O'Gallagher's Daughter IV - Filthy muck

13. may 2015 at 20:04 | Yaraki |  Dílovky
Bít ty lidi po hlavě, fakt.

Momentálně jsem v největší tísni - to si ani nedovedete představit. Všechno se na mě valí jako dobře mířený "hug" radlicí buldozeru. Už druhou noc nespím, páč nejsem unavená a hruď mi drtí tíhá vší té školy, co nemám šanci dát, ani kdybych chodila po rukou. Bez rukou...
Aááááááá! Jasně, že učení by pomohlo, ale má odvěká averze v kombinaci s uvědoměním, že ač se budu školit sebevíc, bude to k prdu vzhledem k tomu, že testy mám ve špájině, kterou se na plynnou akademickou úroveň za 14 dní prostě nenaučím, tento option spolehlivě zabíjí.

A nedostatek spánku? To je jen hřebíček do pomyslné rakvičky. Bez šlehačky.

Teď jsem navíc zjistila, že mi bába na studijním (Lola či jak se jmenuje) napsala do papírů blbý datum a mě tak nezbývá než se strachovat, aby mi ve čtvrtek, kdy tam jdu jakože prefinálně podškrábla náhradní papír už správně... Kriste to je zlo. Skoro bych přes to všechno zapomněla, že domácí po mě chce cosi s nájmem a já nemám páru co.
Aspoň mám nový šaty... ale tlustá jsem stejně.

Bůh neexistuje a jestli jo, je to pěkně sobeckej bastard, co si vybíjí mindráky na nevinných... mě.

Název: O'Gallagher's daugter

Žánr: víceméně výkec/nadpřirozeno/fanfiction (SPN)
Délka: cca dvě tři stránky
Jazyk: Angličtina
Beta: Akai



That was the first time in her whole life she has had a serious nightmare.
Chloe woke up shaking with her skin covered in cold sweat, unable to catch her breath and frightened to death. The inability to move her own body was killing her. This was the worst what could ever happen to her - being powerless, useless, somehow disabled. Chloe O'Gallagher had one thing left from her old life - one property - and that was her body. Without the ability to control it, she felt just like a dead mind inside some unknown piece of flesh.
The young huntress felt that strange sort of fear, which crawled inside raw bones and tore the flesh apart. The inability to do anything showed her about one important truth - Chloe realized how vulnerable she actually was. Before that, sleeping was just an ordinary part of the day, same as eating or breathing. But now? Something could be hiding under her bed. Or outside the window. And there was nobody to warn her, to take care of this exposed bag of bones and muscles, once it was attacked.
She could die. Sort of an ugly sudden realization.
Chloe O'Gallagher did not want to die. She wasn't sure if she had something like a mission anymore but dying definitely was not an option. Even during her "emo moments" death was something inconceivable. This life was worth living - even in the mud and the filth, as a homeless without a family. There was something about this all, convincing her that she can't simply give up.
Paradoxically, while killing monsters and exorcising demons, her life had been secure and steady. That was her job - done well and with determination - she knew exactly what she was fighting and why. Nothing like doubts or fear, only certainty, invulnerability, strength. Much better than sleeping…

Chloe was a weird lad - life full of monsters and demons, the blood of tenths on her hands - but still carrying a stuffed pet, saving her precious self every night in a prison of salt and devil's traps. Now she knew this was not enough, because nothing, no prayers or anti-magical traps, was worth one loyal pal by your side.
She missed somebody, but was too proud to find friends in the homeless community - and the ordinary population would probably put her in some asylum or worse, school. This was probably the biggest trap of all others - nowhere to go and nobody to share her struggles with. But her pride was just too strong, it forbade her to open, made her run away every time the edge-placed community's yelling changed from "Hey blonde!" to "Hey! Claire!" or "Hey! Lara!". Although she never told them her true name, getting closer to that filth felt simply wrong. After all, she still thought homeless "people" were somehow lower than her and responsible for their own fucked up life. They were useless and broken - the two attributes which she despised the most - and responsible. Which was probably the main reason because Chloe felt responsible more than anything else and they were like a constant reminder.

