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The Vulture and the Butterfly

M

Mukurogirl

Super-Earth
Joined
Jan 15, 2009
Tonight was the night, yes it had to be tonight. The night she made her escape from this bedroom fortress her loving father confined her to. She had glimpsed the outside world, seen a ghostly grave robber who haunted her dreams. Her father denied it, tried to convince her that it had all been a fevered dream induced by forgetting to take her medicine. She didn't believe it. it had all been too real. The blank faces of the sleeping dead, the pounding of her heart as she raced to escape detection, his haunting voice. Her condition would only allow her to stay away for a few days at the most so she tried to steal away as much medicine as she possibly could. A few days would be more then enough for her father to come to his senses. She was seventeen and dead to the world! Life was waiting for her out there....

Shilo stole out of her room in the middle of the night, a pale white figure with raven black hair racing down the streets. She went to her mother first, visiting Marni's grave for a few hours. "Oh mother.... I know father means well, but I need to live my own life, whatever I have left of it with your disease sapping my strength." Bitterness twisted her voice, fingertips caressing the cold white marble. She pressed her lips to the marble in a quick kiss goodbye before treading out onto the dangerous streets.

She was so young, so naive. Shilo had been sheltered her entire life and didn't know what dangers lurked in the drug infested streets far from her father's mansion. Poor little lamb. It wasn't long before a stranger in black approached her, a scalpel in hand.
 
Nathan Wallace had long ago learned that the outside world was no place for precious little innocents, and as far as he was concerned, his Shilo was made of spun sugar - he wouldn't allow her to be corrupted or damaged by the horrors that waited on her doorstep, and he knew he could never tell her the truth. What she saw on the television and the city she saw from her balcony was all she would ever see, and that was how it had been for seventeen years, and the only exception had been the times he allowed her to visit her mother's tomb, wearing her gas mask.

But recently she had gone outside when he'd been busy with a -

- patient.

Seeing his little girl collapsed on the ground with guns pointed at her - she was so helpless, she wasn't a threat - Nathan had seen red, and he'd had to resist the terrifying urge to murder every one of those men just for standing that close to his daughter. Rotti told them to stand down, and Nathan had shoved them out of the way, lifting Shilo into his arms - she didn't know it was her father, she was slipping out of consciousness, and the Repo mask obscured any features, the visor making even his eyes difficult to recognize. He'd taken her home, brought her around, convinced her it was all a dream - she hadn't been outside, she just forgot to take her medication and hallucinated.

Her curiosity had got the best of her, and as he sat on the back of a patient and absently-mindedly sawed through the man's leg, he found himself worrying about whether she would do it again some day. What if she left the house again when he wasn't there - what if she got further this time, and got lost? What if Rotti didn't call them off this time? What if she ran into some pervert?

Screams of terror brought him back to the present, and the Repo Man irritably brought the thick handle of his knife down onto the back of the man's skull, knocking him out while he dissected the detached leg and fished out the femur, eyeing the barcode on the joint before shoving it into a bag.

Wiping his vinyl gloves off on the front of his coat, he dialed for Shilo.

And meanwhile, not so terribly far away from the Repo Man, another dark figure sat amongst the dead, but with the distinct difference being that this particular man was not the cause of death, he merely cashed in on it. As far as the Graverobber was concerned, there was nothing wrong with what he did - the dead didn't feel it, and they had a marketable product that benefitted the living. He was just the go-between, getting the product from point A, to point B, it was just that point B tended to be the veins of some back alley junkie, or the occasional Wall Street junkie like Amber Sweet - who, he noticed, was becoming more back alley every week.

He put his chin in his hand, pursing his dark lips at the decomposed body in front of him,

"She's not very nice, you know," Graverobber said in a conversational tone as he jammed the needle into the nasal cavity, and he continued to talk to the dead man, but predictably got no response, "She keeps cleaning me out, she's got more replacement parts than original ones these days. Some of them are very nice, mind you."

He removed the vial from the gun, tucking the Zydrate into his pocket; he'd been in this graveyard many times before, it was one of his favourites because of the mass graves - it was a massive and untapped source for his product, and it would take him years to get to all the bodies. He'd had to stay away from it for a little while, since the last time he'd come by, he'd nearly been swept away by the security, and that girl - sweet little thing - she'd been yanked away. He'd felt a little bad about it, so he'd stuck around to see if they actually killed her and while it was a relief that they didn't riddle her with bullets, the most bizarre thing happened when the Repo Man had appeared. Instead of tearing her apart and removing bits like Repo Men were hired to do, he had - picked her up.

Cradled her, even.

Normally he wouldn't concern himself with the lives of others, but the entire thing had left Graverobber confused and just a little weirded out; had the girl had some connection to Rotti? Was that why she had been let go, was she being brought back to GeneCo, was she even still alive? She had been too clean, too well-spoken and far too naive to be a street rat or a vulture like him - in fact, when he'd first seen her, she'd been chasing an insect. It had made him feel like he was in some twisted version of Neverland, standing in the cemetary, digging through bodies while a sweet, wide-eyed teenager chased fireflies, not knowing what else she would find there.

And oh, the things she could have found. The things that lurked in cemetaries these days went beyond the horror of just a few dead people - junkies and dealers hung around the area, but so did the Harvesters, the twisted people who had realized there was money in fresh organs, and who had begun to lurk in the cemetaries to get their hands on the junkies who were too basted on the glow to fight back. The Harvesters would mercilessly hack them apart, take their organs, and sell them to the highest bidder - it was just another black market that had risen in an attempt to escape GeneCo's reign. Usually Graverobber would find the remains of the Harvesters' victims - which was never much - and he would sift through for any useable bits for Zydrate.

