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Carpe Noctem

She does not understand, but what was I to expect from someone who untied the kind of filth I was dealing with. She has to know I can finish this without the gun or how easy it would be for me to shift aim and fire before she can move. After all it is what I do. Already my mind is a whirl. The chair is behind her and I am already on my knee... simple heal kick would knock her back and give me plenty of time to finish my work. Might as well tell her why before I do what I have to though, the frail always seem to need to be given a reason... it may be part of why so few act when it is needed, "No point? He is scum, he is guilty, and left to his own devices he will do it all again." In the end I decide against kicking her, she has had a rough night and it could crack her ribs. Instead I lash my foot out and pull the chair across the floor in an attempt to take her legs out from under her and drop her into its seat even as I hear a familiar voice.

I have not spoken to Daniel in what seems like ages. He is softer than I am and some of what I do would not be to his liking. Like the man burnt alive earlier or the broken neck and hanging on my way into this room. He would no doubt call my tactics excessive... I call them efficient. I take my feet not waiting for the young woman's response and I pivot the long barreled pistol back to its owners head once more the hammer still drawn as I speak, "Been a while... she thought I should not finish what I started... guess she did not realize I hardly need this filth's popgun to do the job." I know he will try to stop me, he always was what many called the voice of reason between us. Daniel is a good man though and even now I know his cry was most likely not just about the gun aimed at the girl. He was probably afraid I had slipped like some people say, that just maybe I really had gone over the deep end. I have not though... I just no longer see a reason to wait on a corrupt and broken system to do the job I can do here and now.

My head tilts a bit, both listening to the breathing of Daniel and the girl and making sure I did not miss anyone on the boat. But I didn't and it is just the three of us in this dark grimy derelict fishing boat. I will hear about what I did from him later I am sure. He is as sharp as they come after all so there is no chance he missed the body hanging outside, me may even have saw the signs of a scuffle outside the boat. The news will report on the other two by morning as well. They will call me a monster and a madman while comparing me to the filth I deal with. I am used to it though. They simply do not understand... either that or the lack the moral fiber and compass to do what they should. I know he won't let me simply kill the scumbag though so I say as much, "I am guessing you think I should leave what is left of this scum for the police?"

✖ ✖ ✖ Teyha Hiba Lockra ✖ ✖ ✖





How many times had she imagined her own rescue? The jubilation of knowing it was finally and undeniably over? She fantasized about it for years before she finally learned that her world just wasn’t worth saving. There were no heroes in North Carolina, neither masked nor uniformed. Now she found herself before one of the few heroes in the world, and she could only stand against him, the naïve girl who believes she knows the world better than him. She faltered for a moment, her eyes wide and locked on where his should be in question, trying to decide who was right.

She trembled, shaking so violently she almost lost grip on the gun before the mask even moved. Flinching she drew back, fully expecting to feel him strike her, to push her violently away so he could finish what he began. To her surprise she fell heavily into a chair, and looked up again at the mask, startled. “Please.” She begged softly, her almost soundless voice drown by a far louder protest, and Teyha turned towards it, disbelieving. “Nite Owl?” She questioned, growing more and more surprised by the second. How good was her luck tonight? Or, rather, how poor was it? She finally met two of the only men willing to change this world, and it was like this, with her the helpless and timid victim.

Oddly it was Rorschach’s voice that pulled Teyha from her thoughts, and she looked up at the man, scooting forward some but not quite leaving the chair. “There is a point.” She insisted gently. “His bones are shattered, he can’t ever fire a gun again, and he is traumatized, I don’t think he’ll go back to this life.” Her voice softened further, comforting though she was the one of the three who needed that the most. “Humans are the only beings who –can- learn for past struggles, who can grow and change their ways. We deserve that chance; otherwise who are you fighting for? Show some mercy, please.”

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((Yes XD Teyha is obnoxiously naïve. DX ))

She does not understand, the young seldom do though. I wonder if I was ever that naive but realize quickly that there is no chance that I ever was. I started in the gutters when it comes down to it and so I know this kind of filth better than most ever will. My mind is like an iron trap as it takes in every detail of the man laying unconscious at my feet. His manged hand the work or his own pistol and my grapple gun, most of the fingers are broken in at least one place but even mangled as it is I can see the dark blue tattoo on his flesh... a prison tattoo. A look up to his face, battered as it is from where I slammed him into the floor, reveals a similar marking on his cheek and neck. I shake my head a bit before I finally speak to the naive young woman again, "He has had chances... they all have. They did not come this far without a chance to walk away."

