"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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ToxieTheToxicAvenger
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Ever closer.

Ever closer...

His foot slowly reached his axe, and planted itself just on the hilt. All it took... One swift move, and he was gone.

But for Jeremy, all it took was one twitch, and then he'd be gone...

Shit.

Alex started rising again, his face was fucking red as a jacked dick. Wait no, what kind of dick bleeds when you jack it? Actually, don't answer that. Point is, Michael had walloped him well. He'd be proud of himself had he not run the risk of turning into skull salad. He laughed at him... The audacity of this punk. The fucking audacity, the bastard had the upper hand only because- FUCK!

Alex had a partner in crime, and at this point, Michael didn't. He also didn't know of Jeremy's gun. Shit, this was a trap, and he was gonna pay for it.

Alex opened his mouth, and Michael half expected a bullet to blast right through him. He complemented the hit? Whaaat in the fuuuuuck?

Okay, these fuckers were whacked the fuck out. Insane in the membrane, loopy as shit. He asked about why he hadn't killed him...

Why didn't he axe the fucker in two?

Alex was a murderer, Michael would be in the right to do so. He walked towards him and asked for it. Michael was a vigilante, not a hero, so why didn't he take the chance, why'd he follow the whole honorable route? He-

Michael laughed. He couldn't stop. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

There's a moment where everything just clicks. It all falls into place. Where you have the realization of your life. Michael had been telling himself the entire time that this wasn't a movie, that this was real life. But was it really?

There were cameras everywhere, watching every moment. People acted in ways he'd never thought possible, nobody was truly their selves. They were all playing some part in a fucked up Greek Tragedy, and all Danya amounted to was the Chorus...

All it took was a little pushing.

Well, not really, Michael wasn't batshit insane. He didn't believe none of that bullshit, but Alex... Playing sane wouldn't help, he'd have to out-crazy him out of the room if he wanted to live.

You know what they say about not beating them right? You join them.

"Come on, Al..."

Michael turned and grinned towards Alex.

"You know exactly why I let you live. Think for a moment."

He lowered his arms, grabbing his belt loop. His head tilted up. This wouldn't work with the coward-ass 'don't shoot me' pose.

"You can't die now, neither can I, we're Murphy and Boddicker, Mad Max and Toecutter, Decker and Roy, The Terminator and Connor, Mclane and Gruber... You know exactly why, Alex."

Michael reached to his jacket pocket, slowly pulling his Wayfarers back out. His foot tensed over the axe. Please let this work.

"I didn't kill you, because you didn't have my permission to die, Alex. I told you I'd kill you last, and I meant it. Whatever happens before the climax, nobody knows, but I know this, and you know it too, nobody's gonna kill either of us, except one of us once all is said in done."

He flipped his shades open. Please for the love of all that is holy, let this work.

"When it comes down to it, nobody's gonna save you from me, and nobody's gonna save me from you. Your lackey back there? He's gonna be dead long before either of us meets. Whether or not it'll be me or you to do it depends all on what happens here."

He placed his shades along his face. Please oh pleaaase, do not fuck this up now.

"That punch was something for you to think about. I wanted to show you just what you're in for later on down the line. Give you a little taste. A little taste of hell, just before I send you there. Savor it..."

His foot pressed harder against his axe. This was about the stupidest shit he'd ever heard himself say. But goddamn, if it fails, at least it'd look good as an epitah. At least it'd be along the levels of Hold muh beer an' watch 'dis...

"We'll meet again soon, Al."
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This World Belongs to the Mad · Solitary Confinement