"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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The guy who went AFK for a few months
[ *  * ]
Shit, shit shit.
Will's back hit the ground with a thump and he grunted in pain. In front of him, Rea's murderer dashed away. Straight line. He raised the revolver and sighted him, knowing that all he needed to would be to squeeze the trigger and...
Wait, what? He had been positive there was one bullet left in the chamber. There had been, hadn't there? Yeah, there had, so...
Oh. The cylinder had been spun. The bullet could be fucking anywhere in the next five pulls of the trigger. Fuck that.
He opened his other palm where the bullets had been, ready to slot them in, only to see his hand empty.
"FUCK!" Did life really not want this bastard dead? He looked around and saw the bullets under one of the pallets, copper glinting in the light. He couldn't reach them, no way.
He placed one hand over the hammer of the revolver and yanked it backwards, Clint Eastwood style.

"I'm gonna ask you a question," he deapdanned.
"Do you feel... Lucky, punk?"
Edited by Dannyrulx, Oct 1 2016, 05:42 PM.
You don't win the game of death by dying first. The name's a little misleading.

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