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It was like watching a movie almost.

Jon could see it all happen in... third person, it felt like. He couldn't feel it, but he could see every hit. He could hear every smack against the ground, every drop of blood flying this way and that.

He reached up feebly, trying to grab at Alex's face, trying to get him to stop. Alex bit down on his hand, yanking back and forth like a rabid dog. His head reeled back and the glove was torn from Jon's hand, which fell limply by him. He took a good long look, and realized what that searing pain was when Alex dragged him back and forth. He tore his own nails out trying to grab the shelf, they stood out in odd angles, red leaking from his finger tip- another smash interrupted his train of thought.

He was forced to look at Alex one last time. He saw his hands open up, his thumbs reel back. He knew what Alex was going to do with those thumbs. That freak made sure his fucked up face would be the last thing he saw, and Jon knew it. He closed his eyes, not like it would help.

Screaming filled the room.

This was it, this was what dying felt like.

It only took seconds later to realize that it wasn't Jon screaming.

Alex had a machete rammed just under his ribs and he was the one screaming, grasping at the blade. The blade twisted and Alex screamed even louder.

This was his chance.

Me or him. Him or me. Alex HAS TO die today...

He brought his hand toward's Alex's face, towards the burnt scar tissue that covered half of it. He scraped down, his fingers catching on something soft and sticky. His head reeled back again. Itdidn't catch.

It did cause him to lean back however, giving him just enough room to crawl out from under him.

"Fuck you, you toothless cyclops creep!"

Alex stood up, machete still hanging through him. He brought his leg up and kicked Alex where he could in the situation, between his legs. With an audible pop, Alex leaned over, his knees buckling. A head crushed for another head crushed you bastard. He looked behind him, and saw the toilet seat. He rolled to his front and started crawling towards it.

So close, but so far. He forced himself to his feet, the world spinning, his peripheral vision turning into black and pink stars as he felt nausea come over him. It felt like he was staring down a tube, he couldn't see anything around him, just things in front of him.

He fell to the ground again and continued crawling. He was just a little over a foot away now.

This was it, it was almost over now.
Edited by ToxieTheToxicAvenger, Mar 17 2017, 07:37 AM.
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