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ToxieTheToxicAvenger
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Michael sprinted forwards, still screaming, still brandishing his taser. There's a moment where your body goes into autopilot, you simply start watching instead of speaking. If asked why it'd happen, Michael would tell you he wouldn't know, he wasn't a psych expert. There was one thing he did know. The mind could only bend so much before it snaps in two. This meant either one of two things. The 'autopilot' was either the symptom of snapping, or protection from it. It could be that catharsis needed to get his mind set straight, or it could be his mind was gone at this point. He didn't know. He'd know if he survived this.

Michael had one goal. Kill Will. Will had to die first. He didn't deserve to watch Alex die, not like he didn't deserve what was coming either, but Will didn't deserve closure. Michael would make sure of that. Will wouldn't be the one to kill Alex, and Alex wouldn't be the one to kill Will. Will dies first, then Alex. Michael closed the distance.

Will turned.

Will aimed.

Michael closed his eyes.

Will fired.

Will missed.

Michael opened his eyes. Alex tackled Will, he got him on the ground. Michael almost forgave him for lopping his pinkie off. Almost.

It was still the opening he needed though. There was one thing he wanted, and if Michael could give Will just an iota of pain that he had over the course of these five goddamn days, he'd be happy with it. Will was sprawled out on the ground, fighting Alex for the gun. There was the opening. Go for the groin.

Michael's voice cracked as the screaming ceased. He brought the knife up, the lights and sounds of electricity coursing through it filling the room.

He brought it down between Will's legs.
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Lord of Lunatics · Water Treatment