Miricles and Murder (Kurloz X reader)

Part 3

"It's alright, Gam. He doesn't care. But I'll protect you if he does get mad, 'kay?"

"You shouldn't have to. I'm almost as big as you, you know. And he hardly ever pays attention to me anyway, since he likes you so much better—he'll be more mad at you than me."

"Good." Kurloz puts an arm around Gamzee's shoulders, leading him away, and Gamzee takes hold of his finger as he is prone to do. "Maybe if I make him angry enough he'll leave us alone, or throw us out or something. That would be fucking wicked."

"Or he'd cull you, too."

Kurloz ponders that a moment. "It wouldn't be so bad, I guess. I'd just worry about leaving you alone. We'll just stay away from him for a while, alright?"

"...Okay."

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Kurloz's eyes flash open, taking in the stony darkness surrounding him. He struggles to remember where he is, starvation and a lethargy working together to fuzz his thought processes. Where the hell is he? He lies silently for a while, blinking slowly as his retinas adjust to the blackness of the room, and he sees the coffin that has kept him company throughout the day. He rolls over with a groan, his body sore from sleeping on the cement floor of the tomb, and recalls that he'd had to break into the place to escape from the rising sun and prying eyes. Luckily the stone door is heavy, which means that many species—including most blood-colors of trolls—can't lift it, and so he would be safe.

But now he needs to leave. The sun is setting, as can be seen by the dim glow from under the doorway on the other side of the crypt. The light had been blocked from reaching him during the day by the bulk of the coffin. Kurloz grabs up the small journal he had clutched throughout the day and forces himself into a stretch, ignoring the pain in his ligaments and joints, then shoves the item into the back pocket of his shorts and walks around the sarcophagus to shove open the barrier. He pauses with it partially open, listening for any suspicious noises that might portend danger. He smells a large animal nearby, likely a guard dog or something, which might be a problem if it decides to make noise about his intrusion. But as the creature doesn't make any sounds of movement he takes the chance that it is asleep and quickly slips through the open crypt, closing it securely behind him in case he wants to use it again. No sense in making a huff around the general populace about a grave robber by leaving the tomb open.

As he turns away he hears the unmistakable sound of a blow dart right behind him, and a sharp stab into his thighs causes him to freeze and look down. Sure enough, he's been darted. Kurloz growls threateningly from deep within his throat. He isn't worried too much about the dart—not very many sedatives can affect him—so he just pulls it out and crushes the device in his fist. His eyes travel upward to lock onto a young human male, with light sandy hair and surprisingly icy blue eyes, who is stationed at the top of the crypt. The man looks nearly terrified.

Kurloz takes a step forward, intending to confront him, but his leg wobbles beneath him as he does so. His brows draw together in confusion before he realizes that the dart must have been something powerful, if it were affecting him so quickly. His lips pull up in a snarl, contorting his face into a grotesque mask as his stitches attempt to keep his lips together and his fangs hidden. He plants his feet, knowing that he won't be able to run fast enough to escape, but he might be able to incapacitate this man and drag himself somewhere. The human...wait, no. He didn't smell human, Kurloz realizes. The being looks down in confused agitation, pulling a second dart cautiously from his pocket and uncapping it. Kurloz tenses as the weapon is reloaded, but the attacker doesn't put it back to his lips quite yet, seeming to wait for something specific to happen. Kurloz would guess it was for him to fall over, as whatever drug had been forced into his system was very strong. Only a few minutes have elapsed, and already his vision is getting hazy and his limbs numb and heavy—although he is trying his best to hide that.