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Excitement was like a drug. Something that filled every part of her body as it coursed through her veins, almost as if someone had injected it into her. It’s the way it brightens her entire being. Lights up her gaze. Makes her feel energized. All the things she’d be hoping to feel after her second or third cup of coffee. Something that she makes a mental note to ask Salem about supplying, either by machine in the old building or by stopping and resupplying somewhere for the fuel the body needs. Either way, she doesn’t waste more time ogling over the old car when he agrees with her. Shopping. That was the agenda for the morning and the reason for being here so bright and bushy tailed before the sun. Another reminder but this one only made her internally groan. Six AM’s were going to be a nightmare that she’d never forget for as long as she lived but maybe, just maybe, she’d forgive them with the right amount of coffee, not to mention, the sum of money he had promised was a good incentive on that front of forgiveness for the lack of sleep she’d be getting soon. Still, even the reminder of the early hours wasn’t enough to drive out the way her gaze shown climbing into the old Chevy. Vintage was one thing, but this? This would never fall out of prime. It was a car guru’s dream even if it could use some work, that hadn’t mattered. The mere fact that Salem owned such a beautiful piece of machinery was almost enough to make Rylan forget that he was probably going to murder her before the job was through.
It’s easy for the girl to lean against the door, gaze directed out the window as the scenery passes by in a colorful blur of greens and browns and sandy shades. The sound of music drifting up from the speaker down in the dash helped her forget everything else around her. It wrapped her in a lyrical blanket of thoughts and ideas of how she planned to approach this entire rebuild of an engine so complicated that even she questioned her own abilities by looking at, but she was confident. She was good at her job, she didn’t have a choice but to be. Being a female in a male dominated work force was almost like signing her death certificate. It was a surefire way of getting unsolicited comments thrown at her every waking hour and for those in the shop only want her to be a display at the front desk, taking money, writing down orders, sending in cars. Most, not all, men feared a woman who come preform a job better than them. It’s why she had no qualms of staying late, grease up to her elbows, but finishing the job without mistakes. At seventeen, she had learned to strive for good and to let their words bounce off of her, but it was younger than that that built her shell. Verbal abuse was no stranger to the young girl, she just learned to deflect it with a hard exterior of armor that kept her safe. After all, words were like rubber and they simply could just bounce off a person and land on the ground to be stepped upon.
“So, do you have any more mechanical surprises to show me later down the road?” She questions for the small talk, even though Rylan doesn’t mind the drowned out silence with the music drifting through the cab of the vehicle, she wouldn’t mind getting to know the man that may or may not be the last thing she’ll be seeing on an unsuspecting night under the moonlight. “I can’t imagine what one of these must of cost or where you even got lucky to find one.” Fingertips glide easily over the frame of the door, down the interior leather of the door panel as she pauses to take another drink of her coffee. Curiosity was no stranger to Rylan. In fact, it helped aide her in many parts of life growing up to this point. Though, it also ended up with her in trouble more than she cared to admit, as her gaze shifts to look at the other just then. It’s still bright from the happiness of being inside such a vehicle but the tiredness is still there and it’s warmth. Her gaze is softened even. “I gotta ask, are you from here? Did you grow up here or something or are you just…passing through, like most people do?”
Salem’s plan had been to drown out any possibility of a conversation by blaring heavy metal as loud as possible, but it seemed that even with the music filling the cabin of the vehicle, the mechanic next to him was still trying to say something. Much to his annoyance, he’d heard her voice cut through the chorus of the song, a pause halting his own response before he reached a heavily-tattooed hand forward to turn the music down a little.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Salem asked, his voice calm as his pale eyes drifted away from the road to briefly settle on Rylan’s features. Judging from the softness of her expression, he guessed that she was serious, although he couldn’t fathom why she was so eager to make small talk with the likes of him. Her question seemed even more absurd, but regardless, he’d humor her. “Alright...” he began, his sentence trailing off into a brief silence.
“No. I’m not from here. Just passing through,” Salem answered, fishing a cigarette out from within the console that was nestled between their seats and proceeding to settle it between his pierced lips. He didn’t speak again until he’d lit it while stopped at a red light. The tattooed male took a long drag from it, his body then shifting closer to the mechanic’s until he was hovered right across her, his arm outstretching to then manually unroll the window next to her. Smoke was exhaled from his lungs then. “Driver-side window is broken,” he explained, a faint grin tugging on his features as he hovered face-to-face with the female for another moment before he retreated back to his side of the cabin.
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Mornings had never been her favorite unless it was to wake up and see the sunrise but when it came to work or any other type of commitment, Rylan would much rather turn over in bed and cover her face with the blanket just so she can ignore the world for a bit longer. There’s a deep breath that fills her lungs at the thought and God, she missed her bed in this moment but perhaps she could cherish in the rise of the sun out here, away from the city lights that tended to block a view. Yet, Rylan knew there probably wouldn’t be any time for those types of luxuries. It had been an interesting conversation last, explaining to her father that she would finally be taking that vacation time he’d offered her a few years back. Of course he questioned her. Why would the daughter that he knew never took time off, suddenly be putting in for it? And why did the end date not sound confidently set? She followed Salem’s rule of making up an excuse, even if she was a terrible liar, she was able to be honest about just wanting a break from the other guys in the shop. Her patience had worn thin and she didn’t want to chuck a wrench at of their heads for a comment that shouldn’t have gotten under her skin. To her surprise, her father had believed all of it, giving her what she wanted and telling her to take the time she needed, though, he reminded her that without work, there’d be no money and without money, she’d be struggling to support her mother, brother and to afford the shop she dreamed of. Little did this man know, she was still on a job. Just not for him anymore.
Tiredness moves through her body as she walks inside, taking another long drink from the cup of coffee in her hand. The mug still warm and she lets it spread throughout her system. The morning wasn’t cold but the warmth still felt comforting. Comfortable. Something like a fluffy sweater giving a hug to the human body. Her light blue gaze looks up when she hears Salem speak and for the second time since they’ve met, Rylan doesn’t stop the small hint of a smile that crosses her lips. “Morning.” She greets in return, raising the coffee cup as a small wave in his direction before she laughs a little, stopping her inspection of the work benches, nodding at his question. “I learned to be on time at a young age.” A pause and she turns away from the shiny new equipment and benches. “Oh, hell yes I am. Here’s the address to the place we get our tools from. They sell only the best.” Rylan holds out a piece of paper that she tended to always carry in her back pocket on work days with the address of a store scribbled down on it in her father’s handwriting. The paper had seen better days as the years had started to get to it but it was a part of her father that was still kind to her. That still treated her like a daughter instead of just one of the guys that worked for him. “I’d like that back after we’re there. It’s….important.” Rylan can feel her cheeks flush a shade of pink as she looks away from him sheepishly.
The young girl follows him outside just then, her gaze shifting from the ground they walked up to the black 1950 Chevy and her gaze brightens up. As if she hadn’t been extremely tired just moments ago, there’s pep in her step as she bounces over towards the truck. “Holy shit, Salem.” She speaks in mild hints of excitement, forgetting for a moment too long that they were going to go shopping for tools. “This is yours?” Rylan had always had a special place in her heart for older vehicles. They never seemed to get the attention they deserved and most of the people that owned them kept them under lock and key in a garage and only brought them out when they wanted to show them off. “She’s a beauty.” Rylan runs the fingertips of her free hand over the black metal of the body before finally turning to look at him, beaming from the Chevy in front of her. “Right. Shopping. Let’s go!”