But that particular night as he weaved his way through the headstones, following the sound of a ringing phone, Graverobber found himself in an awkward situation - he came up unexpectedly behind a Harvester who was clearly preparing to get a little work done, and for a moment, Graverobber considered quietly backpedalling to save his own skin.

He considered it up until the point he peered around the Harvester's shoulder, and realized that the potential victim was the same girl from before. Graverobber's wide, mascara-rimmed eyes shifted from Shilo to the Harvester and back again, and he silently removed his Zydrate gun from his pocket and jammed it into the Harvester's throat, injecting a vial of pure air directly into the guy's jugular. Immediately, the man collapsed into spasms, and Graverobber immediately grabbed Shilo's arm, running.
 
Shilo glanced anxiously at the watch which began to dial and vibrate along her wrist. Her father. Was he home yet? Did she have a prayer of deluding him into thinking she was safe and sound in her bedroom prison? Shilo glanced up, noting that she was still at the very edge of the the graveyard and about to enter the streets. It was quiet enough here. Yet, at the same moment a small, soft fingertip lowered to pick up her father's call; a dirt and blood covered hand wrapped around her pretty white throat and squeezed. Her big, doe-like eyes widened in shock and fear. Fear for her life. The more she struggled, the more her blood pressure went up, setting off the alarm on her arm. "Warning, blood pressure rising." If her blood pressure were dropping it would have been a more dangerous matter. However, the harvester wasn't quite interested in the health of his victim. It was rare to see such a clean person and from the looks of her, she hadn't had a single surgery yet. Every little organ was pure and healthy as the day she was born. In a world where plastic surgery was performed in minors from early toddler years until death, it was rare to see a virgin body or rather, uncut. He could harvest her entire body and make a bundle.

Shilo's fierce struggles began to lessen, her pale face turning blue until she finally fell unconscious. Her frail body fell to the ground, narrowly missing cracking her skull open on a nearby marble tombstone. She problably looked as still as death, lieing there in a mass of raven black hair while the harvester took out his bag full of instruments and began to prepare for his job. He tore open the blouse she wore, revealing alabaster white skin and small breasts encased in a black bra. She was by no means a voluptuous girl Even her body still seemed child-like. Her wristwatch continued to ring. No answer for her father, but ofcourse she could have been in bed for all Nathan knew.

Her eyes fluttered open just in time to see the needle of a zydrate gun puncture the harvester's neck just a scalpel hovered over her bare stomach. She traced the arm that held the gun and found the strange character from her so-called dream of the outside world. "Graverobber!" His name wasn't said in fear or disgust, nor was it crooned or moaned. She seemed....shocked to see him. The harvester slumped forward and suddenly she felt cold fingers grip her arm, jerking her to her feet and away they went. She could barely match his fast stride, seeming unused to such vigorous exercise. "Where are we going?" Her blouse was still open, having been slit right down the center by the harvester who hadlittle care for his victim's clothes. She seemed dazed and confused. "Who was that?" She questioned him when they had finally reached the destination he had in mind.
 
Nathan waited.

One ring.

Two.

His mouth went dry.

Three.

Before it even got to the fourth ring, he was running as hard as he could, blazing down the side streets and back alleys that he had memorized years ago, the hard soles of his buckled boots hitting the puddles and splashing dirt and grime up onto the vinyl and leather that covered him, mixing with the blood and sweat of the evening. Shilo wasn't answering.

Warning: Blood Pressure Alert

She might have passed out - what was happening to her, to make her fall unconscious? Was she out of the house, had she hit her head? Was she dying in her room right now, as he ran for her? What if someone had broken into the house - what if they were hurting her.

His mask was ripped off his face and a foot-long, serrated knife was in hand when he entered the house, and he was running up the stairs,

"Shilo?" he shouted; her bedroom door was open, he knew he'd locked it behind him on his way out that evening - and she wasn't in her room. She wasn't in bed. He brought his hands to his head, not noticing that he was smearing blood into his hair, and he turned back, standing on the staircase, and this time his voice hit a pitch of panic as he called for his daughter,

"Shilo!"

And in the cemetary, the Graverobber was yanking Shilo along; he had learned long ago that running was the best solution - getting as far away from the problem as possible was always the ideal option, and this was no exception. He didn't stop until they were on the outskirts of the massive graveyard, stopping beneath an old, gnarled willow tree that had long ago grown around a dimming street light, and it just barely shed enough light for the two of them to see eachother.

He turned then, and was met with the sight of Shilo, small and pale, surrounded by her mane of dark hair with her shirt split down the middle, her small breasts outlined by the opened blouse and the grasp of black lace; it was a body that was untouched by surgery, blessedly real, sheer genetic inheritance. Graverobber gaped for a moment, and then forced his eyes away from the expanse of pale skin, and met her eyes, his eyebrows up high,

"You just have an innate ability to find trouble, don't you?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble in his chest.
 
Shilo was breathing heavily as she struggled just to catch her breath from that long run. Her deep breaths forced her small breasts to rise and fall sharply with her chest. Even though she looked so frail and delicate, she was stronger then her father gave her credit for. She didn't fall into shock, though her skin began to feel cold. She felt a chill in the air and shivered, seeming to have forgotten the state of her blouse. Her eyes followed the Graverobber's, gasping sharply and swiftly covered her chest with crossed arms, a rosey color adorning such pale cheeks. Graverobber problably wasn't used to seeing women blush, certainly the scalpel sluts were too numb and jaded to care who saw their bodies. She stood there, covering her bosom with her hands, shivering in the cold night air. "This...isn't turning out how I thought it would be." She admitted in a low voice, turning her head away. She didn't know who that man was who had come after her, only that he was bad. Oh there were so many things she didn't know, didn't understand!

