three; [visual/location: some street somewhere in wilde.]

[fordification.livejournal.com]

When all of Taxon becomes dark and the world shifts into another state of being; darker, unwelcoming, Ethan isn't deterred. He feels the chill, the natural human instinct telling him to get back inside to safety - that he's in danger. He doesn't listen to it. Listening to it would be another step into admitting defeat. It would also be smart, and... well.

It frustrates him, though, that the further he walks through the dark and fog, trying to make his way back to his place from some bar, the more unshakeably nervous he's becoming. Anyone could be watching. Anyone. One of those vampires, someone who knows who he is -- one of Them. The guards. Remington. Every sound starts catching his attention, and he tells himself to stop letting it get to him, but it's increasingly difficult. There are movements in the shadows, and he can feel his pace and pulse start to quicken. The irony about the fact that this was the kind of fear he used to invoke does not go unnoticed.

Somewhere in the shifting of his arms, the tablet on his wrist is turned on. That's around the same time that he feels movement behind him and whips around to face it, only to be met with nothing but air. He feels something, though; something near him, and it's putting him on edge. There's sound along with the movement, for him. The distant sound of talking, muddled, indistinct and familiar. Ethan stops, staring down the misty street. "Who's there?"

"Mr. Ford. How nice to see you again."

Is that fear or anger on his face? Both, it seems, as he backs away from who he sees -- thinks he sees. No, sees. A man in a labcoat heading in his direction through the curtain of fog. Ethan can almost make out his smug expression from here. "No. No, no, get the fuck away from me."

Remington - the figure of Remington - whatever it is disregards his words completely. "Finding you was much more tedious than I would have liked. I believe you and I left some work unfinished."

"Get away from me, or I swear to God --"

And it chuckles at him. "God does nothing for monsters, Mr. Ford. Perhaps you should have thought of that."

Ethan turns, and Remington is there, holding a needle at the ready -- he turns again, and Remington is there, laughing -- he turns again, and... it's Clara. At least, he assumes it's her; he can't even remember her face now. And next to her is her -- no, their older brother. Douglas. Just as they looked all those years ago, but almost translucent.

"This isn't real."

"You're human now. Come back to us, Ethan."

"Leave me alone." He hates the way the subtle fear sounds in his voice. Because if there's one thing Ethan fears, it's having to be a vulnerable human and face the past he buried.

"Don't you remember us? Don't you love us? Why won't you remember us?" They're coming closer, looking dead and sad, eyes lifeless but fixated on the person they used to call brother... and Ethan's running out of space to back up.

"You're dead. Your brother is dead." Then why is his voice shaking? "Haunt someone else, you sick fucks."

And all of a sudden they're in front of him, right in front of him, and Ethan can't move or breathe, and they're grabbing hold of him, a sick, twisted kind of embrace -- and then he feels his head hit the wall, sees stars. Everything turns a darker shade of grey, and he slumps against the wall. His head throbs, trying to pull him into unconsciousness.

But they're gone. That's all that matters.

((ooc: La la la la Halloween, la la la backdated like WHOA. Feel free to tag 'er in.))