Taking the note as it was handed to him, Salem inspected the address that was scribbled down upon it. The ink appeared old and faded and the paper was weathered, giving him the impression that she’d been hanging onto it for quite a while. As he lifted his gaze to settle it back on the mechanic’s face, he studied her, taking note of the warm tint that was settling into the color of her cheeks. He didn’t understand it, nor would he question it, but he assumed that the little slip of paper held some sort of sentimental value to her. “Here,” he spoke, handing it back to her. “I know where it is.” He’d been hanging around the town for long enough to know the general whereabouts of the place, and as long as Rylan knew where she was going, he was sure that they’d be able to find the shop just fine without further use of the paper.
With Rylan’s obvious adoration for vehicles, Salem figured that he should have suspected the reaction that the sight of his old Chevy had pulled from her, but still it had surprised him when she’d bounced so excitedly over to it. Genuinely, he didn’t give too much of a shit about anything on four wheels, as he rarely drove and he wasn’t much for owning possessions, but he supposed that the hunk of metal was alright-looking. For someone that had been around for over three-hundred years, and so had been around during the vehicle model’s prime, it just wasn’t special, albeit a bit nostalgic. He understood the concept of vintage though, and so he humored her and allowed her to take in the sight.
“Shopping,” Salem agreed after Rylan had given herself a vocalized reminder to stay on track. Of course, he was in a hurry to get things done, but not so much so that he was going to rob her of all of her joy and make her miserable.
Once he’d climbed into the car with the female in the passenger’s seat, Salem turned on the temporary speaker that he’d had installed beneath the dashboard. The old vehicle hadn’t even come with a radio system, and so he’d needed to improvise. Without another word, he pulled away from the factory and headed down the long dirt road, a song by Cradle of Filth blasting on the speaker. His car, his rules. He cared little to ask about the other’s musical tastes. Besides, she could listen to whatever she wanted once they were back at the factory and she was working on the truck. Coffinfeeder by Cannibal Corpse, a favorite of his, was the next to play.
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Her gaze never leaves him as he speaks but she feels herself take an involuntary step back as he comes closer to her. She doesn’t wish to show fear, but in reality, it’s hard to swallow it down in this case. His words didn’t hold an empty threat and she’s smart enough to know. She knows she’s outmatched in this situation and that he could easily take her if he wanted to. He could kill her in the snap of his fingers, if he wanted and she knew that. She may have been agile and could run some distance but that would be stupid to try. He’d catch her before she made it far, considering their new closeness, but even as she listens to him, she simply nods in reply. Rylan had no plans on telling anyone in the shop nor did she wish to speak of it at home. The only person she’d ever actually spill to was Addison but even now, she wasn’t going to. Not with the knowledge him being dangerous. “Yeah, I got it the first time. I’ll be here at six am sharp.” Rylan replies, not feeling as if she needs to give him answers to anything else and she knew the trip home would just be full of more questions and curiosities that she’d eventually want to figure out for herself but tonight, she wanted the time to think. She wanted it to settle as to just what she had shook on and agreed to. The morning would come quicker now than planned and there wasn’t really any time to waste in contacting her father of her newly planned absence.
—-le time skip—-
Rylan had been right at her alarm going off far too early than any normal human being would have found appropriate. She peeled herself out of bed with a groan, desperately needing a shower to wake her up before cladding herself in a pair of blue skinny jeans and a v-neck shirt that she wouldn’t mind getting dirty. After socks and shoes, she made her way down in the quiet house, making coffee for the drive before heading out the door. Six AM still meant the sun was playing the snooze button a few times over and the world was just starting to stir so the trip to the old glass plant was a quiet one. Nothing really stopped it from being a straight shot minus the streetlights and the few stop signs leading out and when she arrives, she clambers out of the slightly beat car. It wasn’t her favorite, nor was it something she cared a lot about. It was just a car to get where she needed. One to take her from place to place until she could get one she actually wanted to care for and baby. This wasn’t it. Nothing short of a stepping stone for the young mechanic.
Tired gaze looks around the abandoned plant as she searches for the black clad male from last night. She came prepared today. This time having keys to her car in one pocket and a pocket knife in the other. If this was going to ultimately lead to her death, she wasn’t going to go die without a fight and maybe his blood under her nails if she was lucky enough to leave a trail for someone to follow to him. Rylan takes a long drink from the cup of coffee warming her hands as she leans back against her vehicle. She’s not to the point of wanting to walk inside the old plant and stirring up all those old memories it holds inside for her. Of course the stranger would pick the one place she wouldn’t have cared to venture to again. “I swear to god, if you scare me and I spill this coffee, I’m walking away from the money and everything else.” Rylan’s meaning for it to be spoken under her breath but she knows her volume is a little louder than it’s meant for. Instead, she finally pushes away from the driver side door to head for the plant, willing herself with the help of another long swig of the still hot liquid to let her step inside. Her gaze noticing the engine jack next to the truck, ready and waiting for her. The benches she had told him about sitting there ready and her tools. A brand new set of tools that had never touched a greasy car part in their lives. There was something about that thought that makes her smile. Actually smile.
Just like Salem had promised, the benches had been delivered and set up for her, along with the engine jack that she’d requested. It had taken him most of the night to get it all, but with some connections and some luck, he’d managed to pull it all off in time. Luckily for him, he was used to running on low amounts of sleep and high amounts of caffeine, so this was nothing new to him. It did, however, make him envious of the term ‘catnap’ and those that were able to use it. It had been so long since he’d been a mere feline that he couldn’t even remember what it was like anymore. He’d been humanized after all of these years, so aside from a few mannerisms and the ability to be able to shift into a four-legged form, he’d lost touch with that side of himself long ago.
As soon as Rylan had pulled up in front of the factory, Salem noticed her presence. He’d heard her pull up in her vehicle from his place inside of the building, perched in a comfortable sitting position on top of a crate with a cup of coffee in his hand. His smoky eyes settled their gaze on the young woman as she entered through the doorway, watching her as she inspected the benches and the engine jack that were in plain sight. He could tell by the lull in her footsteps and the coffee in her hands that she was tired, but in the expression that she wore upon her face, he could see excitement too. During the time that he’d spent watching her at her shop, he’d been able to sense the fiery passion that burned inside of her when it came to her love of machinery, and it was for that reason, among some others, that he’d chosen her for the job.
“Morning, sunshine,” Salem spoke, breaking the silence that hung in the dusty air of the old factory walls. “Right on time.” The tall, lanky male slid off of the crate that he’d been perched upon and stepped over to where his mechanic stood. “You ready to go shopping?” He asked, taking a sip of coffee from his paper to-go cup. He knew that she was likely quite eager to get the ball rolling, both so that she could get paid and so that she could finally take a better look under the hood of the truck, but she would need the rest of her tools if she was going to do a proper assessment.
His own truck, an old black 1950 Chevy, was waiting outside for them. It was very rare that he ever used it, so it had been quite a while since it had been serviced, but it still ran. That was good enough for him.
