A veil of darkness blanketed the lively yet dangerous city that
late brisk night. A silver waxing moon hung high in the inky black sky.
The streets still rushing by with either the cars with their flashing
headlights or the roaring people out having a wondrous time. The looming
buildings gazed down at the excitement and the vivacious gloom. The
night was always vibrant despite the darkness, almost as lively as the
day. Most of the folk wouldn't do anything too reckless or too immoral,
but the cops would pick up a poor sod either drunk, daring or just plain
crazy and throw them in the slammer until their sentence had been
absolute.
On that crisp night
there sat a man - a lone wolf - in the cold bars of a jail cell, or what
was most commonly known as Purgatory on the streets. The wolf sat with
his back against the cold stone wall in a bent fashion and his head
dipped down to the bleak floor. He had coal black fur with a head of
short and shaggy ginger hair like the setting sun. He was a tall and
slender man, like a pole. His icy blue-silver eyes looked like frozen
pools of wonder and delight, but they burned with a kind warmth, like a
fire on a winter's night. He had purple bruises and scarlet cuts all
across his body. His cream white buttoned shirt was wrinkled and covered
with crimson blood and blacksod, his noir pants had lanky cuts across
them, his coal black frock coat was scuffed at the shoulders and faint
splotches of blood stained it, his leathery shoes were scuffed and cut,
and his beaten black fedora rested on his head had a card, an ace of
hearts, in the band of the hat and a golden ring was worn on his left
slender ring finger that had a splatter of crimson blood on it. He had
gotten himself into a terrible fight that cold night, he was lucky he
was only beaten a tad and arrested.
The guard,
who was a stout fox, glared at the wolf with suspicious eyes. He hadn't
spoken a word to his prisoner since he got into the dastardly Purgatory,
and in return the wolf didn't breathe a word since he got there. The
air was a stale silent, that was by far the worst part about the jail.
He sat near the stairs to freedom in a small wooden chair with an erect
back and he wore the gleaming key to the wolf's escape like a necklace,
almost taunting the imprisoned wolf.
It
had been mere hours since the wolf was last breathing the air of
freedom, but to him it felt like terrible days, perhaps even weeks. He
tended to exaggerate things in his funny little mind from time to time,
sometimes giving him a hard time distinguishing the truth from fantasy,
but that wasn't the case by he sat behind bars that lonesome night.
"Did
my wife call?" asked the wolf as he raised his head with bloodshot eyes
trying to fix on the fox, finally shattering the maddening silence.
The fox made no eye contact with the wolf whatsoever. "No," he said sternly. "What wife would ever marry a man like you?"
"A fun one," the wolf chuckled as a sly grin drawing across his face. "And she's hella fun."
"And is she going to be fun once you get out of the Purgatory?"
The wolf shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, how is she going to find out if no one told her where I am?"
"Ha, maybe she'll find a better man, who won't get thrown in jail in the middle of the night."
The
wolf looked back down at the rips in his pants and the bleak floor. He
gave a heavy sigh, gravely thinking about the words the fox dared to
utter.
"Can't I at least call her?" he asked.
The fox just shook his head in denial. “No, not even--”
But
the fox was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the door leading
upstairs swinging open, it almost made him jump forth from his chair. A
pair of light feet crept down the old, stone work stairs. A young woman,
a vixen, crept down the stairs and she looked around to find something
locked away from her.
She had light auburn fur
with long brown hair over her shoulder tied with a black velvet band.
Her calm eyes were a blue-teal colour that sparkled like sapphires. She
had an inky black anchor tattoo on her left wrist and a black tattoo of a
beautiful rose. She had a beautiful curvaceous body like a goddess. She
wore a neatly pressed scarlet buttoned shirt with a long midnight black
overcoat overtop of that, she wore slacks, and fine leathery shoes, and
she wore a glimmering golden ring on her left ring finger, just like
the wolf’s.
She looked around to find the fox
guard on the chair, a she had a worried look in her beautiful eyes, but
she seemed uncomfortable when she came down there.
