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Darius smelled liquid iron. Darius smelled pain. He failed activating the collar and was fucked. His weapon was gone.

If Junko could have read his mind, she probably could have responded with a 'your face' joke and it would have been equally true. Your face was gone.

Red liquid coming from the nose, his face also scarred with the cut Junko had caused. His face hurt. He kicked at Junko, punched at her with his bare fists, but he needed to get out of her range. Escape.

Next to him on the ground, the message in a bottle. He quickly reached out to grab it, throw it at Junko's face and used the surprise to stand up, kicked his bag he dropped while fighting in the direction of the exit and ran to get the fuck out.

That was not easy, though. He barely could walk straight, he had everything aching. Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip.

Grabbing his bag on the ground, he began to...run. A sprint, that unlike any sprint he did in PE. He wanted everything to hurt, to ache, just to get the fuck out of here. To let Junko not kill him.

Lung, face, nose, chest, knee. Too much pain to even speak a last word to Junko. It would have probably been an insult. He went down the Helipad.

His hand touched the area between nose and mouth, he could not feel his 'beard', but what surprised him was the amount of red coloured liquid that stuck on his hand now. He needed to aid himself. When he was out of reach of Junko, he began to walk in a slow pace again. He burped, wanting to get rid of all the pain that bitch had caused him.

He walked away. Bye, bye, Junko.

((Darius Van Dyke continued in 凸( •̀_•́ )凸))
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96+ Quite Bitter Beings · Helipad