What The Cat Dragged In Chapter Montresor and Fortunato, a x-men: the movie fanfic | FanFiction
They go to Fortunato's house and Fortunato beats up Montresor for being a Many years ago, there lived two young men that seemed to have a very good relationship with Be sure to follow the tips and guidelines provided in the lessons. when he denied his relationship with Lewinsky: "It was a very heartfelt story, Fortunato is lured by Montresor who supposedly seeks his advice on some. Edgar Allen Poe's "The Cask of Amontillado" is all about who has power over who (at least in Montresor's mind, that is). The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. Explain the irony in the brief relationship.
Kelly would just hate it if she thought her dear little brother was just warehoused somewhere. That'd be your fault. Let me enlighten you. I don't do anything half-assed. You got overwhelmed with all the family shit going on and the constant media attention. Course it looks like you like that, but that's just a front you put on for the cameras.
I got plans for the kid too. Stan was squirming in his chair. The pool of terror deepened. Stan gave a shocked cry and started to babble again.
Segment I English III Collaboration – Ms. Freed's Collaboration Site
Creed didn't bother listening to what Stan was saying; he just waited until the tirade slowed. Then he eased the pressure on the digit, just slightly.
You really are a dumb son of a bitch. This time a rush of piss accompanied the scream. Creed grinned and chose the third toe of Stan's left foot.
The pliers shattered and ground the small bones. Stan's scream was hoarse. Never thought I even wanted a mate and then she showed up. You hurt her because you thought you could get away with it or because you got balls the size of fucking raisins. I don't give a shit why you did it. I just know that you pissed me off. She's pure class, but I'm a fucking son of a bitch. Kelly stripped off her clothes and got into the shower as soon as she got back to the apartment.
She stood there under the hot water and tried to forget about where she'd been and what she'd seen. She knew what Victor did, but until she walked into that twisting maze of corridors and cameras it had been nothing more an abstraction. Easily pushed aside by the emptiness left by Victor's absence and routines of daily life. Today she had to face the truth head on in a place painted desperation gray and smelling of stagnation and fear. It was as carefully planned as Cavallo's bunker and served the same purpose.
That was the unavoidable fact. Kelly turned up the hot water and massaged the back of her neck. Cassie would have told her to leave. Professor Xavier would probably show up in person to offer false sympathy laced with smugness.
Her grandfather would tell her that he wanted her to be happy and that would be the truth. Granna wouldn't mean to use it as a weapon, but she would.
The idea was ridiculous anyway. She was Victor's mate. Being without him, even now, made her feel like she was missing a piece of her soul. She'd figure out a way to cope with this the same way she'd learned to cope with his moods and to hear the endearments under the insults. Besides, something had flickered through his eyes just after he woke her. Something between ache and embarrassment and resignation.
She wasn't sure what that meant, but that fleeting look lingered in her mind. She sighed and turned off the water. She wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out of the shower to confront the pile of clothes on the bathroom floor. Just the sight of them brought her back to that sterile little room and all the anger and fear contained inside it.
She could just toss the clothes. It seemed like a waste, but she doubted she'd ever be able to look at them again without fighting nausea. She looked at the pile a moment longer. Just because they were tainted to her, didn't mean they were tainted to everyone. She dried off and pulled on sweats and a t-shirt, and then she went to the kitchen for a grocery bag and a manila envelope.
Kelly made a stop at her computer and after a few keystrokes addressed the envelope to Free the Girls and filled out the bare minimum on their donation form. She tossed out the panties and stockings. The blouse and skirt went into the bag in a crumpled heap. The bra went into the envelope along with the printed form and twenty dollars from her household money. The bra had still had the tags on it that morning. She hoped they would forgive her for not washing it first. She picked up the phone and called Conlon.
The few minutes it took him to get up to the apartment seemed more like a stretch of weeks. Kelly's eyes never left the bag of clothing, as if it would somehow manifest Stan or that stark place or some other demon from the last few hours.
The elevator tone sounded and Conlon stepped out. You sounded kind of weird on the phone. She knew she didn't sound fine, but she wasn't going to give Conlon the opportunity to ask any more questions.
She picked up the bag and handed it to him. I have no idea how much postage it'll take. Creed woke roaring from the nightmare. His claws extended and slashing, the pain of his father carving into his chest with a shard of broken glass still bright enough for him to wonder why the scent of blood was fading.