"You...you saved me." Shilo finally managed to tilt her head up to look at him. He seemed taller then she remembered. Tall and pale, dressed in strange coat with his laced up boots andlong hair with multicolored ends. Another beep from her watch seemed to draw her attention away. Her father. He was calling again and problably was frantic by now. She didn't want to think about him now. No. She was free, even if there was danger lurking around every corner, she was free. "I thought you were a dream." She added, turning her attention back to Graverobber. The teenager began to shift from side to side, glancing anxiously around. "Oh no. I left my backpack behind. It had extra clothes in it..." She mourned, her cheeks still retaining their rosey red blush. She needed a new shirt....or atleast something to cover her nakedness. "I suppose we're even now, seeing as you're the one who got me in trouble before."
 
Nathan was in the basement, ripping off the Repo Man uniform, hurling the organs into the refrigerator; with his face still streaked with blood, he ran through the house. He ducked his head as he passed by the chamber Marni's body was in - he couldn't bring himself to look at her now, not when his baby was missing, he couldn't face her - and down through the corridor towards Marni's memorial, where he knew Shilo had gone many times before.

"Shilo!" he called again, stopping when he entered the memorial, only to find it was devoid of life; but the door to the tomb was open, a crack that was barely perceptable to most, but Nathan was outside in moments, looking wildly around the dark graveyard. There was no sight of her, and the graveyard went on forever, a vast and spiralling land of the dead, and Nathan felt his heart climb up into his throat, throbbing there in a way he couldn't swallow down, though he held down the panic that threatened to well up with it.

The worried father just wanted to find her, just wanted her back in his arms, safe in the house, away from the horrors of the world,

Oh god. Just let her be alright.

He didn't see them, but he felt someone slip up beside him, and Nathan didn't even turn to look, his hand reflexively shot up and he was gripping a throat, squeezing - and when he did look, it was some Zydrate junkie, tweaking out and quaking with paroxysms of terror,

"Where is she?" he snarled, gripping so hard that his nails cut into the man's skin, but there was clearly no information to be gleaned, the guy was too stoned to be useful, and Nathan hurled him to the ground, stepping over him and continuing through.

Who took my Shilo?

The Graverobber was glancing around them, his eyes ever-watchful even as his body language was relaxed, laid back. He offered Shilo one of his blazing smiles when she spoke,

"A dream," he repeated, leaning his arm up against the tree in a strangely suave-looking gesture, "I've been called a lot of things, but - a dream is a new one."

The smile faded away and transformed into a sort of gritting of teeth, a 'whoops' expression when she mentioned their previous run-in,

"Well," he said, chewing on his fingernail, searching for the words, and then he lifted his hand in a sort of shrug, "Sorry."

She was breathing heavy, and again, he found his eyes drawn downwards until he forced himself to look back up, and then he began tugging off his jacket, swinging it around and onto her shoulders,

"Here," he said, "It's cold out. I'll - walk you back."
 
Shilo took the coat that he offered her, yet when she pulled it on, she looked even smaller as his coat completely dwarfed her. It smelled like death for a moment or two until she got used to the scent and pulled it closer around herself with a small sigh. She didn't care. It was warm. "Thank you." Shilo said with a warm smile on her face. She caught him looking at her again, before he had passed his coat to her and somehow it made her insides tingle. Her stomach felt as if hundreds of butterflies were fluttering around inside. It was understandable. Graverobber was the first man from the outside that she had met and even though she barely knew him, she already seemed to trust him blindly. Maytbe....just maybe, the seventeen year old had her first crush. He seemed so....so different in comparision to the only other man she knew, her father. Oh what was wrong with her? Her skin was suddenly hot as he draped an arm around her shoulders.

Her blood chilled when he mentioned taking her back. She pulled away from him and turnedup her chin, a defiant gleam in those otherwise gentle teenage eyes. "I'm not going back home. Atleast not yet. I ran away....." Her voice trembled slightly as she continued. "I can handle a few days on the streets." She tried to look tough. Sweet little naive thing that she was, it was an utter failure. "Please don't take me back. Anywhere but there. I had money for a hotel in my backpack,but now it's problably gone." Shilo was relieved that she still had her medicine on her. Her little eyelashes fluttered in a classic 'daddy's little girl' manuever that usually worked on her father. "Can I stay with you? I'll keep out of your way. I wouldn't bother you, it's just you seem to knew streetlife better then me."
 
Graverobber seemed to relax even more when Shilo pulled the jacket around herself, covering her pale chest from his view, and he turned, putting his arm around her, figuring that he would be able to do so now without feeling the urge to slap himself for his own thoughts. He began to lead her, up until the point he felt her wrench herself away, and he turned then, his eyebrows raised, holding his hands up in the air to signify passiveness, as though he thought his touch was being repelled.

But no, that wasn't it.

"Oh, a little rebel," Graverobber cooed, and wiggled a finger under her upraised chin, like he was scratching a kitty, "How cute."

She was batting her eyes at him; it wasn't a gesture that the Graverobber was used to, the kind of girls he knew were usually a little less subtle. Generally if they wanted his attention, they would grab him in sensitive areas or, on rare occasions, throw things at his head.

"I don't think that's such a good idea." Graverobber said, clicking his tongue, "I'm really not a very good tour guide, why don't you just get the internet and google the city or something, there's not a lot to see."

Well, there was a lot to see, but the idea of showing her any of it made him feel a little guilty, like he was introducing a fawn to the wonders of magic mushrooms.