I don't know why I bother. She is not going to listen and with Daniel here odds are that he will be turned over to the police anyway. The others were petty thugs though and were unarmed. Only the boss man was a career scumbag. He is the one that would have pulled the trigger... and he still has one hand left. I shift my aim to the side and fire a single shot, the sound echoes through the small room followed by his scream. His left hand is shattered now, bullet passed right through the center of it. I toss the gun on the ground and shove my hands back into my pockets, "But fine... I'll compromise... now he is alive and he will never fire a gun again."

It is not how I would have preferred to end it. But I have taken his tools and if he and I cross paths again he will have no more excuses. Not even the bleeding hearts will be able to claim he has not had a chance at redemption. If I see this piece of filth again making trouble in the streets of my city it will be the last time I or anyone else sees him besides whatever poor soul is stuck in the coroners office that morning. I don't look to the young woman, I already know what I will see there. The disapproval and disgust so common to those who still think these chronic piles of filth can be saved. He has his chance to prove me wrong now but somehow I know we will meet again. I am curious as to what has brought Daniel so far out tonight, was it my handiwork he followed or simply random chance that caused us to cross paths. My hands still in my pockets warm and comfortable I turn to the only man I ever worked with, "How have you been?"

✖ ✖ ✖ Teyha Hiba Lockra ✖ ✖ ✖


‘He’s going to die,’ Teyha considered with a growing feeling of nausea. She was going to sit helplessly and watch someone’s life end, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Rorschach’s finger tightened on the trigger, and Teyha winced, looking away when the shot rang clear through the air, followed by a long and agonizing cry of pain. Dead men don’t scream.

She turned towards the man, who was writhing on the ground, a bullet placed squarely in the center of his other hand. Rorschach never compromises, she heard once. In the face of death he would stand resolute, unfaltering. So why did he compromise now? She couldn’t understand it, but that was not the pressing concern now. She moved so fast the chair toppled over, grabbing her bag of medical supplies to kneel at the side of the man who was about to end her life a few minutes earlier. “It’ll be okay.” She whispered to comfort him; dumping three of the pills she used to sedate his men before, and urged them between his teeth, washing them down with the drink she planned to use for her own dinner. “Sleep.” She told him firmly, but was already reaching for his bleeding hand. It was always best to set bones early, and a bullet wound had to be treated either way. With any luck she’d be able to stop an infection, and he might have some use of his hands, not enough to hold a gun again, but to function in society she hoped. “Thank you.” She said as she worked, looking up to smile at the strangely masked man. “I’m glad you didn’t kill him.”
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She thinks I did it out of some sense of sympathy for the filth. She could not be farther from the truth. Daniel no doubt knows what just happened all to well... I said it was compromise but it wasn't. All it really was is a delay. The scum can not handle a gun so he can not continue as he was. Inmates will see him as weak and vulnerable so he will either make himself useful proving himself the scum I see him as and next time we meet I will string him up and gut him like a fish... or he will die in prison. A few months does not matter in the end though because justice will be served one way or the other.

I am guessing she has not seen this side of things for long. No the wide eyed look of shock and awe when she saw me and Daniel makes that much obvious. Her posture suggests the blood makes her uncomfortable... no it is not the blood, it is the injuries and the brutality of it all. The way she looks at Daniel... admiration, a hero fixation maybe. He always did inspire people though. Me personally I never cared about any of that. Let Ozy sell his toys and Comedian fight his wars while Manhattan solves the riddles of the universe and Daniel fights the good fight... as always I will hold the line in the dark dingy places no matter what it takes. If she stays here she will no doubt find her own place and own reasons but that does not matter. I could waste time figuring out other so called 'masks' but it would not solve anything.

My purpose, my mission will always be the same. I will deal with the scum and the filth as is necessary and as so few seem able or willing to do. This city is overflowing with filth and if it is not cleaned of the scum that flood the street then it will overflow. More people might help to curb the tide but until they were willing to stick a rock in that damn revolving door or do things the way I do the problem will not get solved. Scum like them only understand fear... and these days they fear me. Not because I will send them to prison or give them slap on the wrist. No they fear me because they know I will not hesitate and if they are on the wrong side of things I will give them what they deserve. I do not look at the naive girl or even Daniel, "I am sure he will get his just rewards."

_________________
Carpe Noctem

✖ ✖ ✖ Teyha Hiba Lockra ✖ ✖ ✖






As soft hearted as Teyha could be, even she couldn’t ignore that this man had tried to kill her only minutes before. He looked helpless now, with two ruined hands, cowering in the filth of the docks with his hands cradled against his stomach. “Let me see.” Teyha said, sliding easily from ‘child’ to ‘doctor’. Her voice held no room for argument, and she reached out, taking the hand firmly in her own. “Don’t you make a fool of me.” She told him, checking the condition of the wound. A clean bullet wound, the hospital could handle this far better than she could, so she simply stopped the bleeding and bound it. It was the broken hand that posed more of a problem. Straightening the bones was an agonizing process, and the only medicine she had on hand were the handful of pills she gathered in her work.

Perfect.

‘Well he tried to kill me!’ She told herself firmly as she took his hand in hers. “This will hurt.” She warned, and with a tug and a crack she began the tedious work of setting each bone. Oh and he hated it, pulling back as though to escape her grip, but she worked without apology, neither liking nor disliking the pain he was in. Again, he tried to kill her, and she begged for his life in return. As far as she saw it he owed her twice for her mercy.

~~

It took a good ten minutes for Teyha to be satisfied with her work, and the criminal scooted back away from her when she was. Uncaring she shoved her supplies back into her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. She moved forward in almost a skip, trying to avoid the splatters of blood that now decorated the floor. Once in the safety of the clean floor she looked up at the heroes. First Rorschach the man who found, who stopped the thug from emptying his gun in her frail body. “Thank you, Mr. Rorschach.” She told him somewhat awkwardly, unsure exactly how to thank a man as cold as him. Most likely by not smothering him, she considered after a moment, and only offered one last smile at the man before she faced Nite Owl.

He was taller than she imagined him. He towered over her, making her feel smaller and more insecure then ever in his presence. Her idol, someone who she often looked to when she was scared or alone… What could she say to him now? That she looked up to him? That she supported him? Oh God no! She was already a victim that night, a child who is all too naïve that he needs to protect. To add on a level of ‘hero worship’ would set her in her own category of pathetic. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” She said at last, falling back behind the professional mask she used around her patients. Her eyes dropped to the floor and she shifted briefly, shuffling towards the exit nervously before she managed to turn, and set off to put as much distance between her and the boat as possible without actually breaking out in a run. She’d humiliated herself enough for one day.

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She thanks me and I am honestly not sure why. I dealt with the scum as I always did and truth be told the leader of the filth would have been better off if I had put a bullet between his eyes rather than through his hand. He was a cripple now, a victim... he was prey. Scum like this were no better than animals and so to them he was no better now than she was when they brought her in and bound her at gunpoint. I suppose she could be thanking me for saving her. I shrug a bit and watch as she bandages the mans hands.... two fingers right hand completely shattered, one broken, thumb broken or dislocated... left hand shattered from the center by gunshot, a clean pass, may have taken some bone with it... yeah he is prey at this point and not much else.

I look up to Daniel my hands still in my pocket as he talks about contacting the authorities. I fish out a piece of paper and fashion a simple note reading 'already bagged for you, just gets this trash off the docks.' then a blot of ink on one side before I fold the paper and toss it on the chair. I shrug a bit to no one in particular simply assuming Daniel means the young woman when he says to finish up... after all my work as done though two of the scumbags got off lucky with only broken bones and nothing life changing. I do manage a bit of a response, "I am guessing you mean here, my work here seems to be done..."

He wears goggles so most would say he is hard to read but the lines around his mouth say it all. He seems worried but he probably wont say anything to me about it. Been a year or so since I left... a year since I burnt Grives alive and watched him die. I doubt he would understand why I did it, why it had to be done. To many of the filth slip through the cracks or dance to the tune of technicalities. They have to answer for their crimes, they have to pay for what they have done. People want to tell themselves it is ok and delude themselves into thinking the system is good enough as it is. I am not so blind. I think deep down he might understand but the flaws in the system and in the way society deals with this scum. But I do not think Dan could bring himself to do what I do.

I walk quietly towards the door, there may yet be work to be done tonight.

