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[lastafton]

| | | | |       @inhxuman   whispered       ::       😨

—   𝙷𝙴'𝚂   𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙶𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶,      𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁𝚂   𝙳𝚁𝙰𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙶   𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂   𝙾𝙽   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻.      Dark   red   streaks   on   brown   brick,      distinct   even   in   the   low   light   of   streetlamps   on   either   side   of   the   alley.      How   far   he   can   intend   to   get   he   couldn't   say,      not   in   this   state.

Barely   a   man,      this   one   ;         he's   got   split   knuckles      &&      a   busted   lip,      his   eyes   bright      &&      darting.      There   are   voices   pursuing   him,     shouting,     laughing.      He's   keen   in   a   fight,      brawler   by   nature,      but   this   shit's   got   out   of   hand      —-      a   pack   of   the   bastards,      a   knife,      hidden,      &&      he   was   lucky   to   get   away   with   his   life.

Everything   happened   so   fast,      turned   so   deadly.      Like   stepping   into   a   puddle   only   to   find   it's   a   hole   in   the   ground   sixteen   feet   deep,      &&      there   you   are   at   the   bottom,      drowning.      It   doesn't   matter   if   you   swim   like   a   fish.      You   aren't   getting   out.

Drip,      drip,      drip   ...   crimson   drops   are   forming   a   trail   to   him.      Even   if   the   bastards   didn't   know   where   he   went,      they   would   soon.      &&      what   will   he   do   then   ?      The   end   of   the   alley   is   near,      but   the   other   side   is   echoing   with   𝙻𝙰𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝚁.