"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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RedAstaire
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grim wolf wannabe
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Alessio did not come any nearer. He however showed his gun and pointed it at Amanda.

"Me too."

He stared at her with no expression. He stopped walking. He looked behind her, avoided eye contact, thought about what to say.

"Neither of us wants to get hurt. I am sure you don't want to get hurt. I am already hurt."

He looked at his bandage and then back at the ocean. Not only his arm was shot. No, his heart was broken.

"You don't want to get hurt. It...sucks."

So much for convincing her professionally. Alessio was not good at speaking threateningly. He stepped down his threatening voice after he said the word 'sucks'. He began to speak more in a silent way, a less confident way.

"I don't want to kill you. I just want some rations. You-u have some extra food for me? Or, can I have that gun of yours? You won't be killed."

Amanda was a killer, yes. That was a good thing in his mind. Yes, if she killed more people, yes, that would be good. He did not need to kill her. That would be contradictory to his plan. Killing killers would slow the game down. He wants the game to end.

He was sweating, he shook, even though he had cornered her. But he knew it was a fake gun. He knew it was a fake gun. He stood face to face in a gunpoint. He was ready to die. He was not ready to die. He wants her gun. He needs her gun.

He took a deep breath. Confidence.

"Give me that gun."
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