Ernestine Friedmann
“Evil is just a point of view” - Anne Rice.



Ran she did, hopping from celling to celling. She was eager to find the van's location. Knowing the masked M.O. the possibility of the corpses of the thugs having anything of value has quite high, enough to take the risk. Unfortunately, her leads were hitting an end, and the search of a possible cargo was fadding away. A few streets away from the docks, she would climb onto a water tower and sit, frustrated on her failure. Living like a scavenger was not the best of ideas, but someone's money would not be needed in the afterlife. Ernestine leaned into her knees, and began to listen to nothing but the breeze. "Bet Mr. Troubled Hero has already kill them off..." she sighed.

The blade would manifest behind her, remindering her that without mone, one could not possibly make it in the gambling business. Whether the weapon was mentioning an undeniable truth or just teasing her, Ernestine decided not to listen to it - for it had been quite a bad companion that night. "I'll find those wallets; just to shove them to your face!" she complained as she stood up on her toes, looking for any sign that would guide her towards the thugs' money.

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Carpe Noctem

The Raccoon

Johnny sat on the edge of the bed completely nude.
His mind burning to life, his eyes were dry, and they stung like hell.
He eye'd the empty bottle of vodka on the nightstand.
He looked the hotel room over a few times, never moving from his spot on the bed.

"Aw hell..." he managed to whisper in a raspy voice.

"Hmm? Johnny... c'mon back to bed, its too early to wake up in this city in a motel like this."
A slender woman curled up in the blankets on the bed behind Johnny pleaded playfully with him.

"Its always too early in a city like this."
He said expressionless.

"Anna... where are my pants?"

"I don't know Johnny, all i found was this..."
Anna giggled as she held up a domino mask and waved it playfully around on her finger.

Johnny took it from her and put it on.

"With that wild black hair and those muscles.. mmm... and that mask... you look like that guy, you know from the comics?"
She sat behind him on the bed and massaged his shoulders.

"The Spirit."

"Yes, him. You are mysterious like him too, you're very dark with all those guns and knives."

"Well Anna... I fight crime and kick ass just so you'd get turned on by me. Isn't that flattering?"
She rested her head on his shoulder
"Vaguely..."

Anna got off the bed, and opened the blinds.
"Goddamn it woman! Respect my goddamn hangover!"
Johnny winced as the blinding light from the window filled the room, and caused him to cover his eyes.

A loud knock on the door interrupted his complaining.
Johnny staggered to the door and opened it.
"I'm busy being hungover, all the vodka is gone so i can't have the luxury of further irresponsibility and you're interrupting me bitching about my headache... what could possibly be so important you had to bother me in the middle of all of that?"

The thin and wiry man in a bowler hat stood at the doorway smiling at Johnny.
"Boss says hi."
The man immediately pulled a handgun and pointed it at Johnny's face.
"Damn it."
Johnny said as he rolled his eyes.
In a quick blur of sudden motion Johnny threw a series of punches that landed in a flurry of pain and style. The man dropped the gun into Johnny's hands as he hung in an awkward stance, paralyzed in pain.
"Get him... ow."
The man managed to whisper.
Three more men rushed Johnny, guns drawn.
Without delay Johnny leaped back, tackling Anna off the bed and using the other side as cover as gunfire rang through the air.
After several long seconds, the three men had to reload. Johnny quickly grabbed a chair, and swung it at the first man, the chair broke apart violently as it collided with the man which caused him to drop his gun and stumble into the second man who hit his head on the corner of the dresser while falling to the floor. Johnny grabbed the last man, who was shocked at how quickly his partners were disabled. He dragged him over to the window and smashed his face into the glass which shattered immediately.
"Where the hell are my pants?!?!"
Johnny screamed in an irritated tone. Anna sat on the floor, stunned at quick the carnage unfolded, and how quick it was over.
"Don't wait up for me hun."
Johnny winked at her from behind his dramatic domino mask as he stood in the doorway, ready to make a theatrical exit.
He managed to find a towel and wrapped it around his waist.

She smiled as he dissapeared from view, running down the hallway in nothing but a domino mask and a towel.

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I'll be right back. I gotta go see a man about a mule.