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What a marvelous piece of machinery that sat underneath the hood. A pleasant surprise for once in her life and she was almost finding herself wanting to thank to black-cladded male for bringing this truck here. Though, she knew that if she was able to fix this engine, that’d be more than enough to prove herself to the shop. To her father. To her self. Was it worth it though? Pushing this man’s threats to see how far they’d stretch and possibly end in her death? It wasn’t worth it and she knew that instantly. Who would take care of Max if she was gone? Her father didn’t care enough to even come by the house to spend time with the boy and their mother was too wrapped up in her jobs to really pay much mind to what was happening in her children’s lives. Not to mention, Rylan wouldn’t have trusted Malissa with a puppy, let alone and actual human being that wasn’t the man in her life. There’s a small sigh that slips out through her lips without realization at the thought of it all. The money was what she needed, for many different things. It really just happened to depend on if she wanted to use her heart for good or be a little selfish and fulfill a long time dream.
Questions swam inside Rylan’s mind. Who built this beauty? What made all these markings? Her curiosity was always going to lead to her death, at least, that’s something she believed ever since she was young. It was that curiosity that ended in injuries and hospital visits from broken bones or long falls from tall places because she wanted to reach something, to see something, to get into trouble that she shouldn’t have ventured into the first place. Still, something told her to keep them to herself, at least, for the time being. Tonight wasn’t the night for questions with this mystery man who had a great name. She’d save them for later, taking a mental page out of a notebook to write them all down. Surely she wouldn’t forget. Yet, at the moment, she was also debating if working in the shop during the days would be worth the lack of sleep she’d be losing from this job. Would he only want her working in the dark of the night after everything had closed? Or would he prefer for this little secret mission to be a trip with the sun and moon together? Long hours were strangers to her but she needed to know if she had to tell her father to shove a wrench where the sun didn’t shine and that she’d be taking all those vacation days he once tried to shove down her throat.
Rylan steps towards him once he starts speaking, her gaze shimmering from the different emotions drifting through her being. Tonight wasn’t meant to be a whirlwind of things. It was simply meant to be a quiet evening working on the Audi without any form of interruptions. Everyone had left for the night and she was ready to blare some music and loose herself. Let her muscles drain their tension as she got covered in grease and sweat from the hard work it would take to switch out the transmission. Yet, this night had been anything but what she’d expected or had hoped for. “You confuse me.” Rylan speaks once he stops talking before taking his hand to shake it, albeit a little cautiously, still afraid he may choose to slaughter her at any given moment. “I’ll keep you posted on what else I’ll need when it comes to large equipment but that’s definitely what we’ll need to start.” She nods, letting her hand drop from his after she shakes on the agreement, her gaze never leaving him. “Timeframe wise, do you want me to specifically stay with your truck or do you want me to split my time between the shop during the day and here at night?” There’s a small shift with her head to the side, her gaze shifting between him and the truck just then.
In reality, Rylan had zero concern with her day job after he promised twenty percent before the handshake had been complete, yet, as she steps past him and back toward the shop, she stops, looking back to him once again, a sheepish look crossing her features. “I can help you get the benches tonight. The tools may have to wait until morning though. The store that sells them opens at 9am sharp every weekday. Though, I don’t need them to take the engine out. The jack will come with everything for that job.” A pause and she slips her hands into the pockets of her skinny jeans. “You hungry?”
There were a few moments this night that had Salem genuinely questioning whether Rylan may have had a few loose screws or not, and as she’d caught him off-guard with the offer of grabbing something to eat with her, another moment had been added to the growing list. Pale, grey-blue eyes settled on the mechanic as she’d turned to look at him, his eyebrow quirking in a puzzled expression of curiosity. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that anyone would come out here in the middle of the night, following a guy like him over to an abandoned factory and a truck that looked like it may have been possessed at some point in the pits of Hell, and not see the situation as sketchy. And yet, even after he could tell that he’d given her a case of the creeps, she was still asking him if he was hungry.
“No,” Salem answered bluntly, flicking the build-up of ashes from the tip of his cigarette. “Anyways, like I said, this needs to stay quiet. This means no telling your friends, your family, your co-workers. No one. I feel like it goes without saying, but just in case you’re having trouble figuring it out, I’m a dangerous guy. Don’t piss me off.” His voice was calm as he spoke, but the meaning behind each word was stern and burning with a fiery threat. For a mechanic like her, he was sure that bragging about this truck to her fellow grease-monkey friends would be a dream come true, but it would also be a death sentence.
Footsteps carried the tattooed male closer as Salem approached where the blue-eyed woman had stopped, his lips pausing their conversation for a moment to inhale the smoke from what was left of his shrinking cigarette. “You’ll work full-time for me until the job is done. You’ll make triple the pay, not just for the job itself, but for every hour of labor that you put in. Tell your boss that you’ll be taking some time off and make up an excuse. I don’t care what it is, just make it believable.” He flicked his cigarette again. “You can show me which benches you need and I’ll get them over here, but I don’t need your help. It would be more useful if you just went home and got some rest. You’ll be needing it, because we’ll be meeting back here at six.”
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What had she really been thinking? Apparently, nothing good. Following instinct hadn’t really been something Rylan was the best at. It had normally been something of a hit and miss for the young girl when she was alone. Her brain tended to choose fight over flight most of the time because she wasn’t scared of getting hurt, mentally, physically. Sometimes she let the pain be something to remind her of being alive. Of breathing. Of remembering that others had it worse than she did but now wasn’t the time to think of those things. Rylan thought of Addison. Would her best friend be judging her right now? Most definitely. She’d probably call Rylan insane and not believe her of the tale that was going to be spieling from her lips. The one person she told everything to. Though, a part of her knew better than to tell Addison about this. Something about the way Salem had mentioned this being quiet and keeping it that way, had shook something inside of her. Something she didn’t really want to disturb because disturbing it meant waking up more fear and she wasn’t exactly ready for that wave of emotion just yet.
There’s a moment where she purses her lips together, walking back over to the truck as he does, but her movements aren’t to match his own. She wants a better inspection of the body. Running her fingers gently, carefully over each claw mark. Over the imprint of a hand. Over the melted dents and the bullet holes. Her mind cannot comprehend a proper answer for most of these. At least, anything that wasn’t done by a gun of some sort. Had he gotten into a fight with a large cat and ran for his truck as cover? No. Not even a lion’s claw could possibly be able to do that, surely. Still. She’s thrown back to reality when he speaks, though, not exactly expecting his voice, which causes her to jump a little but the moment she sees the smile, her body loses it’s tension a bit. A smile. She had felt it cause her own lips to curl upwards in one. An infectious smile. Rylan wouldn’t have expected that out of Salem. Not from their conversation in the garage or even out here but it felt good to see that smile on his face and know that something she had said had put it there. A good way to make this night not seem so dark, after all.
“Oh. Thank you.” Rylan offers a light smile of her own as she takes his hand and steps up onto the creaky box. She felt the butterflies instantly come alive in her stomach at the noise of the wood but she tries her best to not show it in her features as she steadies herself, letting go of his hand to actually be able to get a good look under the hood. Rylan doesn’t stop the surprise that takes over her features when she gets a good look at the actual engine. She wasn’t expecting it to be a mixture of parts from different vehicles nor to be something of power in her mind and she lets out a low whistle, something she had grown used to her father doing at things that actually surprised him in the shop. “Well, I wasn’t wrong in calling it a bad boy, that’s for sure.” She half laughs to herself as she bends over the front of the truck, leaning further under the hood for a better inspection. Once she’s actually satisfied, she turns to look at him before carefully hopping down off the box. “You might wanna call that company and ask for an engine jack. There’s no way I’ll be able to remove that on my own.” A pause and she makes a mental note of all the things she’ll need in her head. “I’ll need a few tool boxes as well. Did you see the red benches in the garage floor? I’m gonna need a few of those to keep everything organized.”
