That's not fucking batman
Something that's probably noticeable on my dash is that I loveeee outsiders pov to fucking everything.
And for this I want you to imagen your a goon. Forget what this post started with you and a newly deemed goon for some-fucks supply or run chain.
You see batman. The dark cascasteing hunter of the knight with foot falls that ring in your ears as you watch him loom over the building down into the Ally. To see upon all your flesh and rot, and taste the mangled shame and horror in the air.
"FUCK!" Someone else yell, breaking you out of the forrzen state as your legs move before your mind can. You hear the clear shots of a gun, a hand pistol if you rember right, filling the air. You just pray who ever fired the shots will be alive next shift.
The gun fire is loud and exploited and you nearly regret takeing the job. You should have just stolen some shitty cloths and waited till one of the birds came to help. Sat on a roof till they noticed you, anything but this.
You almost don't notice the fact that theirs more then normal. That it's following behind you.
You've lead it in.
You twist upon your heel the sudden brazen knowledge that you die here no matter what happens tonight, hand on your pistol and-
It's not their.
It should be their!
Your not insane, you can count your hands, can feel the brick wall that feels like its pressing into your chest, it should be *right their*!
"Hey!" Sarah, oh god Sarah, comes to a sidding hat infrot of you. Clearly used to calming down the newer Goons as she starts breathing extracdly the moment you can see her. "Your okay. You made it out. Your alright!" It almost sounds like a joke. Some sort of hazeing that new guys go through. Fuck it might aswell be.
"Sarah come on!" Todd shouts and he's up a fire escape. It's easier to see know, to think, and clearly you can see Todd leaning over a rail and Sarah's pinned fave as she goses to yell at hime before blood splatters your eyes.
"THATS Not-" Todd's voice yells, creaks ad cracks and gurggles out. You can't see, you can see but you can hear it pressing closer. Ever ever closer, it's foot falls echoing in your ming laughing at the fact you die tonight.
It's like the hullinactoins. Expect you can hear the gun click ad feel it press against your temple and the heat that poors off them.
Then the muzzle pulls away.
You crack a eye open, mabye just so the last thing you see isn't the darkness of your own eye lids, and stare down the blanket flickering mass that stares.
*mabye it will kill me*, you dint know if it's a prayer or plea but the thought muddle past your lips as the soft click of combat boots rings against puddles from last night's rain.
You close your eyes till you can't hear them. Becuses your not dumbenough to not pretend it's allowing itself to be heard.
