[What the fuck is someone supposed to say? Sorry? I'm sorry, I didn't know, why the hell didn't you just fucking tell me? He'd fallen, and he hadn't meant for him to fall, but maybe he had. He'd rushed him with a heavy, blunted weapon in hand, prepared to strike him hard enough to watch him sail to the ground. The crack of a skull impacting the asphalt. The high, plastic skitter of a tape across concrete.
Regards.
He's not real. Maybe he's just a figment, conjured into reality by a dying man's frazzled brain. Maybe he's still in the Castle. Maybe he's still dying, and this is just what happens to the human mind when it dies. It cycles through its worst and most potent failures, and watches them all on display in technicolor.
(If that's so, then what did Jay see before he -
God no, god no.)
Brian smiles.
That shouldn't chill him the way it does, right to the bone.]
You're dead.
[The words are ragged, a stain across the disarmingly bright and beautiful island. Coiling sickly in his gut like heated lead. He didn't mean to. Oh god, he didn't mean to, but since when does that matter?
Since when did any of it matter to the man in the hood?]
no subject
Regards.
He's not real. Maybe he's just a figment, conjured into reality by a dying man's frazzled brain. Maybe he's still in the Castle. Maybe he's still dying, and this is just what happens to the human mind when it dies. It cycles through its worst and most potent failures, and watches them all on display in technicolor.
(If that's so, then what did Jay see before he -
God no, god no.)
Brian smiles.
That shouldn't chill him the way it does, right to the bone.]
You're dead.
[The words are ragged, a stain across the disarmingly bright and beautiful island. Coiling sickly in his gut like heated lead. He didn't mean to. Oh god, he didn't mean to, but since when does that matter?
Since when did any of it matter to the man in the hood?]