The rage was still hot enough that he was blind to the utilitarian space for a long moment. He could taste the hatred. Feel it, and the residual fear mix on his skin to form a pungent slime that would linger until he sunk his claws into flesh and used blood to wash it away. To replace emotional gore with physical gore. That he could handle.
That he could tell himself he enjoyed. The dream faded back into the dim past and Creed sat up, slicing through the remnants of the shredded blanket that had encircled him like insidious tentacles. It had been weeks since a nightmare had swallowed him whole. He put it down to exhaustion or lack of light or fresh air or decent food. Then, he decided the why didn't matter. There were two motherfuckers downstairs who just might bleed enough to cool his rage.
Kelly never slept well when Victor was gone, but being without him from time to time was just a part of life. She'd gotten used to wearing a shirt that still held Victor's scent and tossing and turning a cold bed by night and wandering from one empty space to another by day.
Time moved in a slow drizzle on those days, but she'd gotten used to those stagnant moments. They were like time spent in a waiting room, it was dull, but limited in duration because Victor would be back. This time seemed worse somehow. It could have been that she knew Victor was so close by. As the days blended one into the next, she started to wonder why it was that he was staying away.
The more she let that wondering chase itself around in her mind, the more she thought he was avoiding coming back. Her appearance in his life was unusual to say the least. Since then he'd been working to find the scattered pieces of the puzzle that brought her into the woods that day to start with and keep her out of harm's way so he could do it.
In a way, all of that turmoil made her interesting. What did he have now? She cooked and cleaned for him, but he could hire someone to do that. She slept with him, but she didn't imagine he would have any trouble finding women who were just as willing, better looking and not so fragile. Xavier's had been full of the less fragile and better looking variety.
Seen things she'd only read about. Watched decades and centuries slip by and had found a way to not only keep going, but to turn all the changes to his advantage. What did she have? The ability to piss people off, a stubborn streak a mile wide, a comatose younger brother, a crazy mother and a pile of high school textbooks sitting on the coffee table.
What did he have to come back to really? Creed stood in the narrow shower and washed off the stink of Paulie C's final moments. Fucker had held on for nearly four days. Reasonably impressive considering the kind of beating he'd taken over the course of those days. Shit as he was at being a boss, he probably wouldn't have gotten there at all if he'd been prone to giving up easily. The fact that Cavallo was dead didn't mean his corpse was going to rest in peace. In a few days, when the fat bastard started to get good and ripe, then he'd be ready to move into Stan's tiny cell.
That weak son of a bitch was starting to lose it already. Not that Creed gave a shit. A person didn't need to be sane to suffer. The insane ones usually did a hell of a job of torturing themselves too, given the chance.
He turned off the water and pulled a rough towel off the rack. Murder and torment were the easy part. Going back to the frail was proving to be damn near impossible and that made no fucking sense because all he could think about was being back home with her.
Used to be easy. He'd leave; get on with what he had to do, call the frail every few days and then go home to find her waiting for him. What she told herself in the meantime was something he'd never considered before.
She could have told herself or anyone else anything that she could live with. She couldn't do that this time though. She'd seen too much and her imagination would fill in the rest. She'd know what kind of a son of a bitch he really was. Why the fuck would she want him to come back after that?
He pulled on jeans and a t-shirt. He'd even thought about asking Conlon what the frail had been up to the past few days, but that idea had been dismissed quickly. The other mutant might be useful for some things, but he was thick as shit when it came to understanding the frail. Besides, asking Conlon would have meant admitting his doubts.
To a third party. It'd make him look fucking weak.
He finished dressing and tossed the towel into the orange plastic basket in the bathroom. Then he made his way through the twisting corridors.
The whole thing had been wrong from the start. Doomed to end because she found out what he was and couldn't deal with the reality.
He knew that the first time he fucked her. He couldn't have something normal. Normal wasn't for animals like him. Creed emerged through the concealed door at the garage level of the apartment and stared at the elevator for a long moment before he actually crossed the harshly lit space and got into it. He turned off the arrival signal and started the elevator moving. What he would do when she rejected him was a mystery to Creed.
