Cold and His Shadow (Mr. Green and Mr. Blue)
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(Trying a different writing style, feel free to tell me what you think, Here, IG, IRC, PM, whatever, I like to hear what people think, espically if they think it sucks
)A tall man with a pale complexion squats low in the grasses, a long wooden staff balanced on his shoulder, looking intently at a figure lying in the grass, covered in bruises. A smoky figure, shadow-like, stands over them both, red eyes furiously glowing, although it is impossible to tell what they focus upon.
The squatting man grins revealing unnaturally gray teeth, and glances up to the shadow. He stands as the shadow's head turns slightly, a flicker of concern dancing across his long face for the briefest of moments before taking the staff and pushing the blunt tip hard down upon his chest. His eyes spring open, and they beg for mercy, but his mouth does not move as blood drips from the side of a broken jaw.
The man grins again, as winds rustle across the grasses of the seemingly endless plain. He speaks slowly, with a long drawl to his words, and puts great thought behind each: "You know this predicament is your own fault don't you? The story has to be fixed, and you know how the story ends, don't you." Broken Jaw swallows hard, looking up at the pale one, still not saying anything, or even trying to. The pale one reaches to his belt and whips out a wicked looking dagger, crusted thickly in blood. He looks at if for a moment and places it in Broken Jaw's hand, wrapping his fingers around it.
"Its your choice," the pale one says quietly, before resting his full weight on the staff, cracking his sternum. He howled and tries to lift his arm to bring the dagger to a point where he could stab at the pale one, but can't work up the force. The shadow grows impatient and hisses, and the pale one nods coldly, murmurs a guttural message and applies more pressure to the staff, causing Broken Jaw to howl again before his eyes roll to the back of his head and the shadow descends upon his almost lifeless body. Shadowy hands slide through clothing and flesh, and with a final gasp Broken Jaw perishes.
Thunder cracks in the distance and the shadow's eyes glow bright again. The pale one starts digging a grave, a shallow one, so his body will rise to the surface again in several months. Rain started falling, and shadows dull outline became more blotted as the man toiled for a while longer before pushing the dead ones body into the hole and then pushing the dirt back over the top. The shadow's eyes faded.
The pale one looked at the mud for a minute before grinning stupidly. He splashed the mud around with the stick for several minutes before the shadow let out a low hiss. He looked up and grinned again, before telling the shadow: "Lets go have tea."
