The Scoop
Background Sketch for my Dark Champions Character, Eirlys Golab: Incident at the Club
I was asked by the GM in our campaign to write a quick background sketch demonstrating an instance of Eiry's vigilante tendencies. This "short short" story was the result.
"Isn't this fun, Eiry?"
Eiry sipped Di Saronno from a brandy snifter and wondered, for what felt like the thousandth time that night, why she had ever let her assistant talk her into going with her to a club named, of all things, Badlands. "It sounds like a Cowboys-and-Indians video game," she muttered under her breath, also for what felt like the thousandth time.
Maggie grinned cheerfully at her, an expression that seemed out of place in the gothy atmosphere of the improbably named club. "Isn't this better than sitting at home all alone, just cleaning your guns?" she asked.
As a matter of fact, it wasn't, but looking into Maggie's huge and heavily lined brown eyes, Eiry hadn't the heart to tell her so. "Sure," she replied, summoning a smile, and hoping Maggie wouldn't notice it was the same smile she wore when greeting politicians and other professional criminals. "I was just dying for an excuse to wear this outfit again," she added. "It'd be such a shame to let it just hang there mouldering in my closet."
Maggie giggled at that, and Eiry tried not to grimace in pain as she took too deep a breath. The truth was that she would have been perfectly happy never to wear this ensemble again, with its steel-boned PVC corset top, matching skin-tight pants, and a pair of boots that looked like they belonged on the villainess in some Champions game. "Goddamn five inch heels," she muttered to herself, and was treated to another giggle from Maggie.
Eiry sighed, and took another sip of her amaretto, a drink she'd chosen because it fit the atmosphere and was best ingested in tiny sips, not for its overly sweet taste. Her head hurt. She had no objections to the music - liked it even - but the thoughts and emotions swirling around her, amplified by the dark atmosphere, were almost more than she could take. A relatively weak telempath, Eiry had never seen the need to shield herself, but right now she wished she knew how. The evening wore on, and so did her headache.
A few minutes after midnight, Eiry was wondering if she'd begun to go mad. The trance music had changed to something with a pounding beat, and very faintly, in counterrythm to the music, a woman's voice was screaming, "Help me! God, help me!"
"What an unusual vocal," she mumured out loud. Maggie gave her a look like she was crazy, and it was then that Eiry realized that the woman's faint screaming was inside her head.
Eiry slowly exhaled, concentrating on the voice while scanning the crowd carefully, just long enough to determine that the screamer was not within the club. Then she handed Maggie her unfinished drink with an apologetic smile. "I've got to run to the little goths' room," she said ruefully. "I just hope I can get back into these pants."
Maggie giggled. "Want help?" she offered, her voice sounding hopeful.
"Help is the last thing I need," Eiry told her, and without another word she turned and stalked in the direction of the ladies' room.
A moment later she was gliding silently along the alley in back of the club, concentrating on the source of the screaming and cursing her high heeled boots and lack of available weapons. The only thing she'd brought with her, a tiny blade concealed in a lipstick tube, was sitting in her purse back on top of the bar, forgotten in her headache and urgency.
There was no one in the alley, but the screaming continued, and Eiry emerged in the club's parking lot. Staying on the balls of her feet, she managed to move silently through several rows of parked cars. As the screaming inside her head became unbearable, Eiry heard a rough panting sound, and stepping around the end of a row, she found the source.
The woman was bent over the hood of a black Mustang, her black patent leather skirt hiked to her waist. The only noise she was making was a soft whimpering, and Eiry realized it was because her mouth was sealed with duct tape. A bit of black lace was stuck to the tape, and Eiry guessed the woman's mouth was filled with her own panties.
The man standing in back of her was tall and long-haired, and Eiry noticed immediately that his pants weren't undone. What he was shoving between the woman's legs wasn't his penis but his hand, the fingers curled into a fist. Blood was dripping down the woman's thighs. Eiry thought her head would explode from the force of the woman's silent screaming.
"Step away from that woman, sir," she commanded. In her ears her voice sounded high and weak. The man whipped his head around, took her in with a glance, and grinned.
"Sure," he said, and took a step back and sideways, so that he was facing Eiry. "I'm just giving my girlfriend what she wants," he added. "She likes it like this."
"She's not your girlfriend, and she doesn't like it," said Eiry, her voice stronger now. "Get away from her." Below her breastbone she could feel a red rage building.
"Why should I?" the man asked. "Are you jealous, sweetie? Do you wanna be next?" Insolently, he licked the woman's blood from his knuckles.
"For the last time, get away from her," Eiry commanded, her blood singing in her ears. The woman, who had been staring at both of them, shut her eyes and gave a soft whimper of despair. The man laughed and took two steps toward Eiry.
In answer, she stepped forward, her right hand moving in a blur. She felt the crunch as her fingertips came in contact with the man's trachea; he dropped like a rock. Eiry glanced at the woman, said "Get the hell out of here and get yourself to a doctor," took two steps backward, and spun around. She walked away as quickly as she could, away from the club, away from the parking lot, and away from the man on the ground.
Back at her house, she thought to call Maggie's cell phone. "I got sick and had the bouncer call me a cab," she lied. "Can you just get my bag and give it to me tomorrow? I'm going to go to bed."
"Sure," said Maggie. "Take care of you." She asked no questions; she never did. Gratefully, Eiry climbed the stairs and got into her bed.
But she didn't sleep. She still heard the screaming in her head, but this time the voice was Sarah's, and as always when she heard Sarah's voice, she knew that as many women as she rescued, it would never be enough.