More GMing stuff.


It's taken some brain-wracking. In some ways Alesia's old life seems a very long time ago, and perhaps like it happened to a different person. But Alesia recalls being told by a friend about a girl, sort of an acquaintance, who mentioned some kind of familial abuse. Even better, she can remember where the girl in question, called Jane, lived, not far from Alesia's old house.
Alesia has gathered a sharp long knife, and has it tucked away out of view so as not to draw unwanted attention. She left her spear back on the bawn, as there's no way to bring that long without attracting way too much attention. She is going in glabro from the start, so there's no one to see her change, hoping she can pass without drawing undo attention by looking like she knows what she's doing. She makes her way quickly towards that house. She is doing a good 'casual' bit, seeking to get to the house without obstruction.
The Glabro does get a few strange looks, and people cross over the road to avoid Alesia perhaps sightly more than they do normally. The house itself is quiet, a normal house in a row of basically identical houses. There's a worn station wagon outside, and an abandoned tricycle in the front yard."
Alesia glances around casually then moves to cut back behind the house if it looks clear, her goal to stay low and get to a spot where she can peek in the back windows, figure out who is where and what's going on inside the house. Caution is the word of the moment as she's doing her best not to be spotted.
There are lights, inside, and the sound of the television. It all seems quite well ordered and normal. When Alesia gets close enough to see through the windows, she'll see a man, perhaps in his early forties, sprawled on a worn couch in front of what appears to be an Ice Hockey game. There's no sign of any children, though there is a small pile of toys - a doll, some kind of pink plastic house, a horse - shoved into a corner. The remains of a meal are on a tray on the couch next to the man, and a can of beer is dangling from his fingers.
Time passes, perhaps an hour. Alesia is crouched behind a bush, from which she can just about make out what's happening in the house. Which for the most part, is nothing. Eventually, though, the man stands up, and walks out of the lounge into the hallway, out of Alesia's sight.
Alesia tries to slip along the building, trying to see where the man has gone, and if that fails, she'll try to figure out which rooms are occupied on the second floor by the lights and if there is a way up on the outside or not. All the while the most important goal she has is not being seen.
Two windows at the rear are lit, but it's not possible to get a good angle to see in, though Alesia can make out the wallpaper in both, and one looks distinctly more childish than the other. The only conceivable way up the outside is a drainpipe, also on the rear of the house.
Today is Alesia's lucky day. The back door is unlocked, and the handle turns and the door opens. Some people are so lax about security. From within, there are the sounds of voices from upstairs. Raised voices. Though it's difficult to tell what they're saying. One sounds female, the other male and older.
Alesia slips inwards, looking around the kitchen, assuming that's the room she entered from the back, and double checks there is no one here in the room with here or on this floor. Once that's confirmed, she'll try to find a drawer with black trash bags, almost every house seems to have them, her goal to use one as a 'rain' poncho, for the blood that is bound to result from her actions, and stick several spare in her pocket for after, and once that's done, hopefully quickly, she'll make her way towards the stairs, ears straining to hear any words.
A black sack can be found quite easily and a rain poncho is fashioned, though it doesn't cover quite as much as Alesia hoped, due to the face that she's in Glabro. Upstairs, the argument is a little more intelligable. It appears to be about bed times, and not staying up late, though the precise circumstances are unclear.
Alesia sticks those bags in her pocket once she's 'covered' as much as she can hope for and tiptoes to the base of the stairs, light footed enough to sneak up on a deer and hopefully enough to avoid squeaky floor boards or random toys. Depending on how the stairs are situated she'll either wait at the bottom or creep up a bit, if she thinks she can get away with it without being seen.
The passage to the foot of the stairs is navigated easily enough, though the stairs themselves look distinctly creaksome. Up above, the argument has changed into a one-sided litany, by the male, about how dreadful whoever it is he's shouting at is. The usual sort of stuff. The word ungrateful appears repeatedly.
Alesia waits at the base of the stairs, trying to catch each word, waiting for signs of more than just an irritated father verbally chastising his daughter, looking for something more... concrete before she acts.
Eventually, it comes. The shouting stops, and there's the sound of a blow. It echoes through the house like a rifle-shot, somehow trailing a silence behind it.
Alesia nods to herself quietly and instead of rushing up the stairs she slips to the front door, and knocks loudly on it from the inside, then slips back so that when the man comes to investigate she can surprise him from behind, he goal to surprise him utterly, and away from the girl.
"Stay in there until I say you can come out!" The man shouts again, slamming the door upstairs behind him. His feet sound on the staircase and then he walks towards the front door. The smell of alcohol, mixed with poor hygiene, washes through the air. He's of average height, just under six feet, dressed in a stained t-shirt and jeans. He's unshaved, but not unhandsome or particularly overweight. He reaches the door and lifts his hand to open it.