The girl had left but Daniel stayed. Likely wonders about why I left, why I changed, why I do these things. I never told him about the filth who took the girl. Never told him how I cuffed him to the furnace and set the house ablaze. Or How I waited outside just in case he had the spine to cut his own hand off to try and escape... he had not, had burnt alive in the inferno of that old dress shop. Most call me mad, most think I am no different than the filth I deal with every night but Daniel does not seem to agree. The nest... warehouse a few blocks from his home has an entrance, old tunnels run to what used to be basement of the brownstone, would be easy to slip in unseen. He knows all of that though since it is how I used to slip in unseen when we were partners. Easier to use the back door to the brownstone though, simple lock to pick or kick in.

In the end I know it is unlikely I will visit but the offer is what matters. I nod my head to him a bit and can feel my face shifting just a bit. Can't be easy to be my friend when most masks think I am a loose cannon... they are all soft though. Squeamish and scared to cross the line when needed, content with the revolving door that spits filthy scum back out onto the street or the cracks they happily slip through with dirty smiles. I would call them jealous but that would imply they knew how soft they were and they simply don't. Dan at least will let me do what I must without treating me like a mad man. I know I should answer and so after a moment I speak, "Thanks... no promises though on either. Business can get messy."

Johnny sat on the edge of the rooftop wearing full armor eyeing the citizens below.
his mind raced with ideas and questions.
he knew of masks like Nite Owl and Rorschach...
Rorschach. There was a peculiar mask, so diven... so determined, definitely uncompromising. He respected that.
Ever since he was a child, all he heard of his father were terrible things, his mother grew to despise him with a passion.
He needed to know more about the kind of man his father is.
If there were better examples of heroes than Nite Owl and Rorschach, they weren't showing their faces.
Johnny silently decided to seek out the duo. After all... they knew more about his father than he did...
they knew more about the Comedian.

_________________
My Blog of Movie Reviews and Such

I'll be right back. I gotta go see a man about a mule.

✖ ✖ ✖ Teyha Hiba Lockra ✖ ✖ ✖



Teyha soon found that walking after such a terrifying ordeal was far more of a challenge than she had anticipated. Her knees shook terribly, and the girl was only grateful that the loose fit of her dark jeans effectively hid any trembling that might humiliate her before her heroes. Her saving grace was that she didn’t think to look above her, didn’t see the man hanging by that chain, his neck clearly broken. Instead she rushed outside without seeing much of anything.

She made her way outside, spinning and trying to understand where in the city she was. The docks, she knew, but where was that in relation to where she was? It was easy enough for her to lose her way in this city without being dragged by her ears clear across town and left without so much as directions on how to go back to where she felt safe. She couldn’t very well go back and talk to either hero about how to get where she had been, not only did she not want them to feel like she was a burden, but it ran the very real risk that they would realize that something was wrong. No no, she was lucky already that no one had placed her face as a runaway, and would not stress her luck any further.

“I wont do anything THAT dangerous again.” She said aloud, hitching her backpack more securely onto her shoulder. The way she was doing things was clearly not safe. Softhearted or not she wasn’t known for acts of stupidity very often… Much less for repeating acts of stupidity!

She reached onto her pocket and pulled out what was left of her money. Nearly twenty five dollars, but she knew at least a few people in the city who would be able to get her what she needed for less than that… She glanced into one of her shopping bags, badly trampled and abused in the attack. Most of her favorite treats were crushed beyond any recognition, and looked…. Less than appetizing. It’d have to do. Pulling one of the less flattened sweetcakes out the carefully set to unwrapping it and made her way back into the city, looking for any landmark that gave her an indication of where to go.


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Johnny had been all over the city that night, waiting for either Nite Owl or Rorschach to appear at the scene of some crime. No such luck.He stood on the roof and looked around, he could see the docks from where he was.
He began to doubt he'd see them tonight. He looked at the oblivious pedestrians below, shuffling to and fro.
He noticed someone, a young girl, short black hair, she looked... lost or confused.
The girl kept looking around, and avoiding eye contact.
To other pedestrians it might've looked 'normal' for a teenage girl to walk the city alone, but from the rooftops, it looked anythin but .Johnny decided to follow her.
It was a pretty crazy hunch, but it looked like she might need help.
"I'll follow her a few blocks, make sure shes okay...." he thought to himself.

_________________
My Blog of Movie Reviews and Such

I'll be right back. I gotta go see a man about a mule.