There’s a brief sigh that leaves her lips at the thought. She still has suspicions and fear rising in the back of her throat but she keeps telling herself the money will be worth it. At the end of this, with the right calculations, Salem will have paid for her own place and then some. The largest dream Rylan had had since she was teenager and first fell in love with working on vehicles. “It’s gonna take at least a week. Maybe two or more if we can’t get the right parts in the city. I…wasn’t expecting what you had under your hood.” She replies truthfully, her light blues settling upon his features in the moonlight. “As for my personal tools, if you don’t want to raise suspicion, I’m going to need another set. My father knows I won’t use any other tools but my own.” She gives a single shoulder shrug just then, a small, sheepish smile forming on her lips as she admits to it. “Hope you’re ready for a lot of time spent together.”
Just as Salem had expected, it didn't take Rylan long to change the timeframe that she'd estimated to complete the job after she'd looked under the hood. He'd been through this before, after all, and the mechanic that had originally put together the engine for the vehicle had taken about three months to come up with the creation the first time. At least Rylan would have the old model to use as a blueprint, which would greatly shorten the time. All she would need to do was copy it and perhaps add a modification here or there if she thought that she could make an improvement somewhere.
If it were up to him, he would have returned to the original mechanic, but he’d dropped off the grid a few months ago and it was difficult to get a location on him. Besides, with the state of the vehicle and the urgency behind getting it repaired, he didn’t have time for goose chases. He couldn’t be picky, and so he’d settled for the best that he could find in the vicinity. He just hoped that this Rylan girl was actually capable of pulling this off.
After Rylan had finished inspecting what she could see from her view inside the hood, Salem gave a nod. She’d asked for a few different things, including some work benches and an engine jack, and she’d also made a good point about raising suspicion, should she take her own tools. It would be an aggravation and another expense to buy her a brand new set of tools, but he supposed that it couldn’t be helped. A shopping trip would be in their plans for tomorrow, it seemed. “I can do that. I’ll grab the benches tonight and I’ll have the jack here for you by morning.” He paused to take a quick drag from his cigarette before continuing, clouds of grey smoke exiting his lips while he spoke. “We’ll take a trip to the store so that you can pick out some new tool sets. I’ll find the rest of the heavy equipment as you need it.”
“I’ll give you twenty percent of your quote tomorrow, and you’ll get the rest when the job is done. Deal?” Salem placed his cigarette between his lips to free his hand, holding it out to her to shake.
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As much as Rylan wanted to run for the hills or back into the city or anywhere to get some place that felt safe, something was telling her not too. This strange man and his strange truck had been something more than a mystery to her and she was starting to feel frustration take over the fear inside of her. Yet, she wanted to get a better look of the vehicle. She wanted to know the answers to it’s strange markings. The melted metal wasn’t natural and no human could claw into a truck like whatever had done that. She had seen some pretty messed up bodies in the shop and frames that held them, but nothing compared to the way the body of his truck looked. What had caused it? What had put that sunken-in handprint in it? She wants to ask but she bites her tongue, it’s partly why she was so quick to get back to the shop to fix it up, she knew if she stayed, she’d simply be inclined to actually ask him questions he probably wouldn’t answer or that would probably get her killed. One thing she was trying to avoid here.
When Rylan realizes that he isn’t going to follow, she turns on the heels of her purple converse to look at him. Arms rising as hands move to rest upon her hips. What was with this guy? Why was the glass plant so important? The last time she was here was with an ex and she’d wanted nothing more than to go some place that didn’t hold that many memories, or at least, ones that she could block out of her mind with work and blaring music. Still though, she feels her feet take her back toward him, if he’s not moving, then she’s not going back to the shop. Rylan’s not dumb enough to realize that she needs this deal. That much money would get her so close to the shop she wanted to own and then some. That kind of cash didn’t just fall into people’s laps every day and this complete stranger seemed to have zero issues in raising the price as their conversation continued. As much as she hated the money grubbing side of her father, she knew he could be wise to take a deal like this. It’d give her the dream she wanted but she wasn’t about to tell Salem that. That felt too personal for this type of conversation.
As he talks, she listens, her arms moving, hands no longer upon her hips, instead, they cross over her chest, her hip cocking outward as she changes the weight on her feet. There’s still distance between them but it’s not as large as it had been on the walk here. There’s a raise to her eyebrow just then. “Hold on.” She starts, gaze narrowing a little as she looks from him to the truck then back to him again. “You want me to basically turn the old glass plant into a shop for this job? I mean, I have the tools in the shop but it’d definitely be weird if I took them out with others there.” She stops then, thinking over the words he said to her carefully. The money was a big lull of this deal but now, she wasn’t exactly sure if it was worth it. “Why is it so quiet? Did you kill someone and need it as your get-away vehicle?” Rylan stops just then, a sigh escaping her lips as her arms drop from her chest and she closes her eyes for a moment. “Sorry, that question wasn’t okay for me to ask.” She shakes her head, stepping toward him without thinking.
Was she an idiot for agreeing to this? Probably. Would it lead to her death if it had gone any other way? Also quite possibly. She doesn’t know Salem. He’s just some guy in a band shirt she likes with tattoos and a lip ring with dark makeup. Yet, she feels like she can’t walk away from this. As if she does, her mind says something will happen and she’s done trying to weigh her options out here in the middle of a dirt road next to a plant that no one cares about anymore. Frustration filters through her system then. “Fine, but if you want me to look at it tonight, I need something to help me get up to see in the truck after you pop it’s hood. I’ll give you the estimate tonight and we’ll go from there.” She pauses then, gaze settling upon his as she takes another daring step closer to this man. “But I have questions of my own. I won’t ask them yet but all of this is just….too strange.”
Anyone with at least one eye and a minimum of two braincells to rub together would be able to see that Rylan was a little uncomfortable in the situation; Salem didn’t need his feline intuition to see it. He didn’t blame her in the slightest for it though, and in fact he had to commend her for her bravery in deciding to go through with following him all the way over to the glass plant in the middle of the night. Had it been stupid of her to follow a strange man over to an abandoned building without the security of broad daylight? Probably. But nothing risked, nothing gained, he always said. In his opinion, it would have been even dumber of her to turn down the amount of money that he was offering, as he knew that it would be somewhere in the hundreds of thousands. He’d thrown around small numbers like four or five thousand when he’d been giving her examples, but he knew that fifty-thousand as a base price wouldn’t be unlikely. Once that was tripled, it would be a hell of a profit for the young mechanic.
For the first time that night, Rylan had managed to pull a genuine smile onto Salem’s face, a laugh slipping out from between his pierced lips as she’d asked him if he’d murdered someone and used it as a getaway vehicle. He didn’t know if she’d meant for the comment to be comical or if she’d truly meant it in all seriousness, but he didn’t let it rub him the wrong way. If anything, it had helped to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, fine. That works,” Salem told her with a nod of his head after she’d continued on to request that he help her find something to stand on so that she could get a proper look under the hood of the truck. There was still a hint of soft laughter in the tone of his voice as he spoke, a smile still tugging at the corner of his lips. Heading back over to the truck, he glanced around until he’d spotted an old, empty storage crate. Picking it up, he carried it over and set it down in front of the front of the vehicle, popping the hood after and then offering his hand to the petite female. The wood of the crate was old and rotting, so the last thing he needed was for the girl to fall through it and hurt herself. “Any large-scale equipment you need, I can rent from a place I know in the city. We can collect any of your personal tools tonight and move them over here,” he added while he waited.
