-SCENE FADE IN-

There's a certain Slant of Light,
Winter Afternoons-
That opresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes-

There is a woman, in a white-washed room, brightly lit
by artifical fluorecant light. Here pale-ish skin is
made whiter, her normaly dirty blonde hair made to
look bleached, and the dried blood on her face, as
well as the fresh blood coming from multiple wounds on
her body are turned a brighter crimson. She looks up,
a haunted, but not broken look in her green eyes. At
the table she is sitting at, there is a tape recorder.


On the other side of the table, there is a man, black
shoulder-length hair, grey eyes almost white. His
alabaster skin gives off a gleam that has absolutly
nothing to do with the overhead lights. He leans
forward, a gesture that has obviously seen more use in
the past couple of minutes that it has in the past
year, and says, again:

"Talk."

If you were able to look very closely, you might have
noticed that his incisors were longer than they should
be. But this vampire's 700 years old. He's had time to
practice talking with out fang.

* * * *

SilverDragon, Ltd. Productions Presents

* * * *

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us-
We can find no scar,
But internal difference,
Where the Meanings, are-

"I supose I should tell you about my job. I'm a
body-guard. Hiered muscle. Whatever the hell you want
to call it. I work bad hours, let me tell you. It'd
probably erase all of your preconceptions of bad
hours. Still want to know? Let me put it this way: in
this past seven days, I've gotten about 18 hours of
sleep, total.

"I mean, I can't work in a cubicle, with business
cards, or whatnot shit. I work out of my home. My
girlfriend is a proffesional violinist, my adopted
daughter is an aspiring student, I'm a hit-man turned
body-guard and my best friend is a fucking werewolf.

"My name is Haruka Ten'oh, and welcome to my life."

* * * *

A FLYz/Uka Doublefeature

* * * *

None may teach it- Any-
'Tis the Seal Despair-
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air-

Haruka Ten'oh sits in a heavily draped room, at a
table wich might have been colorfull if there had been
enough light. The cloying drapes that hang over the
window of the appartment kitchen have been cracked
open just the lightest to let the yellow glow of the
streetlight flow into the room in a small sliver.
She's paying no attention to this, however, as she
shoves a clip into her Browning Hi-Power, then loads a
bullet into the chamber.

She has almost the time to put the safty on, before
the window falls in, and a person falls onto the
table. Haruka aims the gun but not fast enough, as the
woman grabs her by the throat. She manages to get one
clear look at the monster, before it backhands her,
and she looses conciousness.

It was Michiru.

When it comes, the Landscape listens-
Shadows- hold their breath-
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death-

* * * *

Slant of Light

Coming, July 2001, to the FFML

okasan8675@yahoo.com

-SCENE FADE OUT-


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