Part of him wanted to let her go if that's what she needed. Part of him wanted to kill her. Which part would win would depend on the moment. The doors slid open with a soft sigh of well-tuned mechanics. The apartment was dim and silent and the scent of tears and anxiety teased at him. His chest hurt as he stepped out and let the doors close behind him. He focused on the scent and silently moved toward the source. The frail was curled up on the sofa near the TV. She lay on her side, wearing one of his shirts, and covered by one of his jackets.
Exhaustion and streaks of tears marred her face. Even though she was asleep, anxiety still pounded with every beat of her heart. The ache in his chest grew as he stood there and watched her.
Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. He sat down on the sofa next to her. She stirred, but didn't wake up. His hand hesitated for a moment, then he stroked her cheek the tips of his claws barely making contact with her silky skin.
This time, she woke up. She sat up quickly, her eyes were wide, but there was no fear in them, just something he could only label disbelief. The anxiety vanished from her scent, and was replaced with sweet vanilla. She reached out to him and Creed pulled her close, his mouth finding hers in a soft kiss. Her body molded to his, her hands stroking his back.
All of his doubts evaporated in the heat and certainty of that contact. She was his mate. He tugged the jacket out from between them and pulled her closer. At first, Kelly was sure she was dreaming. Victor wouldn't be sitting next to her watching her sleep.
He wasn't coming back. While her heart pounded she waited for the image to shatter. When it didn't, she reached out. She was tentative, he wasn't. Before Kelly could think, his mouth was on hers. Thinking about anything seemed like a waste of time after that. She got lost in the taste of his mouth and the way he teased her with the rough part of his tongue. Her hands wandered over his back and shoulders, reveling in the familiar slopes of his muscles and aching for the feeling of his skin against hers.
A soft growl rumbled from his chest and he pulled her closer. Kelly straddled his lap, her mouth still on his. Her head spun when he picked her up, but she didn't know if that was from the motion or just the fact the effect Victor always had on her.
He started up the stairs and nipped her lower lip. Kelly's legs tightened around him and she rubbed herself against his erection.
He groaned and squeezed her bottom, pulling her closer. One hand moved under the hem of her shirt and tore through the sides of her panties. He dropped the offending scrap of fabric on the stairs and kept walking. It seemed to take ages to get to bed. By the time they did, there was a throbbing ache between Kelly's legs.
She moved one hand between their bodies and worked at the buttons of the shirt. By the time he set her down, Kelly shrugged out of her last remaining garment and gasped for breath. Victor watched her, a fang-baring grin spreading across his face. Kelly blushed and slid back, making room for him. He moved over her, his mouth softening, trailing kisses from her mouth down her neck to her collarbone.
His fingers teased the peaks of her nipples. Kelly was beyond thinking. Her hands stroked over his head and down his neck into the collar of his shirt and down his back, aching for the feeling of his skin beneath her fingers. He growled again and started teasing her right nipple with the rough side of his tongue.
The little bud was already sensitive; the intense attention made Kelly whimper and squirm. Victor held her still, mischief dancing in his eyes. He put a light kiss on the swollen peak, then in the valley between her breasts.
He smiled up at her and traced the margin of her nipple with the sharp tip of one claw. A needy little whimper escaped her throat and she raised her hips against him. He chuckled softly and began his assault on her other nipple, leaving it throbbing on the line between shattering pleasure and enough pain to bring tears to her eyes.
Just before her whimpers turned into incoherent begging, he placed a soothing kiss on her tender flesh and trailed those light kisses down over her stomach. She opened herself to him, exposing her tenderest places without a second thought to the assault that would come from that tongue.
He held her legs wide and started pressing teasing licks and kisses against her dripping sex. His tongue delved past her lower lips driving her to the edge with fleeting, velvety touches. Desire had grown to aching need. Kelly reached for his head and lifted her hips. The insistence of her need was no match for the strength of his resolve.
He kept teasing, bumping into that sensitive little button just enough to keep her on the edge. Kelly was sure that she'd slipped into a space outside of time where nothing existed except the coiled tension in her lower tummy and the man who kept tightening the spring. Without warning, Victor's lips captured that little nub and he sucked firmly. Release hit Kelly with a force that tore a scream from her throat.
The world contracted to nothing more than a bubble of pleasure around her and stayed there, suspended for what seemed like forever. After that encapsulated eternity, she felt his mouth moving up her body. This time, when she touched his shoulder she felt only bare skin.
