#grimerse

[barksback]

@grimerse said: [ . . . ]

THE SNITCH HAS BEEN EXECUTED, fried to absolute oblivion as instructed. he’d begged and bargained the entire trek across the police station; with every key found within staged corpses, the man became more desperate, fighting the restraints despite knowing his fate. burlap-muffled sobs were quickly replaced with agonized screams as lever was pulled, electricity surging through the execution chamber, crackling through meat and bone until the screaming finally stopped. lever was released, and corpse sagged against its restraints. he’s nothing more than another prop to be strung up somewhere in the station, now. another trophy . . . or perhaps a warning to those who dare to question easterman’s truth.

IT’LL BE YOU IN THIS CHAIR SOMEDAY. YOU- YOU KNOW THAT, RIGHT?

jake can still feel / see / hear it, even from the safety of the shuttle. hair on blood-caked arms stands on end, residual from the exposed nerve that is sergeant coyle and his damned shock baton. the snitch- he could’ve been anyone in the facility. now that jake really thinks of it, he did see someone being restrained over by the pharmacy not too long ago. if he tries hard enough, will he remember that face?

he isn’t sure if he wants to.

i’ve decided we’re going to be great friends, by the way.

reagent blinks back into himself, dark eyes snapping from the screen ( solid A; much better than he thought ) to the woman sitting across from him. she looks the same as he imagines himself right now: blood smeared this way and that, covering her hands and arms; hair a completely frazzled mess; various cuts, bruises and burns sprouting across pale skin. she’s staring expectantly, searching for something he now keeps contained; he’s eerily calm, expression cold and unreadable despite his aggression in the station ( favoring bricks and glass bottles above all else when coyle put his rig on the fritz ). you’re shit out of luck, i’m not interested in making friends here.

the shuttle halts, and jake stands. ‘ mmh. i’m sure you have, ‘ he mutters, before slinking past alessa and through the door.