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voices, in my head again
beating me in a war i can’t win
i can hear them now
trapped in a game inside my own skin [x]
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mechbeaut:
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Fear was a palpable emotion. Something that could hang in the air in a crowded room of people, not that she has much experience of that but they drills in school that would scare people which only allowed that fear to shift into the air. Sometimes it infected others and sometimes it just hung there, like a smell that one couldn’t rid a room of and she was only partly conscious of this thought. Was her fear lingering between them in this moment? Was it palpable enough for him to feel it? To sense it? There weren’t many things that scared Rylan, at least, none that she would fully admit to, especially out loud but red flags were enough to make the hair in the back of her neck stand at end as she looked this man over, weighing her options once more and finally figuring it’d be stupid to rush for a weapon and smash it over his head or across his face. God, who was she becoming when her fight or flight had decided to not even give an answer to her brain at all? Was she really going to be as daft as those girls in the horror movies she liked to watch? Sure she’d hope she’d meet a different end than most of them with this man.
Rylan follows him without a word. Instead, she reaches up to rub her hand at the back of her neck as they move. It feels good to finally be out of the shop and into the fresh air, taking a deep breath of it as they walked. The smell of the smoke had only caused her nose to wrinkle just a bit before she eventually shifted her walking position so it blew past her instead. There was no question of asking for a cigarette for herself, nor was she going to ask for a drag. Instead, she simple just continued down with him. The sky was clear tonight, allowing the stars to shine brightly on the black back drop that space gave them and the glow of the moon was enough to make the young girl want to stop walking and just admire the view. It was nice to be secluded out here, away from the city lights enough to see the stars but with a strange man? Rylan wanted a different situation, even as her gaze kept drifting from him, to the ground, to his shirt and back again. Why was it something that stuck out so well in her mind? Why did she care about a silly little t-shirt?
At the mention of his name, she simply nods. Too lost in her own thoughts to form a sentence at the moment. Salem. Not a name she heard given often to children. Actually, it was quite unique and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like it. There had been a cat in one of her favorite movies named Salem and then there was the town. Though, the town, she was sure, most wouldn’t have named their children after but who was she to determine such a thing? After all, Rylan had zero idea why her parents decided her name was a good fit for the girl when her siblings seemed to have pretty common ones in comparison. Yet, even as Rylan followed him, keeping her distance, staying behind him ever so slightly to know and make sure that he wouldn’t be able to surprise attack her, she wondered if he’d be anything like that black cat from Sabrina The Teenage Witch.
The old glass plant hand once been a booming factory, or so her father used to say. Rylan wasn’t alive during the time of it’s reign but she used to like to come venture in it’s decaying walls and it’s crunchy floors. The amount of injuries she’d get here still makes her want to sheepishly laugh at how reckless it was to think this was a good place to go when her father was too busy in his upstairs office or she wasn’t allowed on the floor of the shop anymore. Still, as they had stopped, the place brought back memories but those were scattered from her mind when she saw the truck. It took everything in Rylan’s power to not let her jaw drop as she walked closer to it as he explained what was wrong with it. She had listened, of course, even if it had seemed she wasn’t. A hand carefully reaches out, fingers tracing over one of the bullet holes before shifting to where strange melted dent was. Her mind instantly going into body repair mode, trying to figure out what had made such a strange dent before changing to the claw marks in the metal, the hand print that had sunken-in to it’s frame. Curiosity lit a fire in her blood and she drops her hand away, turning to look at the male as he finishes speaking.
“Well, Salem.” Rylan begins, looking at him, her light blue gaze scanning his features as he takes a drag from the cigarette. “I’m gonna have to get it to the shop for me to be able to see under the hood, since ya know, I’m not exactly the tallest mechanic out there.” She smiles a little at her own jab to herself before she continues. “But I should be able to fix it. I can replace the front windshield too, that’ll be easy than a full engine replacement. I hope you’ve got the rest of your night free because it’s gonna take until morning if I keep it at without a break.” Rylan let’s a soft sigh escape her as she walks back to him, throwing a look over her shoulder at the truck. “There’s a tow truck out back of the shop. We can use it to bring that bad boy back.” With a pause, she starts to brush past him, heading back down the road toward the place that had meant to be her second home. “Also, Salem’s a pretty unique name. I think it fits you pretty well. I’m Rylan. Even though you didn’t ask.” She shifts, putting her hands in the pockets of her black skinny jeans as she stops to wait for him to catch up with her before continuing. “Once I get under the hood, I can tell you the price it’ll cost.”
Just as Salem had expected, Rylan seemed quite shocked by both the obscure model of the vehicle and the strange, hellish inflictions that marked up its body. Much to his surprise and his appreciation, however, she’d held her tongue and resisted the urge to ask too many questions about any of it, even after he’d seen her pale gaze trailing over the demonic handprints. He knew that those had to have sparked some sort of curiosity in her young mind, and at the very least struck some fear into her, and yet she’d kept herself together and still accepted his offer nonetheless. He could respect that.
The feline had been just about to speak on the topic of the unexpected short time estimate for the job, as well as Rylan’s short height, when she had brushed past him, dropping a sudden compliment in his direction about his name and how it suited him. He wasn’t exactly sure what it meant; was she saying that his name was weird and that it suited him because he, too, was also weird? Regardless, he took it with a grain of salt and assumed that she had pure intentions. “Uh, thanks, Rylan,” he answered her, almost uncomfortably. Insults were nothing new to him, but compliments were almost entirely foreign. He never quite knew what to do with them.
‘Idiot.’ Rosalie scoffed in the back of Salem’s mind, relishing in the feeling of discomfort that she knew that the tattooed male was in. While the two of them were, ultimately, bitter enemies, they’d been together for so long now that they’d both learned to try their best to tolerate one another. Banter wasn’t uncommon between the two, although Salem always tried his best to answer her whenever he was alone, simply to avoid being questioned as to why he was seemingly talking to himself.
Shaking off the comment from Rosalie and the compliment from Rylan, Salem shook his head. “I still don’t think you’re quite understanding, love,” he spoke, unmoving from his place in front of the glass plant. “I’m sure you can tell just by looking at it, but that isn’t your average vehicle. There’s a reason that I’m willing to pay you so much to get it fixed up, and it’s not because it’s the sort of vehicle that I can just drop off in some public shop. Get it?” He quirked an eyebrow, trying not to sound frustrated. “This has to stay quiet. Off the radar. You fix it here in the plant, or we’ve got no deal.” Should she decline, he was fully prepared to kill her on the spot. Needless bloodshed wasn’t something that he was seeking, but she’d already seen too much. “Whatever tools and materials you need, we can bring them over. I’ll pay for whatever it is you think you’ll require to get the job done. It stays here though, understand?”
The estimated time that Rylan had given him for completing the job was something else that Salem had taken with a grain of salt, as he knew that she had yet to look under the hood. The outside of the truck was foreign-looking, to be sure, but it was nothing in comparison to the innards, of which were an intricate combination of various designs. He knew that she’d certainly change her timeframe as soon as she got a look at it. He wouldn’t have been shocked if she were to tell him that the job would take weeks.
