Re: Final Third Foul
Posted: Wed Dec 15, 2010 5:27 am
Alex arrived shortly after Jennifer got there. The killer, Jimmy Brennan according to some other loudmouth idiot in the distance, was just as crazed as Alex was. Whatever, he and the others would be marked for death too. Alex would kill every damn one of them if they came between him and his prize.
Unfortunately, Brennan kept his filthy hands on it.
Who the hell is he, holding what should be mine? Little insignificant bug. That weapon should be mine.
Alex was unable to see that the 'weapon' as he believed it to be, was little more than a piece of driftwood. But to him it was a murder instrument of heavenly appearance.
Brendon, Brenman, whatever his stupid name was, was smacking himself with the branch for some reason or other. With every 'thwack' and 'thud' Alex glared at him even more intently. He eyed Brennan, yeah that was it, intently. Absolute loser that he was, he had no right to hold a weapon when Alex had none.
So what if he killed Phil? Phil was already injured. It wasn't his own work. It meant nothing. Alex failed to see the hypocrisy in those thoughts, seeing as how he went through the same thing.
But hypocrisy wasn't going to get in the way. Nothing would. Brennan would die one way or another, and Alex would pry his new toy from the little bastard's cold dead fingers.
So caught up in his thoughts, and the hallucinations of blood and death all around him, Alex was completely oblivious to the fact that Brennan had charged them. He was oblivious to the fact that Jennifer likewise had gone ahead as well.
Alex was lost in his own world.
But not completely.
A single thought entered his head.
You are going to die if you don't move NOW.
He had no idea where that thought came from. He didn't care either. With that one thought, fear entered him. The sleep deprivation and fatigue had kept him lost in his mind. But that thought broke the spell long enough for him to realize that standing around with two armed people in front and a possibly angry person immediately behind him was a bad idea.
A look of pure fright was upon his face, and he stumbled backwards trying to get away.
Move. Live another day. You can't play if you're dead.
Much as he wanted a weapon, so badly, so very badly, Alexander Seymour wanted to live long enough to get that weapon. And even a wimp like Jimmy was dangerous to him right now. So Alex skirted back in fright. He wasn't going to die. Not if he could help it.
Survive. Survival above all. I don't wanna die. I don't want to die. I DO NOT WANT TO DIE!
Unfortunately, Brennan kept his filthy hands on it.
Who the hell is he, holding what should be mine? Little insignificant bug. That weapon should be mine.
Alex was unable to see that the 'weapon' as he believed it to be, was little more than a piece of driftwood. But to him it was a murder instrument of heavenly appearance.
Brendon, Brenman, whatever his stupid name was, was smacking himself with the branch for some reason or other. With every 'thwack' and 'thud' Alex glared at him even more intently. He eyed Brennan, yeah that was it, intently. Absolute loser that he was, he had no right to hold a weapon when Alex had none.
So what if he killed Phil? Phil was already injured. It wasn't his own work. It meant nothing. Alex failed to see the hypocrisy in those thoughts, seeing as how he went through the same thing.
But hypocrisy wasn't going to get in the way. Nothing would. Brennan would die one way or another, and Alex would pry his new toy from the little bastard's cold dead fingers.
So caught up in his thoughts, and the hallucinations of blood and death all around him, Alex was completely oblivious to the fact that Brennan had charged them. He was oblivious to the fact that Jennifer likewise had gone ahead as well.
Alex was lost in his own world.
But not completely.
A single thought entered his head.
You are going to die if you don't move NOW.
He had no idea where that thought came from. He didn't care either. With that one thought, fear entered him. The sleep deprivation and fatigue had kept him lost in his mind. But that thought broke the spell long enough for him to realize that standing around with two armed people in front and a possibly angry person immediately behind him was a bad idea.
A look of pure fright was upon his face, and he stumbled backwards trying to get away.
Move. Live another day. You can't play if you're dead.
Much as he wanted a weapon, so badly, so very badly, Alexander Seymour wanted to live long enough to get that weapon. And even a wimp like Jimmy was dangerous to him right now. So Alex skirted back in fright. He wasn't going to die. Not if he could help it.
Survive. Survival above all. I don't wanna die. I don't want to die. I DO NOT WANT TO DIE!