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The world simply stopped moving—

Everything had happened too quickly—

The guard’s murder—

The boss’s movement—

The gang’s compliance—

His forced submission—

The train’s arrival—

His retinas burned with the blurred image of the train, of its headlight, of its speed, of its threat, and of its wheels, only centimeters from his nose, traveling the tracks in front of him.  His shoulders burned with his will to continue, his choice to live.

The pain didn’t register; it happened so quickly.  The shock had overwhelmed his senses.  The crimson pool growing around him, warming his chest, brought him back.

He screamed.
©2008-2009 ~007-LoneHeartstring
:icon007-loneheartstring:

Author's Comments

Jumped forward a bit in time here. I don't think there would have been much point in conveying what happened any other way. My poor Ethan. How I torment him so.

9/29

Comments


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:icon007-felix-forever:
I like how you did the first bit. Seems fitting enough.
:icon007-loneheartstring:
Thanks a bunch. It took me a while to figure out how to pull this part off and convey the feelings I knew should be there and I finally settled on this.

--
What comes to pass when your last heartstring is torn?
:icon007-bloodyalaizabel:
Damn, it's getting so interesting. I love it.

--
Before you point fingers, make sure your hands are clean.

Love and be loved,
BloodyAlaizabel

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February 9, 2008
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