"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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armeggedonCounselor
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D--> I need a towel
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Just as quickly as it had begun, the attack was finished. The knife in Kyle's hand sunk easily into the boy's stomach muscles, sliced the lining of his stomach and, as the boy slumped sideways due to being dead, sliced through more flesh with nearly no resistance as it slid free. Kyle was drenched in blood, even more so that Hayley. She had mostly gotten it at head height, only a little going much lower than that. Not only had the primary spray from the neck wound been more in Kyle's direction, but his hand and lower arm were drenched in blood from the boy's knife wound. The color transfixed Kyle for a moment as he stared at his knife. It's brown color was complimented nicely by the dark red. Laced with a brighter red, actually. Kyle had learned in Anatomy that blood from different veins or arteries was different colors, but he had never had experience in that. Apparently the stabbing had sliced through both types of blood movers.

Hayley was already going through the dead boy's day pack, when Ema asked a weak question from behind Kyle. He didn't turn his head to look at her, although he did sort of snort in a half-laugh. Hayley offered an explanation- it was slightly terrifying to Kyle exactly how calm her voice was. Someone who had just... beheaded someone should not be able to be so calm.

'You just cold stabbed a guy, for something people had been saying for the length of your relationship. You're also calm and rational. Why does Hayley's calmness terrify you?

SHUT UP, RATIONAL VOICE.'


She inspected the gun and turned the safety on. Kyle felt a cold shiver. If that boy had been a little less panicked, or a little more, he would be trying to breathe with a nice hole in his lung. Thank God for panic, for people who couldn't react to a shifting situation.

Hayley had just noticed the blood on Kyle's knife. It seemed the sequence of events had happened too quickly for her to register it right away. She looked up at him.

"Thanks."

Thanks? For what? For joining her in the kill ('It's fun times for the whole family.')? For defending her honor? Kyle had just watched Hayley turn that safety on. He had been moments away from death. He took a breath, took his glasses off, and smiled at Hayley.

"He shouldn't have said that."

Simple- not as witty as he would have liked, but everything witty implied a next time. Nor was it what he really felt, which was something like panic. He was covered in blood, and every fiber of his being was freaking out. Between no sleep, OCD and general panic, his emotional state was New Jersey.

Nobody likes New Jersey.

Hayley gave her sword to Ema. It was an interesting gesture. Perhaps it signified the change from Hayley who was afraid of killing, who couldn't kill without that debilitating collapse, to....

Whatever. She had a point- they needed to get out of here. But....

"Can we wash up a little bit before we leave? I feel sullied and unusual."
Edited by armeggedonCounselor, Oct 19 2010, 04:40 PM.
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Sorry, Mom. Sorry, God. · The Beach: East