Alesia slips up behind the man, using rage to move with supernatural speed, to draw that very sharp knife across his throat with one hand while pulling him back from the door so he can't open it and hold him with the other. The focus is more on the neck strike, an attempt to slice hard and clean across the neck, from one side, across the throat and to the other, letting the blood spray on the inside of the door if she does it right and preventing a cry for help is she can manage it.
Reaching him, fine, grabbing him, fine. The attempt to slice his throat, though, is only marginally successful. The knife slides across his skin, cutting in, but not sufficient. "What the fuck?" he yells, trying to turn towards his attacker.
Alesia relies on the father's warning to stay in unless he says otherwise to keep the girl in her room, as she tries to cut the man's throat again, this being the most important thing now, cutting off his yelling as quickly as possible, herself remaining absolutely silent as she struggles to drive that blade home into his neck.
This time, with some assistance as to angle of blade, the knife slides in and through much easier, and this time the predicted spray of blood flies out, though because of the turn, it sprays all over the floor, rather than neatly onto the wall. The man falls to his knees, clutching at his throat, and then to the floor, into the quickly-forming pool of blood collecting there.
Alesia doesn't pause, not willing to waste time she follows up, using the sharp knife and strong arms to complete the process, likely to get her hands very bloodly she severs the head and then holds it by the hair, letting the majority of the blood drain before placing it in one of the black trash bags she gathered from the kitchen, and then double, triple bags it, sealing each bag in turn so that no blood will leak and it looks like just a round object in a black bag. Once that's done she'll head back quietly to the kitchen, discard her 'poncho' and clean off her hands and knife with some paper towels. Doing all of this as quickly as she can without making too much noise.
Sawing a head off is rather more tricky than it appears, though the advice Alesia gets makes it a little easier than it might otherwise have been. However, getting through the spinal column is still hard. Just as the head is sealed in it's bag, before Alesia can go back to the kitchen, the word that Alesia was surely hoping not to hear gets said. "Daddy?" It's a young girl's voice - very young - coming from the top of the stairs.
Alesia uses her gruffest voice, trying to sound masculine, hopefully something a bit easier in Glabro, trying to imitate the father's voice, more yelling because that should make it easier to mimic the voice, since hopefully one yelling voice is much like another. "Get the fuck back in your room!" She says as she hurries, trying to complete the task at hand faster.
"Daddy?" comes again, and there are light footsteps on the stairs. A girl...perhaps six years old, is standing there, dressed in pyjamas, cuddling a large bear. She's looking straight at Alesia. "What are you doing?" she asks, curiously. "Where's my Daddy?" As yet, for some unfathomable reason, she hasn't noticed the headless body lying on the floor.
You paged the room with 'a large *stuffed* bear. Not like...a real bear. That would be surreal.'.
Alesia turns to the girl, and says, "Go back upstairs, now. He'll be up soon. Go... or he'll get mad!" She says, trying to scare the child back up the stairs, trying to use her body to hide what she can from view from the girl.
"My Daddy never gets mad with me," the girl replies, in the kind of princessy voice that some six-year-old girls seem to have naturally. "He only gets mad with Jane because she's an ungrateful bitch. Why are you so ugly?"
Alesia nods to the little girl, "Well, you're probably a good girl, but right now to be a good girl you need to go back upstairs. If you don't go back upstairs, you might end up ugly like me!" She's trying to shield sight of the body from the girl, and doing whatever she can to convice the girl to go back upstairs.
"And my Daddy will come up and read me a story." The girl turns to go up the stairs. "If he doesn't it'll all be Jane's fault." She doesn't look back, fortunately, and her footsteps go into one of the rooms at the front of the house.
Alesia gives a small sigh of relief once the girl is back up the stairs, then leaving the body but toting her bag, she heads to the kitchen to clean up and discard her 'black bag poncho'. She'll do this as fast as she can without tripping or causing undo noise.
No undue noise. The blood seems to get everywhere, though, and there are more than a few traces on Alesia's clothes. No honking great blood patches, though, so that's good.
Alesia wipes the blade down, discards the paper towels and what not into the trash then heads for the back door. She pauses at the phone, then lifts it up out of its cradle to see if anyone is on the phone. If not, she dials 911, then gently sets the phone on the counter as she hurries out the back door. Once outside she'll glance around the darkness, to make sure no one can see her before progressing.
No one is in sight, and this is the kind of neighbourhood where people don't pay too much attention to other people's business. It looks like Alesia's escape is going to be fairly straightforward.
Alesia closes the door behind herself quietly then hurrying she shifts down to homid, and searches for the first bike she can swipe with a basket or carrier, to store the head and start her treck back, trying to get away before the notoriously slow police arrive.
Alesia rides in the night, back towards the bawn and woods, using back roads to avoid traffic.