#this is like. kinda implied to be during the courtroom scene in the new colossus

[savior-of-humanity]

A gentle breeze brushed against BJ's cheeks. There was the faint sensation of hands, perhaps having been as scarred as could be, tracing along his jawline, and the feeling of thumbs rubbing his cheekbones. There was the faint sound of chatter from days of old that graced his ears, and almost seemed like a usually serious, yet now cheery voice beckoned him from behind, 'Agent Blazkowicz.' And yet, as quickly as such a comforting feeling arrived like he was back in London, in 1946, it was gone with the wind, besides for just one more thing. 'Count to four.'

@agcnt1ne

-- Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Blazcowikz stood over his usual handiwork - the corpses of Nazi fucking bastards littering the floor around his feet, staining the red carpet an even deeper crimson. He trudged forward, boots crushing down on armor and skulls where he walked - he didn't care enough to bother stepping over them. They were all bastards, anyway; nothing more than dirt beneath his feet.

The breeze, however, made him pause.

The infamous Terror Billy stopped in his tracks as he felt the almost ghostly touch trace over his jawline, over his cheeks. And for the briefest of moments, he thought he was back there. In London, with him. Oh god, Welsey...

And just as quick as it had occured, he snapped back to reality - or was it unreality? He couldn't tell. Everything felt like he was walking through a thick haze, now. But those final words never left his mind - much like when they'd been spoken to him all those years ago.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.