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Grim Wolf
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[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Crowe stopped moving.

Alex did not turn his head to look, still mumbling, still pretending to search the room, still pretending that he couldn't see Crowe. The axe was rising, oh so slowly. Christ, did Crowe think he was an executioner? Did he think he was the killer in a slasher film? There wasn't time for this.

Alex's heart was pounding in his chest. His limbs felt weak with stress and adrenaline. Just a little closer, Crowe.

Alex tightened his grip on his machete, ready to swing, and-

And there was movement across the room. A face Alex vaguely recognized. Where had he seen that face?

"Tarquin," said the voice, and Alex recognized the voice, Alex had heard it whispering, shouting, cursing his name, bellowing in rage, Alex had heard it days and days ago, after the bullet hadn't killed him, after his sword had cut through Rea and

oh fuck

The gun was rising, and there was a hissing like a snake, and Alex threw himself backwards, forgetting Crowe was there, and the two fell back together as the thunder of a gunshot rang through the room, and Alex kicked out with all his strength and the tub of slimy water just in front of him fell over, unleashing a dank splashing cascade across the flooded room, mirroring the splashing of his tumbling flailing against Crowe. His flashlight went tumbling, casting wild shadows across the grimy room.[/i]
Edited by Grim Wolf, Feb 7 2017, 05:09 PM.
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Tara Behzad: "They don't get to decide how I die."

Lizzie Luz: "I don't want to go."

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