"Trust me, kid, you don't want to stay with me." Graverobber added, "You should really go home."

And, not so far from them now, Nathan was on his haunches in the graveyard, clutching Shilo's backpack in one hand; he'd found it on the ground, next to the body of some knife-toting psychopath - she must have been attacked. Was he alone, and she ran away, or did he have someone else with him, someone who -

- took her?

Nathan let out an almost animalistic noise, a strangled scream of pure pain.

"What the fuck was that?" Graverobber asked, his eyebrows arching high, and he stared off in the direction of the Graveyard; he took hold of Shilo's upper arm, steering her in the opposite direction of the sound, "Crazy people out here."
 
Shilo shot him an annoyed glare, which was about as fierce as a kitten as his hand stroked under her raised chin. He was making fun of her. He didn't think she had what it took. Even Graverobber shared her father's opinion that she should be secluded. "I'm not going back!" She vowed, stomping her foot like a spoiled child and placing her hands on her hips. "You're not taking me seriously. No one does." She despaired, showing typical teenage angst. Out of her entire generation, Shilo was problably one of the few who actually had reason to rebel and be so upset. "You don't know my dad. He keeps me locked in my room. He locks my bedroom, locks the house so I can't go out. All because of my stupid blood disease!" She turned away from him, barely managing to control her breathing so her blood pressure didn't waver. "I've only ever seen the city from my window and the graveyard is as far as my father will ever let me go. I don't have any friends. I don't even have a boyfriend. I'm seventeen!"

She whirled suddenly to face him, her eyes shiney with unshed tears. "I'm seventeen and already dead to the world. So please....just let me stay with you for a few days." Her little hand sought his, her fingers so small and soft as they tugged on his wrist just once. "Let me live, just a little. I've got enough medicine to last for three days and then I promise I'll go straight home." She was desperate and it showed, plain on her face. If he didn't stick by her, she'd go out on her own and end up killed most likely. She had no street sense at all. Her head jerked towards that god-awful wail which carried through the graveyard. For a second, she thought she had heard her father. Oh....shit! "I think that was my father. Oh no...."

Shilo suddenly became paler and much more frantic. Strange how she could be so calm after nearly being killed and yet the mere thought of her father close by nearly sent her straight into shock. Such was a father's influence. "If he finds me....no forget that, if he finds you with me...." She trailed off, but the frightened look on her face would be plenty enough to fill in the gaps. "We have to hide from him!" Now it was her turn to grip his hand, tugging insistently as she took off, never knowing where she was going, just trying to escape.
 
There was something distinctly unfair about the entire thing, the Graverobber reflected as he found himself staring into Shilo's wide doe eyes, watching her use those eyelashes to her best advantage, feeling her little hand around his wrist, tugging, insistent, pleading with him. She was seventeen and had spent her entire life locked away in her room, affected by some disease that had her collapsing and forced to take medication all the time; not only was she young and naive, she was ill.

And judging by the way she was talking, she wasn't planning on going back to her home by anything but her own choice.

It also sounded like her father was very possibly insane - but teenagers tended to exaggerate, especially about their parents.

Right?

"Hide from him?" Graverobber repeated incredulously, following half-heartedly as she tugged on his arm, but only for a moment before he stopped walking, using his size to his advantage, grabbing Shilo's wrist and swinging her back around, using the momentum she had to swing her back towards him, nearly pulling her right into him.

"This isn't hide and seek." he said.

"Shilo!"

The voice wasn't too far away now; it was close enough that he could even make out a silhouette in the darkness,

"Shit," Graverobber said, knowing he had to make his choice quickly now, and he backed Shilo up, away from the light, towards an enormous tomb, and he actually physically lifted her, pinning her body between his and the hard, flat surface of the tomb, one leg settling between hers, making look to anyone who passed by that he was with a girl of the same height, rather than a petite thing like Shilo.

"Your disease had better not be contagious." he said drily, and then cocked his head to the side, ravishing her mouth with his own.
 
Shilo was on the verge of having a panic attack as she heard her name being called. Her father would take her home and change the locks to the house and her bedroom. She'd be a prisoner again and she wasn't quite ready to give up her freedom just yet. Worse, if he found her with Graverobber, well....she didn't know what he would do. She was sure he would jump to some conclusion that she had been kidnapped and it didn't help the matter that her blouse had been slit down the middle. "Hurry!" She whispered fiercely, seeming startled when he whirled her around. She knewly fell against his chest, feeling a wave of dizziness overcome her for a moment or two from the momentum he had used to pull her back towards him. No! What was wrong with him? They had to run! She could see the outline of her father approaching them and immediately despaired. It was all over....

She heard Graverobber curse and before she could catch her next breath she suddenly found herself up against the cold stone wall of a rather large tomb. She made a small noise of surprise as his cold hands lifted her so easily, holding her in place with a knee between her legs. Her eyelashes fluttered for a second or two as she realized his face was very close. His body was against hers, so close he could problably feel her heart beating as fast as a humming bird's wings. What...what was he trying to do? His knee between her legs happened to be pushing against a very sensitive spot Before she could ask, Gravrobber stole her first kiss! Her eyes shot open wide and a small hand raised, almost as if to push him away. It never happened. Her hand hovered in mid-air for a few seconds before settling in his hair, gripping soft strands. Her lips were still and utterly petal soft against his for the first few moments, unsure what to do.

