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Viewing Single Post From: May the Lord Accept This Sacrifice at Our Hands
Namira
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Null sheen.
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...She was gone.

He'd failed.

Imraan wasn't sure if he'd hit Peter, found himself torn between hoping he had and wondering if by shooting at him, he'd just stooped to his level. Then he looked down at Jessie's face again and no longer cared about the moral high ground.

Peter had killed his best friend, his crush, in cold blood. There was no possible way he could justify himself, no possible atonement. He deserved every hell Imraan could give him.

But... he could've done something more, right? Why had he been so slow? Why had he dawdled at the door and let Jessie - Jessie with her broad smile and welcoming voice - just rush straight up to Peter. If he'd been there, maybe he could've helped her, ran Peter off. He had this shotgun right?

Imraan's gaze snapped up from Jessie, whose expression, against all odds, was serene, smiling. Peter was speaking to him. Was there even any sense in listening? Petty, trivial justifications. Ridiculous excuses, no doubt. He wasn't going to waste his time on them.

"You really think I care about what you have to say, Peter? You lost any claim to honesty and integrity the second you attacked her. You want to lecture me after killing my BEST FRIEND!? How dare you! How DARE you!? J...Just GET OUT OF HERE!"

Silence.

Imraan looked back down to Jessie. He hadn't budged in what seemed like years, on his knees in her blood. The anger dissolved away, and then came the tears.

She didn't deserve this.
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May the Lord Accept This Sacrifice at Our Hands · The Parish