Limp, Frank’s body lay on spread legs with his back supported by the wall. He looked no more alive than he really wasn’t: a lethargic state before re-awaking to AGONY. His hair’s matted in red clumps. Red spreads down his neck and Becky thinks he won’t be HAPPY about that. Oh no, sir! Red on his neck makes him a little SOUR, so it does!
His hands rest loosely in his lap, palms upturned as though awaiting a gift, fingers curled halfway like dead critters. Bruised. Battered. His left leg’s bent at an impossible angle, and one of his opened eyes is pushing too far against the slacked eyelid.
Rebecca’s voice comes in the form of a pathetic whimper. She shouldn’t have come here. He warned her it was too dangerous but he was taking so LONG. He said he could HANDLE it!
Gotta go! Gotta go! Can’t leave him but gotta go!
She dives. Makes to move him with arms clasped around his mid-section, but it's like his body's been filled with wet sand and he hardly moves a few inches. His head flops, drops on her shoulder and his cheek feels like wet rubber against her own.
❛It’s o-okay... It’s okay❜, she whimpers and strokes her fingers through matted locks of his hair.❛I’m ruh-hight here. It’s okay... I’ll g-get y-you out of h-huh-here.❜
A shrill WHISTLE from behind her. Makes her ears RING. She goes white. Then whiter yet when the voice confirms the culprit of that dreadful noise.
Gotta go! Gotta go! Gotta go!
Except she stays rooted in place. Looks over her shoulder and feels her bladder TIGHTEN. The MONSTER’s right though. They wandered TOO FAR. Frank WARNED her! You'd think this place was the size of a football field sometimes!
Gotta go! Gotta go! Gotta go!
❛Yuh-yeah…”, she croaks. “I’ll go. I’ll go, I sh-should – WE’ll go…!❜
romaincrisis
kaledo-art
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