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mechbeaut:
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Working late wasn’t a strange thing for Rylan Upsur to do. After all, she had a strong drive to prove herself and show that she belonged here. It was fucking stupid how hard she tried to prove to her father that he made the right choice but in the end, all of this was building up to one thing, her own shop. She didn’t want to be under the watchful gaze of a man that left her with her mother and siblings to fend for themselves. She didn’t want to be stuck with a group of men who didn’t show respect aside the fact that she was boss’s daughter. They didn’t recognize how good she really was. She was just simply a woman that looked good under the hood of a car and on top of one when it came to detail work to clean up a vehicle. The thought always brought anger to her blood. She hated it. Hated the way the world saw women in a profession that was mainly ran by men. Why did they get all the dirty jobs and the women had to be homemakers? The thought caused her to mentally shake herself but her gaze never left the stranger in front of her. Why would it? Not with him finally being inside the shop and her being alone with him? Sure, she had weapons at her disposal but he also had them now too and it would come down to who was faster. The ex-cheerleader or this random goth dude she knew next to nothing about besides the fact he apparently had a shit ton of money and a car that needed fixed.
Still. He was confusing. Rylan couldn’t quite figure out his angle. Why this shop of all the shops in the city and why now? How secretive was this huge plan he seemed to have that involved a car and would it cause her to become an accomplice of something she had no idea about? Too many red flags surrounded him and she feels a bit bashful when he calls her on the insults she’s thrown at him. It’s a defense, really. A way to try to get him to leave. Words used as weapons instead of fists or tools. She didn’t want blood on her hands, after all. Speaking of which, she raises a hand and presses her palm to her forehead, eyes closing for a second as she draws a breath. Get a grip, Ryls. She chides herself lightly before sliding her hand back and through her hair, ruffling it and moving it from her face as her gaze reopens to settle back upon him. The Audi seemed to be without harm from what she could tell, which she was thankful for, as the car sat in the possession of the shop and any damage to it would probably come from her paycheck since she claimed it as her repair. Still, she’s going to have to move eventually, and she hops off the table then, pressing her lower back to it, feet firm on the ground and she nods as he finally finishes speaking.
“Yeah. Sorry.” Rylan gives a slight shake of her head, stumbling over the two words for a moment before looking at him and finally stepping away from the table. She can do this. She needed to have faith she wasn’t going to get randomly slaughtered. “It’s just a little mind boggling when someone offers up that much money for a car repair. Not to mention, you’re a complete stranger and I don’t know if you’re going to kill me the moment we step out that door.” A pause and she moves to the side, still keeping her distance from this man before her with a good band shirt on. “Sorry about the insults.” Rylan nods then, moving her arm out toward the door as if to gesture for him to go first. After all, she had seen far too many horror movies to know that she shouldn’t be the first one out of those doors. Not anymore. “Lead the way, Mr. Stranger…” A pause and for the first time tonight, she smiles a little. “That’s a bad nickname. What do you want me to call you?”
Although it greatly depended on his mood and the current state of his unstable mental health, Salem generally cared little about any insults that were ever thrown his way. Most of the things that were spat spitefully in his direction were honest facts in which he would even agree with anyways, and he wasn’t the type to shy away from or deny reality. He was unapologetically who he was, and he cared little of the opinions of others. Being that he was over three-hundred years old, his skin had had plenty of time to thicken, after all, and he’d grown all too numb to the sting of an insult. In comparison to the pain of his seemly endless existence, a pitiful human having a poor opinion of him paled.
As Salem turned on his scuffed shoes to head out of the door of the shop, he allowed the apology from the mechanic to pass through one ear and right out of the other. Whether it was sincere or not, it really mattered little to him. He simply needed her to shut up, stop asking questions, and give him a quote so that they could get a move-on with the vehicle that he needed to have repaired. So long as she cooperated, he intended on paying her exactly as he’d promised.
“Salem.” The gothic male answered the blue-eyed woman, pulling out a cigarette from the pack in his back pocket and lighting it before bringing it to his lips. Although he certainly didn’t want to be leaving any sort of paper trail, his general presence was so quiet and insignificant in this world that the mention of his name held hardly any weight at all, and anyone that tried to trace it back to him would have a near-impossible time with it. Perhaps this would have been the point where he asked her for her name in return, but he already knew it from observing her over the last little while. Rylan.
“This way. It’s parked at the old glass plant,” he continued, gesturing with a shrug of one of his shoulders in the direction of the vehicle. He was silent after that, blowing out smoke from between his pierced lips as he nursed the cigarette between his tattooed fingers. He knew that the girl had to be quite nervous, following such a strange man to such a quiet place in the middle of the night, and so he was careful to keep his distance from her and he allowed her to go at her own pace. He was creepy, he knew, but he wasn’t trying to exaggerate that quality on purpose.
A few blocks away from the shop, down a long dirt road, sat the old abandoned glass plant, a banged-up vehicle parked in the entryway. It was brandless and foreign to anything that one could buy off the market; a giant black truck, equipped with heavy chains and clad in various spikes, the paint wearing and peeling away from the metal, but the various wiccan sigils that had once been drawn upon it still visible. The body of it was riddled in scars, varying from bullet holes to strange melted dents, and even the odd set of claw marks that had been shredded through the metal and the sunken-in prints of hands with thin, boney fingers. It, quite literally, looked like it had been through hell.
“This is it,” Salem told her, gesturing to the mechanic and then over towards the vehicle, taking another long drag of his cigarette and exhaling the smoke into the cool night air before he continued. “The engine is shot. Probably some other things wrong with it too, but I’m not a mechanic. That’s your job to figure out.” He shrugged. “I’m not worried about the aesthetics. Maybe change the front windshield if you feel so inclined, but other than that, I just need it to run properly.”
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Rylan wonders why he chose this shop. Why he chose to wait until it was her in the shop on her own. Was he a some kind of creeper? She had many tools at her disposal here that she could injure or even kill him with if it came down to it, it was just a matter of keeping the space between them. Giving her the ability to have a quick upper hand if it came down to it. She could easily grab a wrench from her own tool box set and bash it over his head if she turned on her heels, throwing the broom between them. An escape plan, just like her mother always told her to have, was formed in her head. She keeps her arms crossed over her frame just then, looking him over a few times and the kind part of her wants to ask about his tattoos and if he really was a fan of the band on his shirt but the rational side of her, the one that was quick thinking and in control right now was trying to decide if she needed to kick on fight or flight. Was he going to end her life in her father’s shop or was he being real with her? Had there been a car that was brought in that was his earlier and she just hadn’t been paying attention or the others just hadn’t told her? That wasn’t uncommon. They had no faith in her abilities even if she was the better mechanic.
There’s a small change in her gaze as she narrows her eyes at him, noticing the grin upon his lips at her words. She holds her ground through, left hip cocking out as she shifts the weight of her body from one leg to the other. “No. Not all of them. Just the ones that come knocking on my door after midnight and I’m the only one here.” A pause and she gives a small shrug of her left shoulder just then. “So really, yeah, you’re special, if that’s what you want to be.” It’s that moment she takes a small step toward the table with the broom leaning against it, acting as if she just wants to find a better place to stand. Rylan’s been on this concrete floor all day in a pair of purple converse that did no wonders to her feet and she decided to work late, which apparently, she should’ve listened to her father tonight. What a silly little girl she was proving to be.