His mouth found hers and she tasted herself on his lips. Kelly raised her hips and her hands drifted down over his back to his hips, seeking more connection.
He shifted so that his broad tip was against her entrance; his eyes were locked on hers. In that moment his gaze was touching her as intimately as his manhood was.
Taking her eyes off of his was unthinkable. His eyes didn't shift either, even as he pushed inside her slowly. Kelly was lost in his eyes. Her body moved with his, picking up his slow rhythm. The tension was coiling again. She let the moment consume her, following the growing intensity to her second release. Her eyes never left his. His gaze never wavered, not even when his own release took over. Kelly wasn't sure how long the silence stretched between them, but she decided that it didn't really matter.
She was curled against his chest. His fingers were laced in her hair. A low purr vibrated though him and into her and broke the silence from time to time.
This had to be what perfection was. A million other things that Kelly didn't have words for. A million other things that didn't need words to be understood.
He stroked her cheek and she looked up at him, a little smile on her lips. A little grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. He chuckled and kissed her lightly. Good thing I got back when I did, there might not have been any of you left. Kelly studied the mat of hair on his chest. We're going out to dinner.
You been cooped up long enough. Hiding had been woven into the way she lived. It was something she never really considered anymore. She'd moved from hating it to accepting it to using it as a security blanket of sorts. This was the first time she'd thought of that isolation as being over.
It was a little frightening. She reminded herself that Victor would be there. She looked up at him, a little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Kelly tapped the end of her pencil against her notebook and looked at the clock again. Exactly one minute and thirty-seven seconds later than the last time she looked. She looked down at the page and tried to decipher what she'd written.
Sines, cosines and tangents blended and rewove themselves into something jagged and disjointed. She closed the notebook and rubbed her eyes. The last couple of weeks had been strange. Victor came and went at odd hours, probably to make it easier for her to keep her promise not to ask questions. When he came back, he was always freshly showered and distant. Almost too raw for anything but hours spent with alcohol and isolation.
Seeing him like that made her heart hurt. Saying something about it, suggesting that it was time to let Stan go, would have upset him more. She carried the weight of the ache in silence and when he was ready to reach for her, she reached back. Her phone rang, breaking the chain of her thoughts. She looked at it and saw her grandparents' number. Kelly put on a smile before she answered. I think I stopped getting anywhere with it about twenty minutes ago.
I'll work on it some more tonight when I Skype with Cassie. Is Granna on the other line? Her ladies group has some kind of speaker this afternoon. From what she said it's kind of like making crafty useful things out of things you'd throw away. Conlon gave me an update this morning; he didn't say anything was wrong. Stan's been officially missing for two weeks.
The lawyer tells me that now would be the best time to petition for temporary custody. Because Stan never legally adopted you kids and because your mother's not able to take care of him we've got a decent shot. Someone has to be able to make medical decisions. I didn't want you to feel like your grandmother and I are trying to take anything away from you.
I always expected Cody to live with you and Granna. Something that might happen someday if certain things lined up. I think Victor would have done it if everything else hadn't gotten so crazy. I guess things have changed but my life is still too…" She shook her head.
- Homework Questions for 9th grade classes
The lawyer says we have a good chance, but that we'd have an even better chance if you were to come out of hiding. With proof, the court could reverse that. I don't know if I could do it. Proceedings are closed to the public. I know it's a lot to ask. Let me think about it? The whole truth wasn't something she couldn't put words to. He knew it was because of Fortunato.
Montressor had enough of him and knew he had to do something. Montressor knew that was a lie.
What is the relationship between montresor and fortunato?
You never have any work to do past dark. His wife had been ignoring him lately and avoiding talking to him. Montressor knew that if this continued any longer, his wife would probably leave and never speak to him again. Montressor needed a plan… one that would get rid of Fortunato once and for all.
His first plan was to confront Fortunato about the situation. Once the sun rose again and Montressor woke from his slumber, he went through his morning routine and got ready for work. He did his job just as great as usual and came home feeling refreshed. About a week ago, Fortunato had invited Montressor out to a bar with him, and the day they were supposed to go was today. Monstressor figured it would be a good time to settle down and inform Fortunato of his wrongdoings. Once the time was right, Montressor left his house and headed towards the bar.
Fortunato called the bartender over after walking over to the aisle. What do you mean?