Can you imagine you put all the effort, concentration and time in killing, or - which is so much better - learning how to kill? It'll wash your brains out, until there is just "chop chop here and stab stab there", because in the world full of death and insecurity, loneliness, fear, self hatred, contempt and reproaches, this would be your only certainty left.You'll end up as a mass murdering freak if you stay on this path for too long. And Chloe was running out of time…

---

The O'Gallagher's girl woke up on 21st May 2011, in a cheap-motel bed, rounded by a triple circle - salt, graveyard soil and charred rice. It was her nineteenth birthday. Not like she realized. Or cared. The days were still the same and she? Just s little more wasted, skinny, tired, hungover.
Her head was heavy and she felt dizzy. Probably because of the machette under her pillow which was pressed to her left temple every night. One would say she'd get used to it, but you know, it's not that easy to convince your chubby flesh there is no deadly and rough weapon under your head.
Young huntress put her head in her palms, nodded and then disappeared in an improvised bathroom for a long long shower. That was the other thing that could put her in a good mood after all. The first one was hunting of course.
This time it was a kitsune who had been fearlessly leaving a trail of bodies behind in small villages in central Spain. Chloe was damn sure.
Kitsune… Fuck those. Fuck everything…

Chloe was tired and not particularly keen to do anything that morning - that little sneaky bitch was clever - but still capable of putting the make up on. You see! Clear difference. The O'Gallagher's daughter grew up after all. Grew up and found out how easier life - traveling, police interrogations and getting information out of locals - is, when you are that "pretty blonde girl".
She packed her bag and left the motel, pillaging minibar without leaving payment before. She felt like it would not be her if she just behaved like an ordinary customer. And she didn't have any money as well. Actually, it was always like mortal fight between a sandwich and place to sleep every day. Leaving without payment won her both of these goals at the same time. And police? Fuck them!
Chloe had one black wig in her bag, always on when signing in in the motel, always wearing gloves, even while sleeping. They had no idea about her true identity.
The cleverest of all the creatures she hunted, that was the O'Gallagher's daughter.

It was seven o'clock in the morning, which was more like night in Spain, so the hitchhiking seemed impossible. There was no other option but follow the trail to La Granja, where she expected to find her newest prey. That Japanese bitch!
After almost an hour of walking, interrupted only by her continual swearing about drivers who hadn't stopped (and if they had, they had looked like a rapist of the year) and about Japan, God, Heavens and Hell and anybody else who seemed responsible for her misery, one car stopped right in front of her so it blocked the way.
Chloe did not expect that so she didn't pay any attention to the car nor the person behind the window.
Something told her this was not an ordinary situation, the driver's behavior was a way too forward and pushy. Chloe instinctively grabbed the 44 gun from behind her belt and stopped right behind the rusty car trunk, so that she would have a place to hide behind, if necessarily needed.

The driver's door opened: "Hey, Chloe!"
She froze immediately. the young huntress haven't heard her own name in at least sixteen months - since she had left Wales, she was everybody else but Chloe O'Gallagher. If this was an ordinary situation, she would've solved it using her lying tongue or any violence needed. But the name…

"My gosh, you look like a filthy, little muck! Long travel thou, Chloe?"


 

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Comments

1 stuprum stuprum | Web | 14. may 2015 at 6:24 | React

Asi budu jeden z mála, který dočetl do konce. :D Zpočátku mě normálně políval strach, asi tím cizím jazykem! :D

Jak vidím sudden, tak hned naskakuje death!

2 babirusa babirusa | Web | 18. may 2015 at 0:10 | React

[1]: take sorry za to zklamání - příště tam nějakou tu sudden death vyvrhnu, že seš to ty :D

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