This was not the gentle kiss Romeo gave to his Juliet. It was not how she would have imagined her own first kiss at all either. It was fast, fierce and made those butterflies in her stomach drop lower to flutter between her legs. He kissed her hard enough to bruise and the poor little lamb didn't know what to do. She tensed as she heard footsteps, her breasts heaving against his chest, so close to hyperventilating. The rapid rise and fall of her chest actualy helped make this more believable, as it looked as if she were panting like a bitch in heat. Her little lips were still against his until that moment. Something sprung into her, some strange entity that forced her to behave wantonly. Daddy's little girl vanished. She threw a leg around his waist and suddenly began to kiss back, though it was nowhere near as experience as Graverobber.
 
Graverobber could see him from the corner of his eye; the man was silver-haired and tall with broad-shoulders, but he was worn thin by life in the city, and everything about him indicated a normally proper man, but now there was a wild, dishevelled look to him, even though he was wearing a carefully pressed suit and -

- was that blood on his face?

Graverobber threw himself wholeheartedly into their act, and at first he felt Shilo's shock, felt her staying completely still against him, and for a moment he thought she would slap him, but then - no, her little pulse was fluttering wildly against his chest, and he could feel her breasts heaving, though that may have been panic. Her lips were soft and pliable, and she seemed to be clueless as to what she should be doing, until, suddenly -

- a response. A very enthusiastic one, in fact. He felt her hands go into his hair, felt her mouth begin to move clumsily against his, her thin frame moving close, he even felt one of her legs slip up around his waist, curling around him in a way that actually surprised him. Graverobber nearly forgot himself then, one of his hands slipping to Shilo's backside, squeezing, and his thigh pressed a little closer between her legs, shifting just a little.

And then he was gone, Nathan had passed by them, a frantic father searching for his little girl, unaware that he had gone right by her.

Graverobber pulled back then, setting Shilo onto her feet and grasping her arm, once again beginning to steer her away in the off-chance her father doubled back.

"This is a bad idea," he said in a low voice as he ushered her along, doing his best to ignore the problem that was developing under his suddenly incredibly tight pants, "I'm just stating it for the record."
 
Shilo had no idea what she was doing, except that she must be doing it right because she felt a hand drop to her backside,squeezing and drawing her in closer. She could feel every inch of him, from his chest to his waist, pressed against her. She made a soft sound, something between a soft sigh and a moan as his thigh shifted between her legs, pressing against her slickening heat there. Her hands gripped his broad shoulders, sliding around to curl a hand around the back of his neck, her little fingers urging his mouth harder against her own. She forgot about her father, lost in those firm lips which set her pulse racing. Her reactions were instinctual and her skin seemed overly sensitive, not used to being touched at all. Her other leg curled around his waist, locking around his back. From anyone's point of view they looked like typical street trash about to fuck in the graveyard, a common thing to do these days.

She made another soft sound as he pulled away so quickly, startling her. She looked dazed, her soft pink lips swollen from the intensity of his kiss which seemed to give her a sultry image. A hand pressed against her tingling lips, staring at him as if he had sprouted a second head. His hand grabbed her arm and they were suddenly on the run again. A small fire raged in her veins, her body ached and tingled in strange places. "I'm sorry to be so much trouble...." She said when her wits finally returned, glancing anxiously behind them. No sign of her father. "....and just so you know, my blood disease is genetically passed. You can't get it." She seemed a bit offended for a second, but she supposed with all the diseases running rampant on the streets, he was just being cautious. "Where are we going?"
 
Graverobber continued to usher Shilo along, moving her through parts of the graveyard, weaving through more tombstones before finally directing her down a gaping opening in a huge cement brick wall - it looked almost as though someone had come through with a sledgehammer to create a doorway.

And when they stepped through, it was like stepping into a different world entirely, as dark and dank as it still was, the smell of death was suddenly gone, replaced with the only slightly more pleasant smell of life - they had stepped into a twisting back alley, and it was decorated with lights that signified the exits of buildings, and dotted with the brights and darks of various hookers.

"They're pretty grabby," Graverobber said, leaning in to speak into Shilo's ear, "But don't be afraid if they try to touch you, they're just not used to seeing pretty things around here, and you look about as untouched as they come. Just make eye contact, don't let them stare you down and you'll be fine."

He did, however, keep close to Shilo, one arm around her shoulders in a near protective manner; as they walked through, a woman clad in only red leather approached, and her dark eyes scanned Shilo for a moment before moving up to the Graverobber,

"I need a hit of the glow, Graverobber," she said, and her voice was raw and scratchy, her eyes were sleepy and bloodshot, but they were roving over Graverobber like he was a tall, cool drink of water in a vast desert, "I don't have the money though, baby, can I pay you another way?"

Her eyes fell just below his waist, and discovered the problem he'd developed just moments ago, and she smirked,

"It's not you." he assured her with a smile of his own, and the hooker's smirk vanished; Graverobber continued on with Shilo, calling back, "Get back to me when you've got the coin. I've got customers who'll pay."
 
Shilo's eyes widened as they left the graveyard. She'd never been beyond the cemetary, not once in her life so it was understandable how she reacted to the dark streets and glittering business signs as if she were in a circus. It was all so new to her that she didn't seem to see anything except beauty all around her. That was Shilo, she'd find a way to make a dumpster seem like a castle if given the chance. Being locked in her room all her life had led to her developing a large imagination. Then she saw them. Women dressed in tight leather bondage and fetish outfits. None of them looked very healthy, but they showed plenty of skin. Shilo had never felt so self-conscious of being fully dressed before. She pulled his coat closer around herself as he whispered in her ear, bushing when he called her pretty.