There’s a quirk to her left eyebrow as he spoke, continuing on as if she didn’t have the moment to reply. “Confuse you how?” She’s caught off guard by it but the way he continues as if she hadn’t just thrown a bunch of insults his way wasn’t what she was expecting. Nor was it something she was prepared for. As he comes further in, Rylan steps further away, closer to the table where the broom is at, her escape plan slowly dwindling in it’s chances of success to work but she does take a moment to think about his offer when he grins at her. “No. That is enough to entice me. Actually, it’s more than enough. I don’t think I’d ever charge that much for anything.” A pause and she shakes her head, tossing curls around her shoulders. “Not picky. Just not like my father.” This time her voice is stern. She doesn’t ever wish to be money hungry the way he is. “Well, when it comes to pay, yeah. Money matters depending on the car because there’s different things under the hood and they cost different amounts. You clearly didn’t….know that, did you?” A pause and this time she smiles, for the first time since he’s appeared, she actually smiles. “If I’m being honest, I wouldn’t peg you for Ford Focus kind of guy but I’ve been surprised before.” She moves, using her hands to press on the table to lift herself to sit upon the table top, legs dangling over the edge in her skinny black jeans as her light blues never leave him. “No, no. I’ll do it. I’m just curious is all. It’s not every day a random stranger shows up in a shop with a lone girl asking her to fix a mysterious car for more money than needs to be.”
It didn’t surprise Salem in the slightest to see the mechanic’s timid and cautious reactions to his presence in her shop, his pale gaze taking notes of her movements as he proceeded further into the building. He wasn’t oblivious to the fact that his entire persona was rather off-putting at times, his unsettling demeanor and appearance often leaving people feeling uneasy or perturbed. He’d been described on numerous occasions as creepy and weird, and so he came to expect these sorts of reactions; the backwards-stepping, the careful movements, the gazes that scanned the room for escape routes. He’d experienced it all. He supposed that it made sense this time in particular though, being that it was the middle of the night and she was a female, all alone in a closed-up shop with a strange man. He would have been concerned for her, had she not seen some red flags.
“Oh?” Salem questioned with a quirk of his eyebrow after the female had once again insulted him by questioning his knowledge of how pricing worked, as though it wasn’t common sense. He couldn’t tell if this girl was simply confused, or if she was a little dense. “Forgive me, but I think you’ve missed my point. I’m fully aware that everything comes at a different cost, which is why I never set a price. How am I to know what you would charge? Isn’t that up to you, as the mechanic? I told you that I would triple whatever it was that you would charge for the work that I need done. If you would charge three thousand, I’ll pay you nine. If you would charge me ten, I’ll pay you thirty. Understand?”
Salem shook his head, moving on without wanting to further explain himself. “If you’d care to stop insulting me now, I’ll take you to the vehicle.”
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It was only recently that Juliet’s seemingly perfect life had begun its downward spiral into a horrendous pit of chaos, the dark-haired princess finding herself in the heart of the lonely woods for the first time that summer, but most certainly not the last. Of course, coming from a wealthy family meant a lot of privileges, like designer clothes, and sports cars, and big houses in gated communities, but the dark secrets that ran deep in the veins of her heritage were a stain on all of the glamour, hidden well by the family that had been so meticulous in keeping it all under wraps.
The werewolf gene. Sometimes it skipped a generation, sometimes two… and in this case, nine. Of course, her father, Ivan, was aware of the legends and stories of his family’s past. Not a single child that was born into the Coldwell family was spared the storytelling of the legends of its supposed origins, but he’d never been anything other than skeptical of the silly possibility of such a creature actually existing. It wasn’t until his daughter’s twelfth birthday that he’d noticed that things weren’t quite right, and that the tales could hold some truth. Her pale blue eyes would glow a golden yellow under the light of a full moon, her mind hazy under its effects, and her appetite would curve towards an unnatural lust for blood. Up until the night of her twenty-sixth birthday, that’s all that had come of the effects though…
The thought of turning into a monster had always been something that plagued the back of Juliet’s mind, and after her transformation three months ago, on the night of a full moon, that nightmare had become her reality. She had little memory of what had happened the first time, but she’d been able to piece it all together when she’d woken up completely naked in the alleyway behind an old diner. In front of her, a body lay, its organs all but devoured and the remainder of its parts spilling from the lifeless, mutilated corpse. It wasn’t hard for her to guess that it was her that had done it, as the signs all pointed to her in the form of bloodied-skin and an iron-flavored mouth. She was lucky that she’d managed to slip away through the woods in the back without being caught, otherwise somebody else would have figured it out too.
With the claws of her father already too deep in her flesh and his control over her life too stifling to bear, Juliet could say nothing to him of what had happened. It would remain a secret. The following month, however, it had happened again, this time at a camp ground on the edge of town. Murderous bear returns to camp site: one more dead, the headline had read. Although she had no clear memory of committing the murder, she knew that it had been her that had done it, and the guilt was already eating her alive. Even though she’d locked herself in a cabin that night, it had somehow not been enough to stop her from hunting her prey. It was because of that instance that on the third full moon, Juliet had driven deep into the woods. Deeper than she had ever gone and far away from any camp grounds. If she was to hunt tonight, she would prey on wildlife.
The idea had seemed sound until, while she was stripping the clothes from her body, Juliet had caught a glimpse of a male, standing off to the side. Her heart sank and her breath caught in her chest. “What are you doing here?” She stammered, completely ignoring everything that he’d just said to her as though she hadn’t heard a word of it. Night was falling and the moon would be out soon, which put this man directly in her field of targetable vision, and in deep danger. She could already see the gruesome visual of his mangled body propped up against the trunk of a tree. The thought made her feel nauseous. “You need to leave. Haven’t you heard about all of the bear attacks?” Although some speculated that they were murders, others seemed to think that, due to the nature of the wounds, it was a wild animal.
“I’m fine. My boyfriend is just over there,” she gestured in a random direction, “-with some of my friends. We’re all leaving too.” She paused for only a moment, her shirt still halfway off of her torso and her lacy bra exposed. “Poison ivy. He’s bringing me a new shirt,” she explained, tugging the garment back down. If it weren’t for the panic of the situation, she probably would have been mortified.
@shadowsforstars starter for Juliet
In the background, Felix could hear the chattering and laughter of his friends gradually fading as he walked deeper into the forest. Beneath the night sky, they’d been sitting in a clearing with a fire burning brightly before them as they drank and got high off of weed. Soon, shrooms would be thrown into the mix for whoever wanted it. Felix had spotted them growing in the forest before, and one just had to know where to look for them and be able to properly identify them. He’d informed the small group that he would return with them shortly before wandering off, a bag held in his hands while he searched for the magic mushrooms. In his other hand, he held his phone and turned the flashlight on to enable him to both watch where he was walking and better spot the mushrooms. To ensure he didn’t get lost in the process, he made sure not to stray too far from the path.
A few minutes later, Felix came to a halt when he noticed a silhouette of a woman, illuminated only by the pale moonlight. She was in the process of removing her shirt and if it wasn’t for the fact that Felix didn’t see anyone else around, he wouldn’t have thought anything of it. After all, there were many reasons why people would decide to strip in a forest. Spontaneous sex, skinny dipping in a body of water, doing it on a dare. The list went on. Undressing all alone in the middle of the night, on the other hand, was a little weird and unheard of. Such places were known to be intimidating when the night had fallen, shrouding the area in shadow and turning a beautiful, full forest into a twisted maze. It was rare to see people venturing in on their own. “Hey,” he called out, thus allowing his presence to be known to the woman. The last thing he wanted to do was startle her and cause her to panic, and so he stopped walking when he was a few feet away from her.
