Post by Moritz Erichsen on Nov 14, 2009 18:05:30 GMT
Moritz laughed with a bark at the older man, the inn’s proprietor, once he endeavoured to tackle him by pinning his arm against him; the Lieutenant for a second allowed the man to believe he had control over him (it was hardly a technique – he was simply enjoying the feeling of causing relief only to immediately snatch it away from him), before he wheeled around abruptly and out of the blue, his other hand blowing against the proprietor’s mouth, watching as he stumbled backwards. It was more beautiful, in a sense, to commit physical violence through contact instead of utilizing any kinds of weaponry for such ‘interaction’ instead of having all the fun extinguished quickly and with no satisfaction. “I’ll tell you when it’s enough,” he grumbled in an undertone, and then turned sideways to glance at the Irish guy he had previously dealt with. He sneered in disgust, not at all willing to accept that a man would be as much of a wuss as this one proved to be. He had only received a punch in the jaw and reacted as though he had escaped a grenade by chance. He swore at him inside his mind, and then turned around to face the wretched woman.
Once again, she fascinated him.
He smiled. She had managed to fight through the emotional and physical pain of his restraints and despite her health condition (which he was not aware of at the moment) she had pulled herself up and attempted to stand on both her feet. He only stared at her for several seconds, as he had no time to waste. He was more than aware that the proprietor had called the authorities (some women where also whispering about it in scared voices) and thus pulled the knife from the back of his boot and in a few steps covered the short distance that separated him from her, striding across the room and grabbing her around the waist, pulling her close against his body, while pointing the blade against her neck, noticeably feeling the pulse of her neck. The beautiful pulse of her neck. It was as though for a moment time had frozen, during which his large, demanding and rough hand touched fiercely and unbrokenly across the strong ribs of her stomach, a little below the bosom, while the arm curving around her with the knife threatening to cut her throat (just as he had promised) touched her in some very small parts on her hair, side of her cheek and neck. In this way he warned anyone who would make a mistake on forwarding an attack to forget quickly any such attempts, or the price paid would be very high and very human. He looked at the crowd for seconds, and then with a smooth move used his left hand to quickly wheel her around and pull her up, her head hanging towards his back, as though she were a mere sack of potatoes, and then he walked backwards slowly, a nasty grin now visibly spread across those filthy lips. He then pulled the door open, feeling the cold night breeze hitting against his back, turned around, and vanished into the darkness.
Once again, she fascinated him.
He smiled. She had managed to fight through the emotional and physical pain of his restraints and despite her health condition (which he was not aware of at the moment) she had pulled herself up and attempted to stand on both her feet. He only stared at her for several seconds, as he had no time to waste. He was more than aware that the proprietor had called the authorities (some women where also whispering about it in scared voices) and thus pulled the knife from the back of his boot and in a few steps covered the short distance that separated him from her, striding across the room and grabbing her around the waist, pulling her close against his body, while pointing the blade against her neck, noticeably feeling the pulse of her neck. The beautiful pulse of her neck. It was as though for a moment time had frozen, during which his large, demanding and rough hand touched fiercely and unbrokenly across the strong ribs of her stomach, a little below the bosom, while the arm curving around her with the knife threatening to cut her throat (just as he had promised) touched her in some very small parts on her hair, side of her cheek and neck. In this way he warned anyone who would make a mistake on forwarding an attack to forget quickly any such attempts, or the price paid would be very high and very human. He looked at the crowd for seconds, and then with a smooth move used his left hand to quickly wheel her around and pull her up, her head hanging towards his back, as though she were a mere sack of potatoes, and then he walked backwards slowly, a nasty grin now visibly spread across those filthy lips. He then pulled the door open, feeling the cold night breeze hitting against his back, turned around, and vanished into the darkness.