She could feel their eyes on her and she wondered what they thought of her, a small half dressed girl wearing Graverobber's coat to keep warm when they barely had any clothes on at all in the chilly night air. "Hi..." She said in a meek tone of voice, not sure she liked the looks they were throwing Graverobber. Her body tensed as the hooker in red approached, instinctively leaning in closer to Graverobber. The hooker didn't seem to notice her at all, too busy trying to bargain with the zydrate dealer. She gasped as the hooker offered herself as payment, shocked. She looked confused for a moment as the whore smirked, wondering what she saw that made her so smug. It didn't matter. Graverobber turned her down.

"Graverobber." A sultry voice crooned as a raven haired scalpel slut approached. Except this scalpel slut was the infamous Amber Sweet, dressed to the nines in tight fitting black bondage gear. "I need the Z." She purred, shoving Shilo out of the way so that she could press her curves against him without shame or care. Her hips ground agianst the hard bulge in his pants, mouth moving near his neck as she moaned provocatively. Her body moved like sin against his, holding up a handful of credits. Nevermind how she got the money. She wanted Zydrate. "Give it to me baby..."
 
Graverobber's eyes had been on Shilo, inspecting her face for her reactions - she was wide eyed, stunned by the world around her - and then he heard a voice, one that he easily recognized because of how frequently he heard it these days. He lifted his head to look at her, his expression casual, but he didn't expect her to be standing so close so quickly, and his eyebrows snapped upwards as Amber invaded his personal space in every possible way, advancing on him.

He didn't even have the time to back away, because Amber was on him, slowly grinding her body against his, her hips pressing against him and what was currently a painful arousal; instinctively, his eyes fell closed, and a small, low noise escaped him, but he forced his eyes open again when he felt her breath on him.

He put his hands on her hips, and Amber smiled her doped up smile, but he shoved her aside, stepping past her and behind her, and he spoke into her ear, and held the Zydrate out in front of her,

"You're the last person in the world I want to bear my throat to," he said, "Let's just say I don't trust your lineage."

He took the credits from her one hand, and pushed the Zydrate into her other, and he had to resist closing his eyes again when she backed her rear into his front,

"I don't have to be facing you," she purred, and Graverobber backed away, leaving her standing there, looking over her shoulder at him, and the look of dopey ease was gone from her face, replaced with a slowly simmering anger. Graverobber put a hand out for Shilo, and gave a mocking half-bow to Amber.

"I'm busy." he replied.
 
Shilo gave a startled gasp as she was pushed aside, taking a few uneasy steps backwards while Amber shamelessly threw herself at Graverobber. Wasn't that Amber Sweet? She'd seen her on the news lately. "But aren't you....." A hand clapped over her mouth, pulling her backwards towards the prostitute's who quickly circled her like hungry predators. She was so confused. Amber was supposed to be the spokesperson for the new Zydrate abuse center and here she was,buying street stuff. She was so naive to believe the faces she saw on the television were real. It didn't matter, she had other problems now as the prositutes circled her, reaching out to touch her baby soft cheeks and other parts of her body.

"Don't say nothin' around Amber. She's got a mean temper." The prostitute who had saved her from Miss Sweet's wrath was dressed in a dark gothic miniskirt and tight corset.

"Aren't you a sweet little thing. Can't be much older then my lil' girl." Another prostitute pinched her cheeks, a woman who looked young enough to be Shilo's sister thanks to plastic surgery.

"I'm seventeen." Shilo offered, keeping an eye on Graverobber from time to time as he handed over a glowing vial of Zydrate.

The prostitutes all laughed together.

"Seventeen? I don't believe it. Where's your tits kid?"

Shilo jumped as she felt hands on her chest, parting the folds of the coat that Graverobber had so kindly given her. She was protesting the entire time.

"I found them! Ha, if you can call these mosquito bites tits..." The girls were making fun of her, but they weren't being nearly as cruel as they could have been. Still, Shilo curled her arms over her bared chest, causing another round of laughter.

"Don't worry hun. You can get surgery to fix those and it doesn't even hurt, not if you're on Zydrate." One of the girls crooned.

"But....I don't want surgery."

Another round of laughter, making the poor girl's cheeks burn.

"You don't want surgery? What's wrong with you. Don't you want men to notice you? Here. I think I can help. What'd you do, run into a harvester?"' One of the prostitute's fiddled with the blouse she wore, sticking a pin through the middle to keep the edges tied together around the center of her chest. Her blouse now formed an X shape. Some of her cleavage was visible, but the blouse came together just shy of revealing her whole breasts and broke apart again to leave her entire flat, pale stomach visible. She still felt incredibly exposed though...

Shilo was polite enough to thank them, just as Amber's smoldering gaze fell upon the girl. MissSweet marched over to Shilo and the whores swiftly rushed out of her way. The girl yelped as Amber gripped her chin, forcing her to look up. Amber examined the brat for a few moments before giving a disgusted snort and pushing her towards Graverobber. "I didn't know you had a thing for kids Graverobber, or should I call you Cradlerobber?" A round of snickers broke out from the junkies. "You better watch yourself, tramp." Amber hissed. She was pissed. No one turned her away, no one.

Shilo hurried to Graverobber's side and hid behind him until Amber was out of sight. "What was that about?"
 
From the corner of his eye, Graverobber could see the prositutes making their rounds on Shilo, but he knew they wouldn't hurt her - and as far as he was concerned, if Shilo wanted to experience life on the streets, this was a fairly accurate presentation of it. After all, her rose-tinted lenses had to be broken at some point - just part of him wished it didn't have to happen this way, he felt a little like he was responsible for destroying what little innocence was left around the godforsaken city.

And part of him could even understand why a father would keep his kid locked up around there - but until she was seventeen?

And what was this disease she had - there were a lot of things ghosting around the city; cancers and viruses, organ failures and respiratory diseases, but aside from being skinny, she looked healthy.