The
wolf popped his head up, looking very content to see the vixen. A great
smile drew across his face and he stood up to his feet. His black,
bushy tail began to slightly sway back and forth in the contentment.
“Um,
hello?” she nervously asked him, trying to make as little eye contact
as possible. “I’m looking for, um, my husband, the chief of police said
he was free to go.” She shyly took out a letter out of the pocket of the
overcoat and she shakily handed it to the guard.
Without
haste the guard swiped the letter from the vixen’s hand and he began to
read it without sparing a second. After he read over the contents a
couple of times over he looked back up at the vixen concerningly.
“One Shadow Fawkes D’Alton?” he asked. “You must be…”
“Vada Rose D’Alton,” she told him.
“Ah,
I see, miss D’Alton,” said he. “You have friends in very high places,
having Mr. Holmes himself bust him from Purgatory, do you?”
“Yeah,” said Vada. “Now can I get my husband out of jail and bring him home?”
The
guard grumbled as he struggled to get up from his seat, but with a
heave of effort he finally sprang from his chair. He sluggishly walked
over towards the cold bars of the cell and he unlocked the doors to the
cell and he pulled the door wide open.
Shadow
walked out of the cold, dark cell. A white smile, with a splash of red,
gleamed on his face as he strided towards his wife. Vada was only up to
the bottom of Shadow’s chin, he could almost rest his wolfish head on
her.
“Hey, Boo,” he said trying to sound calm but a flutter of happiness bounced in his voice.
Vada
began to smile as tears swelled in her eyes in merriment to see her
husband, even in his bloody state. Without wasting a second she embraced
the wolf in a warm hug. She burrowed her face into his chest, nearly
sobbing into his shirt
Shadow clutched Vada close
to him, he was so happy to see his love once more from the insanity of
the cold cell. With a heavy sigh he grabbed her by her shoulders,
looking into her eyes and he gave her a passionate, yet bold, kiss on
her alluring lips. They were cherry-sweet, almost like candy.
Vada
blushed as his cold lips met with her sweet lips. She tasted blood and
sweat on his lips, but she didn’t care, she was just so happy to kiss
his lips and to embraced him in a warm, passionate hug.
After
the two were finished smooching each other they strided off up the
stairs hand-in-hand and they walked through the noisy police station.
Shadow kept his fedora tipped, the collar of his coat turned up and his
head dipped to conceal as much as his face as possible. A few of the
cops and a few criminals gave him glances, either short curious ones or
long judgemental ones. He tried to pay no attention towards them, he
just clasped his love’s hand tightly.
Even Vada
took short glances at her love, but not in judgement. She was worried
about him, she was unsure why he was even in the jail in the first
place. She kept close to him and she was just so relieved he was
alright.
“So, Hunter told you were I was?” asked Shadow.
“Yeah,”
said Vada. “I got a call from him like an hour ago, I was so dazed and
confused. He told me you got in a fight at the bar, did you?”
Shadow
simply nodded, “Yep, well, I was just enjoying a whiskey, talking to
Edward, then this drunk comes and swings at me. I got hit, so I swung at
him, but his friends weren’t too impressed, so they joined in on the
fight, one of them had a knife--”
“A knife!” cried Vada with such worriment. “Did you get stabbed!”
“Nicked,”
he said calmly. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m just really, really tired,
Hun, and really sore.” He gave a hearty chuckle, as if everything was
fine and dandy. “Please don’t worry about me right now, Hun. Can’t we
just go home?”
“Hun,” said Vada. “I’m not letting you go to bed before I at least get a look at it. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Fine,
fine,” sighed Shadow as he moved his hand towards his wife’s waist,
underneath her coat, quickly softly cupping her ample rump. “Do want you
need to do, doctor.”
