stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

cardboard is boring, we brought our matches - look how it burns

When Ryker spoke, it felt like the epitome of death creeping and crawling on your skin, weaving and needling its way to the back of your neck to make you shiver. He wasn't bad looking if you didn't factor in that he was a fucking serial killer on crack. His toxic green eyes glitter with sadistic splendor, as he took pleasure in seeing the wake of destruction he caused. Harley knew how it pleased him to show off just how helpless one could be against a man like him. He was a man who wanted to possess what his enemies had, wanting it all for himself just to make the statement that he was better in every way. What gave him more pleasure was watching you squirm, especially when you didn't have the strength of a thousand men to fight back. He was the kind of asshole who got off at plucking the wings of butterflies. He got off on disgust, anger and weakness. He fed on it, craved it, lived (sorta) for it. She knew what this monster was capable of and never once did she think about herself, in those moments. Her worry was strictly for Isolt and Ace. Ryker could tear her apart, limb from limb if it ensured the safety of the few she loved. She had seen him do it before and it was no pretty picture, but even with that sickening knowledge she still places her body like a boulder of protection, that was in reality more like a soldier ant vs a steel toe work boot.

Isolt was silent, but it wasn't like she could hear her anyways. Harley's mind was a storm, it flooded what was left of her drunken senses. Everything she touched in this world was not safe. In this airless tense moment, Harley instantly regretted reaching out to her, thinking her life could ever be a semblance of normal. With friends and a normal job. Isolt had a life to get to, she had a fiancé who loved her, not that bullshit kind of love either, this was the real deal. She saw it first hand, even if she would forever give Damon shit. Maybe not forever, just long enough to give him a good hazing. She wasn't going to let her get swept up in this cluster fuck shit storm that life conjured up specially just for her when Isolt still had a chance. Harley stood in front of Isolt protectively, like she could do a damn thing to stop it, drunk and mortal. He could wipe them off the chessboard with one fell swoop. But Harley didn't care.

Harley stood, back straight and eyes narrowed always imagining herself bigger and badder than the opponent before her. Especially when it meant protecting Isolt. Just how many times Harley had put herself in the line of fire to keep her friend safe, just like this.

Ryker held Ace by the scruff, knowing very well what that fluffy ball of black fur might as well been a part of her very heart. He tossed him so heartlessly across the floor that he skittered and hit the wall with a sickening thud, that she felt right in her gut. He didn't move after he whelped, that sound that brought panic and rage to her surface. NO ONE FUCKING FUCKS WITH PUPPY ACE, her mind snarled. NO ONE. She could think of a million ways to kill this beast, and a million more to make him hurt for harming him. She was too inebriated and pissed off she might have even said it out loud, she hardly knew. She hardly felt Isolt's hand on her shoulder, her body was thrumming with so much anger and hatred toward her once captor. She was coiled like a viper, and she lunges forward with every ounce of her strength her human body possessed without paying heed to her own safety. But she didn't move, She should have, but she didn't, something held her back. Wait a second. Instead she was wrenched to the side to where ace was. She would have fallen if she didn't come into contact with the wall to her left. "What in the actual fuck." She bit, wildly. She was ready to throw punches, even if it just looked like rabid flailing. Her intoxicated brain trying to actually process what had transpired, but the pieces didn't connect. To her horror Isolt was facing off with Ryker. "NO!" She cried out, anger made her voice shaky and riddled with her overwhelming emotions, ready to push off that wall and put herself in between the two once more. That is when she saw Isolt move with inhuman speed and strength. That movement had Ryker thrust back with an impressive force against the wall, she paused in utter shock as she heard that resounding thud as the wall looked like a spider web from its deep fissures from that hefty blow. There were many thoughts, too many thoughts that were swirling in her mind. What the hell happened to Isolt? And why didn't she tell her? They were best friends to the bitter end and it was quite obvious that her bff was no longer alive and Ryker knew it. He knew it the moment he saw her and Harley had been ignorant all along.

Her violet eyes look to ace, seeing his form still breathing, he was just knocked out from the impact. Hang in there little buddy. She thought, it took every ounce of strength to not go to him. She knew she had to deal with Ryker first.

Isolt looked menacing pinning Ryker there with such force, such strength she had seen before.. but not from her friend. Harley felt like she was going to be sick, but now wasn't the time. The pit in her stomach, her heart feeling like that filigree cracked wall. Her fucking wall... she might as well get used to looking at it, because it was her newest piece of art to look at every night before falling asleep. Oh right, if she had a damn bed! What was once her bed was obliterated to toothpicks, her mattress ripped in two. All of that had to wait. Ryker's chilling voice fills the room, taunting and devious. His laughter is what she hates the most, it makes her skin feel like an icy painful numb sensation, needling in and out of her skin. She could see his fangs and they made her cringe internally, her eyes narrowed into that death stare. She knew how ruthless he could be.

He seemed almost gleeful as he taunted the crimson haired Isolt, in a way that seemed like he knew, everything.

Harley shoved all of that down, all those emotions that flood her. Her violet eyes seemed sad, even though she was so pissed she could have hulk punched a wall and at least in her mind, it would have shattered. With all that white-hot, unchecked fury, she was certain she could break Ryker's nose. At least she could make him hurt. It wouldn't be the first time, even if she had to pay for it. She was human it didn't mean she had to be a damsel in distress, it just meant she needed to get creative. "YEAH, Isolt. I would like to hear that story too." Pungent sarcasm escapes her as she insinuated none to subtly, she now despised the alcoholic buzz that flowed through her at that very moment. Her gaze seems to move from one vampire to the next. Vampire and Isolt were now synonymous, never did she see that dismal plot twist. She didn't know what was worse, Isolt being a vampire or her not saying a word about it.

"Share her, he says." She scoffs, sarcasm her shield. "Look at you being all polite. I didn't even know you knew how to share." She rolled her eyes, woah bad move. It just made her feel hella dizzy, like the world was dancing and she were standing still.

She looked to her crimson-haired companion, wondering if she was still her Isolt. Was she still there, was it all big juicy lie? Did she proverbially become one with the dark side. They needed to have a big chat when all of this was over. The biggest.. Hate to break up this little vampire bonding moment. But she had enough. She picked up the biggest thing she could find which was a silver statue of a rearing horse that her grandma gave her. She threw it with all her might toward Ryker.. or so she thought, there may have been two of them... and she missed, it hit the wall next to him with a loud heavy sound, leaving another dent in her wall. The heavy trinket fell to the floor. Well that was embarrassing, she blamed it on her drunken coordination. "Well that sucks." A heavy sigh escapes her. She straightened, she would deal with one vampire at a time. She needed to trust her gut and her gut said Isolt would have not have turned a bar upside down with her like old times just to drain her dry. Then again the only vampires she had ever known simply wanted to play with her like a cat playing with a mouse until it died. "Isolt, can you mess up this flippy dippy clown with some vampire jujitsu? If not I have silver blade with his name on it." But she would have to get it first. Why is it she was always so painfully unprepared?


. How many times had he forcefully fed on her, how many times had he did whatever the fuck he wanted? Why? Because he was stronger than hell and vampires could do whatever the fuck they wanted to people far less stronger than them. How many times had she attempted to escape, how many times had she been close, but not close enough, dragged like she was nothing more than a bloodied ragdoll.

Harley Westward