hellofhisown: (Default)
Al Simmons, the Hellspawn ([personal profile] hellofhisown) wrote in [community profile] longestnight_old 2013-04-28 12:21 am (UTC)

Spawn

Garbage. Rats. A couple roaches.

Just a couple of the things Al found himself waking up face-first in as he groggily regained consciousness in a back alley somewhere.

Not that he was unused to waking up in back alleys, but this time it was obvious that something different had happened to him.

The first clue was that he obviously wasn't in New York anymore. He knew the acrid stench of that city's alleys anywhere, but this place was too clean, even where they threw their trash. Looking out to the end of the alley he could see what looked to be the main street of a sleepy little town.

The other thing that clued him in on the fact that Something had happened to him was how he felt. Almost...energetic. Relatively speaking, of course. His body felt lighter as he lifted himself off the ground, out of the refuse.

Yet, at the same time, he felt weaker. A sickly green glow flickered from his hand briefly as he inspects it. Frowning, he grabbed a rusty pipe from the nearby pile of garbage, displeased with his current, weakened state.

"Just what I fucking need," he muttered, letting the pipe scrape along the ground as he headed further into the alleyway, away from the streets.

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