✖ ✖ ✖ Teyha Hiba Lockra ✖ ✖ ✖



The young girl was completely unaware that she was being watched, though she should realize how terribly she stood out of place. It was already evening when she found the men in the alleyway, nearly an hour that she was in the docks… Now it was near pitch out, and in the worst part of town where very few stayed out late. Those who did she ducked her head away from, and silently prayed they wouldn’t see the blood splattered across her clothes from that day and its many misadventures.

She had to resist the urge to wipe at her face and risk smearing a crimson streak right across her cheek. Stubbornly she shoved her hands into her pockets instead and trudged blindly forward. Initially she’s hoped to be able to make it to a park to rest, preferring the more country feel to it than any alleyway or corridor… But it didn’t take going very far for her to realize that just wasn’t plausible. She could walk the night through and never find a park in this part of town.

Better to rest for the night and meet her contacts come morning. And with that in mind she stopped between two tall buildings, deciding here was as good as any. At the very least it was empty, and that was good enough for her. She found herself a dry spot hidden by a largely unused and surprisingly stink-free dumpster and set down her bag, not even bothering to pull out her thin blanket. She didn’t want everything she owned to get covered in filth after all. Come morning she’d change and find a laundry mat to wash her things, homeless she was, disgusting she was not and she could always find a dollar to keep her clothes clean and a sink to help wash herself.

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Johnny saw the young girl to safety as she hid from the nocturnal malevolence of this part of the city.
Still, muggers, rapists, and psychos are almost always unexpected.
He couldn't live with himself if he saw her make pg.8 in tomorrow's paper, headlined "YOUNG GIRL SLAIN IN ALLEY"
he decided to stay up on the rooftop where he had a good view of where she was sleeping until morning.
He let out a long heavy sigh as he remembered his teenage years...
'dad' was a no-show and a loser, even if he was 'THE COMEDIAN'...
mom was rich yet always in deep depression. Wealth never brought him or anyone he knew any happiness.
The only time he felt happy was when he could help someone less fortunate.
He stopped reminiscing as the memories became thicker with pain and sorrow.

"Has this city ever had mercy on its young?" he wondered as he idly pondered what her life was like.

the more he pondered her life and how she came to be where she is, sleeping in a dumpster,
he realized he already knew the answer to his question...

"No..."

_________________
My Blog of Movie Reviews and Such

I'll be right back. I gotta go see a man about a mule.

✖ ✖ ✖ Teyha Hiba Lockra ✖ ✖ ✖



How Teyha came to live on the streets was, in her opinion, far more traumatic than sleeping with her cheek pressed to the cool side of dumpster. Two parents in law enforcement believed they would be able to spot her brother’s sadistic qualities, and then it came time to chose her word over his, she became the liar, the insane one. Two years trying to protect herself not only from him but from her parents themselves…. Bah! She was better on the streets. It didn’t make the cold night any more tolerable, but at least she had no regrets about it.

~~

Come morning Teyha was drained, and decided next time she would seek out that park, rather than settling for a not-so-cozy sleeping spot beside a dumpster. Her body felt wound tight, strained, weak from a bad night of sleep. She rubbed her eyes with the clean part of her wrists and stood to inspect the now-visible damage on her clothes. “Yuck!” She declared with a wrinkle of her nose. Damn those thugs, she always washed between jobs. It wasn’t just her pride, it was pure hygiene! She didn’t want to know diseases they carried, what was splashed against her now.

Still disgusted the girl pushed herself up, and peeked out from the side of the dumpster to the city outside…. In all not many people crossed in front of the alley, maybe because it was still early, or maybe because this just wasn’t a very busy part of town. Whatever the reason though she was relieved, and grabbed her back once more.

She set aside rubbing alcohol, water, softsoap, and three thick washcloths, and chose one of only a handful of clothes she had to change into. “I wont have my coat…” She half pouted, but unbuttoned and shrugged the thing off anyway. It suffered the worst from blood and general grime, and she laid it open on the ground to bundle the rest of her things in. Shoes hardly needed to be washed, and she set those aside, while the rest of her soft things were piled into the coat, and tied in a tight ball. She changed quickly, not wanting to be caught ((Quite literally)) with her pants down, and secured the last of her clothing before she reached for the washcloths and scrubbed wherever she saw crimson, until she washcloths were just as grimy as she had been. At least now she was clean.

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Carpe Noctem