Vada blushed as she looked
up at her husband with bashful eyes and rosy cheeks; she bit her lower
lip trying to hide a sly smirk. Without a second thought she copied her
husband and she cupped a feel of her husband’s muscular bottom, causing
his eyes to widen and his cheeks redden
The
D’Altons walked together out of the busy, warm station, out into the
cold, harsh streets of the city where it was lit by the golden glow of
the street lamps above, hoisted on the scarred steel poles standing at
attention down the cold streets. They heard in the distance a cat
screeching a meow in the dark of night and the metallic rattling of the
trash can it was in. The two closely walked together down the streets
where the air was brisk and the stench of the virmine and the trash hung
highly to their noses.
They strided back home
with ease, even in the inky black darkness. They hastened their steps
across the concreted streets and within half a dozen brisk minutes they
came to their house on Baker street: an apartment building with white
coloured bricks and dull grey steps ascending up to the rouge door with
three golden numbers rested just above the door - 757.
Shadow
advanced towards the door as he swung the door open, letting his wife
proceed into the building before him. Vada thanked him with an adorable
yet teaseful curtsy bow. Shadow smiled and he followed his wife up the
three flights of the wooden stairs. They went down the stretched hallway
with red carpets and sand beige walls.
The two
marched down the hallway, with Vada leading and Shadow sluggishly
following her. They went down to the second door to their right, which
was a pale green door with claw marks etched down the door. A rusted
number 34 casually laid on the door.
Vada
opened the door to their apartment where she made her way into the
living room of the apartment where it was only lit by the silver
moonlight, she unraveled her shoes and placed them by the door. Shadow
followed her into the apartment where he slipped off his shoes, leaving
them in a mess.
In the darkness the walls were a
calming pale blue and the floor made of an oak wood. There was a
cushiony couch with its back turn towards the window - which was gazing
out into the waxing moon and the prominent darkness, and was boarded by
silver curtains - and two chairs that faced the couch and a short wooden
table between them. The small television was across from the sitting
area and down to the right was the kitchen where the blanc refrigerator
silently hummed away, and down to the left was the hallway leading to
the bathroom to the front, their bedroom to the left and the right was a
spare, blank room, filled with nothing but an empty space.
Vada
turned towards Shadow with tired yet blazing eyes, seeming wide away.
She slipped off her coat and she tossed it towards the couch, but it
landed ungraciously next to the coffee table.
Shadow
gazed at Vada heavy-eyed and dead-faced. He threw his fedora off where
Vada threw her coat and he dropped his coat by his shoes. “Hun, I am so
fucking tired.” He half-mumbled. He slumped over down to the their
bedroom; bumping his boney hip into the wall, but giving little reaction
to what had occurred. Slowly but surely he made his uneased way to the
bed and he flopped down on the heavenly comfort of the mattress.
Vada
gazed over down the trail her lover took to get some shut eye. She
sighed; thinking about the trouble her husband had gotten into that
long, dark night. Her eyes were worried and her mind was racing, but a
surge in her feeling told her to go to bed and go cuddle with her
husband, who was lucky to be there that night, rather than purgatory.
With a tiresome sigh she strided down the dark hallway to their bedroom.
She glanced in to see Shadow fast asleep and occasionally snoring and
still dressed in his bloody clothes. She was just so happy to have him
with her that very night. She slipped out of her clothes - and a tattoo
of a black heart with an S in the middle of it was at her left side -
and she climbed into bed beside her loved one. She gazed at the black
wolf, making sure if he was doing alright.
Shadow
just softly snored - occasionally loudly, (and less occasionally he
mumbled utter nonsense) - but he very much asleep. Slowly he turned
towards his honey and he unconsciously wrapped his arms around her and
he placed his slender hands upon her plush tummy. He silently moaned and
indistinctly smirked.
Vada smiled as she looked
over her shoulder to see her loved happy, even in his unconscious
state. “I love you,” she whispered before she gave his a kiss on his
lips before she rested her head down.
Shadow mumbled not a moment later, though it sluggish it vaguely sounded like “I love you too.”
Vada sighed in happiness and then she drifted off to sleep, so happy to have her love back, with her in his arms.
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