Dec 28, 2017 16:43:17 GMT -6
712 WORDS
@satireabound
BY MINNIE OF GS
THE MOST PAINFUL GOODBYES ARE,
Loud and dangerous were the two words best to describe the situation Desmond was in one winter morning. The illusions made by the gentle, cold air rustling the trees and the lapping of water on the port side suggested a soothing scene. Adding to the mask of calmness were tiny white flakes if snow the descended from the clouds, dancing in the air. There was mostly silence due to the lack of crowd in the area. Precautions were always taken prior to the storm; this was merely the calm. Crouched behind the crates with his grey wings pressed up against his back and a tight grip on the radio, the scout peeked around the corner. He was hidden in the shadows of a warehouse. As expected, the ginger wore the dark colours of the TRS with the accenting meant to associate him with scouts. Desmond kept his distance, watching a pair of fear eaters lurk around the pier. The radio was brought closer to the ginger's face as he relayed information to his hunter colleagues. They had cleared out all the workers and other citizens from the area in order to make it safe for a battle. The answer came as they stated they were almost finished. Thus, Desmond kept watching, silently slipping through the warehouse window.
Like a shadow, the scout moved with footsteps light and silent on the wooden floor. Sometimes the nephilim would peer out the dirty warehouse windows, checking the status of who he followed. A razor and a troublemaker that seemed keen on travelling together. Fluently, Desmond weaved his way through the warehouse shelves until he reached the other side. A door stood between him and the outside. Being a skillful scout caused The nephilim to hesitate a moment, doors provided the risk of squeaking, especially in a dirty, old warehouse. Thus, Desmond teleported, dematerialized to rematerialized on the other side without a noise being uttered. Once the scout felt the cold chill of winter air, he lowered into a crouched and pressed himself against the building.
Shortly, the terrors passed him without knowing about the man who stalked their moves. For a few more moments, Desmond observed them in peaceful silence until the radio buzzed. It was a quiet, static noise that was just audible to the scout's ears. It was not long before the radio was held up to the nephilim's mouth. He listened as the hunters stated that they were hidden nearby, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting terrors. Which meant the noise of battle would soon ensue and the nephilim would retreat a small ways to avoid getting injured. In a matters of seconds the signal was given and the hunters hastily ran from their places to confront the dastardly duo. The sounds of weapons clashing, shouting and agonizing screams from both sides filled the air. Only for a few moments did the nephilim watch before standing from his crouch and spreading the grey wings to their full wingspan before he began to flap them.
Gradually, the man was lifted from his position from the ground and into the cold air. The nephilims green eyes scanned the battlefield while his hands easily worked to secure the radio to its holder on the belt he wore. For a few moments, Desmond hovered above and watched the intense struggle between good and evil. Once high above the action, the nephilim used his grey wings to carry himself forward and do an aerial circle above the fight. The scout's watchful eyes looked for concerning signs that begged the possibility of requiring back up. Alas, the fight was going smoothly and the hunters were accomplishing their part of the mission with ease. With that, Desmond flew back towards the warehouse and lowered himself onto the flat roof. From his vantage point he could witness a majority of the area around the fight, which meant he could report any other terrors or concerns to the hunters. For now, things were quiet as the nephilim watched the brawl with mild interest. His grey wings nestled against his back while the ginger watched; they awaited for a reason to take flight like giddy children. Meanwhile, the scout scanned the premise for anything unusual, holding a silence while he did so.
Like a shadow, the scout moved with footsteps light and silent on the wooden floor. Sometimes the nephilim would peer out the dirty warehouse windows, checking the status of who he followed. A razor and a troublemaker that seemed keen on travelling together. Fluently, Desmond weaved his way through the warehouse shelves until he reached the other side. A door stood between him and the outside. Being a skillful scout caused The nephilim to hesitate a moment, doors provided the risk of squeaking, especially in a dirty, old warehouse. Thus, Desmond teleported, dematerialized to rematerialized on the other side without a noise being uttered. Once the scout felt the cold chill of winter air, he lowered into a crouched and pressed himself against the building.
Shortly, the terrors passed him without knowing about the man who stalked their moves. For a few more moments, Desmond observed them in peaceful silence until the radio buzzed. It was a quiet, static noise that was just audible to the scout's ears. It was not long before the radio was held up to the nephilim's mouth. He listened as the hunters stated that they were hidden nearby, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting terrors. Which meant the noise of battle would soon ensue and the nephilim would retreat a small ways to avoid getting injured. In a matters of seconds the signal was given and the hunters hastily ran from their places to confront the dastardly duo. The sounds of weapons clashing, shouting and agonizing screams from both sides filled the air. Only for a few moments did the nephilim watch before standing from his crouch and spreading the grey wings to their full wingspan before he began to flap them.
Gradually, the man was lifted from his position from the ground and into the cold air. The nephilims green eyes scanned the battlefield while his hands easily worked to secure the radio to its holder on the belt he wore. For a few moments, Desmond hovered above and watched the intense struggle between good and evil. Once high above the action, the nephilim used his grey wings to carry himself forward and do an aerial circle above the fight. The scout's watchful eyes looked for concerning signs that begged the possibility of requiring back up. Alas, the fight was going smoothly and the hunters were accomplishing their part of the mission with ease. With that, Desmond flew back towards the warehouse and lowered himself onto the flat roof. From his vantage point he could witness a majority of the area around the fight, which meant he could report any other terrors or concerns to the hunters. For now, things were quiet as the nephilim watched the brawl with mild interest. His grey wings nestled against his back while the ginger watched; they awaited for a reason to take flight like giddy children. Meanwhile, the scout scanned the premise for anything unusual, holding a silence while he did so.
- - the ones never said or explained.
