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MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((All the godmodding in this post has been approved.

Oh, uh... shit, this was in the making before Toben posted. Most of the details work, execpt one. ... Actually, they all work. Fuck yeah.))

Tabi yelled his name. It pierced through the ringing in his ears somehow, letting him take a hold of it to pull him through. He and Aaron were now struggling near the top of the stairs in the narrow hallway, a wall pressed to each of their backs. The shotgun had been rendered useless as far as a firearm went; now it was nothing more than a metal stick that he was using to keep Aaron at bay, as well as lodged against the wall. A pistol was pointed, but... not at him. Of course not, why would it be? The shotgun had been locked in a way that was not pointed at Aaron. That meant the most imminent threat was...

"Tabi!"

Ivan let go of the pancor with his left and and reached for Aaron's wrist, but somewhere between the two placements of his hand, several shots rang out. The concussive force of each shot punched through him almost as though he had been shot again, but it didn't stop his hand from latching onto Aaron's and slamming it back against the wall. The boy's grip on the pistol did not relinquish, but Ivan didn't care. He just needed it to not be pointed at anybody. For a moment, he took his eyes off of Aaron to look at Tabi...

She was on the floor, and blood coated her leg. Tabi had been shot, and Aaron was the one who shot her.

Taking his eyes off of the boy proved to be a mistake as Aaron's forehead cracked against Ivan's. The only saving grace that prevented him from stumbling back was the wall that was already pressed to his back, the claustrophic hallway offering support in more ways than Ivan could have guessed. Aaron tried to direct the gun at him. The gun that had shot Tabi was now trying to be pointed at Ivan.

Asshole...

ASSHOLE!


"ASSHOLE!" Ivan screamed, swinging his left fist down on the hand that was trying to raise itself. There was a yell, maybe even from the both of them, but the sounds blurred together. Everything now smelled of blood, and a distinct, weighty and viscious mosture gathered above Ivan's upper lip. The pistol fell to the floor with a clattering sound, and the fist had found a new target. Again and again and again, Ivan beat against Aaron's face. There was no art to the matter, no glory or form, just the two wailing on each other in a brutal race to be the first one to incapacitate the other. Aaron clawed to the side, trying to get some distance between himself and Ivan. He was reaching for something, but this was his mistake. Another shot rang out, causing Ivan to wince. For an instant, he thought Aaron might've been able to reach for another gun and pull it out before Ivan could react. He resisted the urge to check himself for spots of blood coming from a wound that he couldn't feel. After a drawn out moment of silence that seemed like it did not belong, Aaron dropped something. Another weapon of some sort... a gun? Ivan could not look at it for too long... his eyes were instead pulled to the patch of blood forming on Aaron's arm. Tabi had not taken her own wound lying down. Rather, she showed her strength one more time.

Tabi...

Both hands were now on the Pancor Jackhammer, and the butt of the shotgun swung up at Aaron's chin. There was a satisfying crack and it knocked the boy up against the wall that formed the side of the staircase, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough until Aaron shed his own blood for having spilled Tabi's. "Give her back..." Ivan uttered mindlessly, swinging the gun again... laterally this time. It cracked against Aaron's head. "Give her back! GIVE HER BACK!"

The beating continued, yet it failed to satisfy Ivan. "You just make everybody's life miserable...", a swing to the gut followed in due time. "You hurt the only person I give a damn about!" Another shot to the head brought Aaron right in front of the stairs. The barrel of the shotgun pointed directly at his chest. Ivan no longer knew hesitation.

"You're still a goddamned tool..."

He pulled the trigger for the third time.
Edited by MK Kilmarnock, Oct 31 2011, 05:47 PM.
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