He found his eyes dropping to her flat stomach.

She looked very healthy.

He shook himself out of it, because Amber Sweet was approaching Shilo now, her nastiness shining through the way it always did whenever she couldn't have her way; Sweet was a spoiled brat, she'd been given everything by her father, anything she asked for, she recieved, so she'd become used to it, and she had become encapsulated by a sense of entitlement. That night, she wanted him, and because she couldn't have him, she would take it out on someone else - after all, she still needed him for the Zydrate.

He pulled a face of mock-insult as Amber shoved Shilo towards him,

"I'm hurt, Amber," he said, stepping himself in front of Shilo as though to hide her from Amber's glare, and he stepped up to her, letting his hand ghost over Amber's face, and he watched her expression of anger flicker to one of self-satisfaction, as though she thought she had won something tonight, that maybe he was changing his mind,

"But the truth is," he said, running a thumb over her bottom lip, and he felt her smile against his fingers before he suddenly pulled away from her, "I'm just not in the market for an aging scalpel slut."

His dark lips pulled into a smile and he held his hands up in the air as a sort of shrug, and Amber's expression twisted into an ugly one of anger as he hit a sensitive spot with his jab. He expected it when she moved to slap him, so he simply took a step backwards and watched her strike air, staggering on her three inch heels before straightening up and whirling around to leave, her bodyguards trailing along with her.

He turned back to Shilo then,

"Just business," he said casually.
 
Shilo kept out of Amber's sight, using Graverobber's body as a bit of a shield. She might be naive, but she obviously had enough sense to know when to keep her head down and hide. Her head peeked out from behind the zydrate dealer as he reached out to touch Amber's face, to pacify her. Then suddenly he was gone, behind Miss Sweet and she was an open target. Laughter sounded from the whores who were watching this theatrical performance of Graverobber. It was amusing how every single prostitute went silent as Amber's enraged face turned in their direction. Shilo had taken shelter against a nearby wall, looking small and frail as Amber and her bodyguards passed. She didn't breath again until the other woman was gone. Some of the prostitutes and druggies applauded Graverobber for putting that haughty little princess in her place.

Finally Shilo approached him again, sticking much closer to his side. Obviously Graverobber knew a lot more then her. Her head turned as she heard catcalls and more laughter behind her. "Don't you go corruptin' that lil' thing too much Graverobber! But if you do, bring her back. I've got a customer who likes'em young and sweet." One of the prositute's called out, causing Shilo to shiver and grip his hand. And that was one of the less vulgar comments. They all appeared to be singing 'Cradlerobber' as Shilo and Graverobber drifted out of sight. Shilo had created quite a bit of gossip. They all wondered where a man like him had found an untouched little thing like her and just what he planned to do with her. It didn't take much imagination to pinpoint who had made his pants tent.

"I thought Amber Sweet was in charge of the Zydrate support center....." Shilo said softly, once they were out of that alley there wasn't much else to see. The occassional grunt and groan of a prostitute being fucked against a dark alley wall by a paying customer, but for the most part it was peaceful. Her little hand still gripped his, though it had loosened with time. She barely seemed to notice she had ahold of his hand at all. She wondered what all the fuss was about. Zydrate? That glowing little vial of fluid? "Why do they all need zydrate so much? They could just stop having surgeries."
 
It was mildly amusing to Graverobber, how running into Amber Sweet had nearly been enough to put a damper on a fairly impressive hard-on, he was almost grateful for her presence, because now he was actually able to walk without feeling bow-legged.

It was easy for him to ignore the coos and giggles of the prostitutes around him; none of them really meant anything by it, the nattering and backtalk was just something they did, in the end they'd all come right back to him and play nice anyways - he had something they wanted, and they all knew it. The balance of power was uneven, and Graverobber didn't take advantage of it, but he was very aware of it - yes, he had control over these women, and if he had the taste for it, he could have asked them to do anything and they would, willingly and eagerly. Some of them would do it even if it wasn't for the drug.

But Graverobber wasn't enough of a lech to ask for favours; he liked his partners willing and sober, but that possibility had become so rare that it was almost non-existant. Years of dealing with drugged up women, he supposed, had put him off the idea of ever getting close to one - and taking advantage just really wasn't his thing. It wasn't that he was a good guy or anything either - he was just an okay guy.

"Amber Sweet appears to be a lot of things," Graverobber said, and he was so used to the world around him that he didn't even notice the two men who were fucking like rabbits just a few feet away, "But her face changes from week to week."

He tapped his finger to his bottom lip in thought, trying to think of a way he could explain it,

"You have to take a pill for your disease," he said, "When you get an attack, you have to take it, yeah? Well, people who take Zydrate are a little like that, except they inflicted the disease on themselves - they took it once, liked it, took it again, and then again. Eventually, they've shot up with Zydrate so many times that their body craves it and they go a little loopy without it. Even if they stop getting elective surgeries, they'll still want the Z."

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug then, leading her out of the mouth of the alleyway and towards another dank looking backalley.
 
Shilo listened to his explanation for the junkies' zydrate addiction, nodding her head afterward to show she understood. It seemed sad, how desperate some of those women where for a 'hit of the glow'. "I don't even like taking my medication." She sulked, glancing idily at the watch still adorning her wrist as it beeped 'Medication reminder'. She looked a bit paler, as if interacting with the prostitutes and Amber had drained a little something from it. It was most likely all the excitement. Her breath began to come faster as she fumbled with a small vial of medicine, dumping two blue crystals into her hand and swallowing quickly. Her hand shook for a moment until the medicine's effects began to kick in. She seemed perfectly fine afterwards. It was almost like an addiction to the poison her father offered her in the form of medicine.