“I’m sure you have a legitimate reason for what you’re doing, and it’s chill if you wanna tell me to fuck off and mind my own business, but uh, are you alright?” Felix asked, his gaze once again scanning the area to see if he could spot someone else nearby. From the looks of it, it was just the two of them and whatever harmless wildlife was lurking nearby. “The hell are you doing alone in a forest in the middle of the night?” Even though murders weren’t uncommon here, there’d been news of a slew of especially gruesome deaths that had taken place around town and near the forest on more than one occasion now. It was still heavily under investigation, but lurking around all alone at night wasn’t exactly the wisest idea.
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mechbeaut:
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The shop had been busy that day with vehicles coming in and out constantly. It was minor things, of course. The ones that Rylan felt bored when it came around to fixing them. Tire changes. Oil changes. Anything dull and mundane that drowned out the ticking of the clock. She knows she shouldn’t complain, but she can’t help but want to work on the other cars that sat waiting for their engines or transmissions to be changed out. The dirty work was when she felt good. When she knew she could shine in her field and show those in this shop that she was simply meant to be here, just like they were. If it hadn’t been for her father in the upstairs room, watching them work on the coming and going’s of the vehicles, she’d have left and gone further back to work on another car. There happened to be a very pretty audi that needed a new transmission under it’s hood.
The day had dragged on for what felt like centuries but as the night had come in place of the sun and the cars had dwindled out, Rylan had found comfort in the oncoming silence. The team had slowly started to head home for the night, each ushering a goodbye to her as she lifted the hood on the audi, her crystal blue gaze lighting up as she looked inside of it’s inner workings. There was something so personal about being under the hood of a car and learning it’s secrets and it’s trade. Of knowing that this engine had been the only one to see the places it had travelled. Something about that thought was simply magical. The last to leave had been her father, instructing her to close up shop the way she knew how and telling her not to stay late, as if she was the type to do so. Of course she was. She would rather slave under the hood than be home in a house that felt too small. Too silent for her to take.
A jolt strikes through her spine at the rapping of knuckles against the doorway, causing the small female to jump where she stood, dropping the broom. Despite the fact she wished to work on the audi, she knew she needed to sweep the floor and finish putting away the rest of the tools that had been left out. Rylan hated working in a dirty workshop and this one tended to get messy beyond belief and sometimes she felt as if she was the only one that cared about cleaning it. “Hello?” She questions a little, looking the male over with a slight raise of an eyebrow. She hadn’t been expecting anyone after closing and not this close to midnight either. “We’re closed.” It was just the normal answer when someone showed up past the closing clock, even as she bends down to pick up the broom before moving closer to him as he speaks. Curiosity fills her veins at his request, head tilting ever so slightly to the left when he speaks before she props the broom up against a wall, free hand running through her hair to move it away from her features. “What kind of car are we talking about?” Rylan begins, stopping just a little further away from the door than most would. “Double? Triple the pay? Are you crazy?” She half laughs, knowing she’s the type of person to do most work and take a pay cut when others couldn’t afford it. “Yeah, okay. That’s not weird at all.” She muses a bit under her breath, grabbing a rag from the table top closest to the door to wipe her hands with. “Tell me the car and what’s wrong with it and I might be more inclined to your deal. Though, I won’t say I’m not curious why you want it fixed so quickly.”
Although Salem had tried not to startle the mechanic when he’d made his presence known, it wasn’t as though he’d tried hard. Regardless, he’d thought little of it, as he’d been startling people most of his life, be it on purpose or by accident. It sort of went with the territory of being a spooky black cat. Still, in this case, he wasn’t so willing to scare her off just yet. He needed her assistance, and he’d been careful while making his selection too, as he’d needed to choose someone that wasn’t a talker. Whether it was because she was new to the business or the simple fact that she was a female and therefore overlooked, Salem could tell that most of the other mechanics in the garage hardly paid too much attention to whatever project she was working on. They probably looked at her more like a tantalizing piece of meat rather than a skilled human being, and that would work to his advantage.
The lanky male began to grin as the fiery mechanic began to throw haphazard insults at him, the expression tugging vaguely on one corner of his dual-pierced lips. “Ouch. Crazy? Weird? Do you talk to all of your potential high-paying customers like that, or am I just special?” He asked, his eyebrow still quirked as he watched her movements. Truly, he wasn’t even remotely offended, and if anything, he found it quite comical. Despite the stigma behind females in such a male-dominated workforce, he felt that she fit the bill of shop work pretty well.
Before he’d given her a chance to answer, Salem continued. “You confuse me.” He began, his figure shifting from the leaning position it had taken in the doorway to allow his footsteps to carry him further inside of the building. “You’re talking as though triple the pay isn’t enough to entice you. Picky, aren’t we?” He grinned. “Would the sort of car matter anways? Would you turn down the offer if it was a boring Ford focus?” He moved closer to her, his elbow raising to rest against the Audi that he’d seen her ogling over only moments prior. “Listen, if the details matter so much to you, then I’m happy to find another mechanic. Either you want the money, or you don’t. So?”
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Starter for @mechbeaut
It was rare that Salem ever owned a vehicle, the black-clad shape shifter choosing to travel for free by use of train, or bus, or the odd human’s car that he would sneak into the back of. After all, it was easy for him to do so, as one could get away with a lot when they were able to take the form of a small, inconspicuous feline. He was able to hide just about wherever he pleased, and so the concept of paying for travel just seemed absurd for him to even contemplate. Still, there were the odd occasions now and again that he required the use of such things, and this was one of those times.
It was nearly midnight when he’d made his presence known to the blue-eyed mechanic, the black feline hanging back in the shadows of the shop all day, unknown to everyone that passed him by. He’d waited until everyone had left before he’d exited the shop and re-entered, this time in the flesh of a gothic human male. His tall, lanky figure was wrapped in black garments; a faded ‘Cannibal Corpse’ band tee and a pair of ripped jeans. His long, onyx hair framed a pale face, some of the only skin on his body that hadn’t seen the work of a tattoo needle. The rest of his body was no stranger to the art form, his arms, hands and even his throat covered in various pieces.
Strikingly pale blue eyes, lined in a dark coal, settled on the female as he stood in the doorway, his knuckles knocking slowly against it. “Knock knock,” he announced softly, his voice breaking the silence. It was clear to him that she’d been cleaning up the shop to close for the night, and that was exactly what he’d been waiting for. He needed to be alone with her, as the vehicle that he was going to present to her was certainly not one that was fit for the public eye. He didn’t need people asking questions. “I’ve got a car that needs to be fixed up,” he began, his tattooed fingers sliding into one of his pockets. “I’ll pay you double what you’d regularly charge for the job, and I’ll triple it if you can put it on rush order.” He quirked an eyebrow, his hand sliding back out from his pocket to instead hover in front of his face, his index finger gracing his lips in a hush motion. Clearly, the job was meant to be kept on the down-low.
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yes im always a little sick to my stomach with anger and rage. why do u ask?
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ahaha oh my god noooo don’t pin my wrists above my head haha i won’t be able to move
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