Jul. 25th, 2010

[identity profile] sl4irl.livejournal.com
Knife resting there on a table. He waited for the flush of snow but it didn't come. It probably didn't need to.

The blood had dried across the bare floorboards. Most of it had hit sawdust & soaked in instantly. He couldn't smell it.

'You understand, Mr. Snaggle, that if you get up out of that chair I will stab you through the heart.' Drago sound patient, perfectly calm.

A grin hidden behind the rictus mask.

'Well I should fucking well hope so.' )

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