Night of the Witches

[Fritz]

Date: 9 Feb, 2007 -- 10 Feb, 2007

Characters:

La Vache Qua Rit, Afghan Hound
Tazz, Laborador

Summary: Rit makes her debut as a drama queen to Tazz, the mop-oggling Lab.

[Fritz]

Ah, life is so easy when you're old; the extense age of the afghan allowed her to get by life with little effort. Age does have it's drawbacks though, like that old pain in the back leg, but it certainly payed off. La Vache Qua Rit made her way to the old cinema, she had eaten, and was now in top condition-- she was just in search for someone to harm.

Like a witch, she was only allowed to come out at night, that was the Death Stalker tradition, and sure La Vache respected traditions. Traditions were everything in her little world; traditions of lies, of death, of black magic. Traditions of dismemebring the poor dogs that she encountered in her way.

There was a reason for which she was one of the most feared Death Stalkers that there were.

Nuff' said, Rit made her way to a dusty room in the cinema, and she layed down near of a broken chair. The long and dirty hairs on her black pelt made her look like some sort of old mop --from here you could not see her zombie-like appearance, as the hairs covered her face completely. In fact, if you were distracted enough, you could actually confuse her for a pretty dog that had just perhaps had a bad hair day.

But appearances can be decieving.


A large black figure scurried through the cinema. His large skull near the dusty floor, it was hard for him to catch the scent of anything. His large paws made clear prints on the dirt infested carpet, his tail held high in the air. He lifted his snout toward the ceiling, still nothing. He continued his search through the dark cinema and finally caught the scent of another.

He stopped dead in his tracks, looking to his left he saw a large open door leading to a dark room filled with lots of broken chairs and cobwebs. Without any thought, he continued his journey into the room and passed the unseen Afghan Hound. His nose suddenly detected the scent of another as it lead him to one of the broken chairs. A dusty mop? He sniffed it, then pawed at it and jumped back. His head tilted to the side as he stared blankly at the dusty mop.


As soon as she noticed the Labrador entering the area, the black mop began producing weeping sounds. Muttering things like 'poor, poor me...' and whimpering with very low volume. The whimpering and weeping just got worse when the Labrador poked the mop in the side-- La Vache made a horrid cry and continued weeping, but she worried not for keeping the volume low anymore.

Of course, all this drama was faked; Rit was the unofficial queen of the drama, and all that age was years of experience at doing drama. This drama was scraping perfection, it was immensely hard --if not impossible-- to tell that it was all faked. Black hair covered her face completely, letting your mind imagine what was making this creature suffer so bad. These black hairs were but a curtain, a curtain that allowed you to see out, but not in. A curtain that hid a smlie wanting to be unleashed; but no! that had to wait. The drama comes first, then the torturing.