"I've been told I only have a few months to live..."
“Am I supposed to feel bad for you?”
Paul slips out a pocket knife, pushing it against the boy’s throat. “Stop it!” He turns the knife and plunged it into one of the boy’s hands. “You’re going to die anyway! Why not now right?” He ripped out the knife and plunged it into the boy’s chest now. ”You better start praying!”
He just stands there, uncaring about what was going to happen. Not allowing any satisfaction. A final fuck you type of thing. The knife that went into his hand did make him bite his lip hard. It still hurt like hell”You are making a mistake, dumbass” The knife plunged but it didn’t go as deep as Paul would’ve liked. His good hand had grabbed the wrist and applied pressure to it, sharp nails digging into skin as his teeth grew sharper.
"The disease wasn’t the only thing I got from my father." And he bit at Paul’s face with the breaking and jagged teeth.
Paul smiled to himself as he seemed to have the upper hand. Until sharp teeth were biting into his face. He punched the boy in the face, taking the knife out of the boy’s chest. He started swinging it to hit something, anything, to get the teeth off of him. “Let go you piece of shit!”
It hurt bad when the knife was pulled out. At least he knew he was alive though but he dreaded to think it did stab into something that may be critical. He was punched hard and hit and finally he pulled away, licking the blood from his lips and teeth.
He lowers himself, growling at him. "You could die here if you want or you can just stand down and work for me. Your choice, oh and I will take in that idiot brother of yours to and won't insult him."
