A simple four-letter word that ignited a fire of revolution in his gut was now the source of the searing fire that radiated from the same place. Perhaps he should have left after his initial introduction and destruction, but the adrenaline was pumping and he was finally letting all the repressed emotions come to the surface, so time seemed to slip away from him.
They tried talking to him, talking him down from the proverbial ledge that he stood at the precipice of. What a joke that was. Then, bullets. The slugs collapsed in on themselves as they made contact with his person, his superhuman strength no match for the simple ammunition. Hell, even going toe-to-toe with the woman in the green glowing exosuit was quite a workout if anything, but it still didn’t phase him. After deciding to depart for the night, he turned back to get a look at the woman’s face to commit it to memory. Much to his surprise, she wasn’t bluffing about the lead bullets. He heard a single shot ring out, and rather than dodge it, Rok moved to face the woman more fully, hoping to prove a point about the useless ammunition they were using. That is, until he felt the intense pain blossom in his side.
Immediately, he turned to run, clicking a small button that had felt like a rock in his pocket all night. An explosion rang out, putting a blazing inferno between him and those trying to take him down, giving him ample time to escape into the shadows. He was grateful for the close proximity to the park he used to sleep in, and Rok fought the urge to close his eyes and succumb with each step. Taking shelter on the Eastern side of the bandshell, the orange-yellow light from the pathway barely illuminated the Daxamite as he pulled his hands away from his gut to see a dark sheen covering the entirety of his skin. “Shit.” His voice was barely a whisper as his head fell back against the concrete, ripping the mask from his face before haphazardly stuffing it in his pocket, trading it for his phone. With a few quick swipes, the phone was ringing, Camille’s face on the screen beneath bloody fingerprints. It went to voicemail and his throat tightened. This was it. He was going to die, alone.
“Camille, hey.” His voice broke before continuing. “I — I’m in the park. East end of the bandshell. I need you, now.” Rok felt his energy draining, his consciousness slipping as the lead continued to poison his system. As the darkness pulled him under, he prayed Camille would find him in time.
@catchmeifyoucanxcamille || post-event; closed