"I'm ok..." She said a few minutes later, a bit of color returning to her deathly pale skin. She didn't want him to take her back to her father or feel like he had caused that small flare of her blood disease. When he wasn't looking, curious little Shilo snuck one of the Zydrate vials out of the holster at his hip, holding it up. "It glows like a nightlight..." She said thoughtfully. Shilo wasn't really interested in Zydrate for it's numbing effects, no, she seemed purely fascinated with how pretty and bright it glowed. Strange kid. "So...where are we going now?"
 
"Yeah, well," Graverobber groused, stopping at the edge of the big building they'd come up behind, "You've probably earned the right to hate medication."

He peered carefully around the corner, as though to be sure no one was there, and then his head snapped around when he saw the blue glow; he realized Shilo had snuck one of the vials from him, and he patted at the container on his side, mildly impressed that she had done it without his feeling it. She didn't seem to be showing much interest in the drug itself, just the fact it was glowing,

"Like a nightlight," he agreed, his voice low, "If nightlights were addictive and came from dead people."

He casually stepped out from the corner then, moving around to the back door of the building, and he pulled out what looked like an old, expired credit card, jamming it in beside the door handle, doing a complicated maneuver, and then popping open the formerly locked door. He gave a half-bow, gesturing to the inside to indicate Shilo should go in,

"Call it my humble abode." he said.
 
Shilo twirled the small glowing blue vial between her fingertips, seeming completely hypnotized by the glow. If she hadn't seen him extracting Zydrate from dead bodies, she never would have guessed it came from the dead, but Graverobber reminded her and it made her hand the vial back over to him quickly, as if it might burn her hands. She watched as he manuevered a locked door open, looking mildly surprised that he actually had a place to stay. She didn't know how much he made off of his illegal activities, but she supposed it must be enough to afford this small place. Shilo didn't move for the longest time, not until he gestured for her to enter. She slipped off his coat as she entered, her little hand fumbling for the light switch. When she finally found it, the lights flickered for a second or two before dimming to a dull glow. His place place was small, certainly by the standards of her father's house. It wasn't even very clean, with clothes strown around in typical male roomkeeping fashion. Still, it had a bed and a bathroom. That was really all she needed.

"Umm...it's very...nice?" She didn't sound at all sure how to describe the small room. She wasn't making any judgements on him, she certainly didn't think less of him for what he could afford. "It's perfect." She said a bit more firmly a few seconds later, dropping his coat onto the large bed in the center of the room, smoothing her skirt modestly over her legs as she sat down. Without his coat covering her, her bared stomach and that tantalizing bit of cleavage was entirely visible. As soon as she was able to, she took off the watch adorning her arm and put it aside, rubbing her wrist once it was off, as if she had just removed a set of heavy chains. "Is it ok for me to stay here?" It was almost cute that she thought to ask his permission. So polite.
 
Graverobber didn't pretend the place was more than it actually was - technically it wasn't even his apartment. He had admittedly acquired the place through questionable means, but really, he didn't have any other means available to him. As it turned out, there were few people in the city who would rent to him, because even there he was considered suspicious, so he had taken advantage of a situation a few months back.

During one of his Zydrate runs, Graverobber had come across the body of a man who had surprisingly still had his wallet on him - and judging by the way he'd been gutted, he had been a recent patient of the Repo Man - and he had discovered the guy was renting out an apartment downtown. Further investigation made it evident that the apartment was low maintenance, cheap, and located in an area so bad that only the truly insane lived there, and the irony was that people avoided the area like a plague, thus making it safer than even the most gated communities. After all, no one broke into a home when there was a good chance that the person on the other side of the door was a complete lunatic.

So Graverobber had continued to pay the meager rent, the owner had continued to accept it, and neither of them had asked any questions; it was a working relationship, so long as he continued to pay. Besides, he was one of the few crazy enough to live there, he did his business out of the apartment, and he only showed up when he felt like having a bed to sleep in instead of a dumpster - which wasn't often.

The place consisted of one wide room that was large enough to contain a decent bed, a closet, and a refrigerator. There was a small bathroom connected through a door on the right, and it was surprisingly clean - even though the Graverobber's standards were lax, even he liked a clean place to bathe.

He raised his eyebrows at Shilo,

"I suspect that even if I say no, that won't mean you'll go home," Graverobber said.
 
Shilo settled comfortably on the large bed, her mind already wandering towards what the sleeping arrangements were going to be. Her gaze shifted as her wrist communicator beeped. A message. It didn't take more then a second to know who it was from. Her father. He had to be frantic by now and suddenly she looked a little guilty. It's not like she wanted her dad to suffer and she certainly didn't want him to worry himself into a stroke or heart attack. She just yearned for what all girls wanted by the age of seventeen. Freedom. Maybe he would take her seriously after this. If not she'd just keep running away until he did. Even if he changed the locks, it would only take her a few weeks to get the hang of picking them again. Shilo didn't so much as touch the beeping communicator, even though it continued to make noises. A few minutes passed before she sighed and motioned for him to be quiet as she held the wrist comminicator up.

"I'm ok dad. I'm staying with a...." Her eyes shifted towards Graverobber and she seemed to smile before continuing. "...friend. I'm not coming back until I'm out of medicine. I love you." She turned the communicator off before Nathan's voice could come through, sighing heavily before slumping backwards on the bed and stretching her tiny frame out. She took up less then half of the bed and already she seemed tired, as if the events of this night had somehow stolen away her energy quicker then usual. "Are you harvesting zydrate in the graveyard again tommorow?" She asked him in a cute, half-asleep voice.
 
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