@markedprey said: [ tilt ]
he doesn't look up, even as johnny crouches down in front of him. bloodied hand comes away from his side, slowly, to support himself on hands and knees. it’s just that this time, he can’t find the strength to push himself off the ground again. battered, exhausted, and steadily bleeding out in this god-forsaken basement freezer— he isn’t feeling quite as brave as he had at the start. every part of him just hurts.
leland stares, pointedly, bitterly, at his own bruised hands. and johnny's shoes, and the blood drip-dripping to the floor — determined not to give the man the satisfaction, until the skinning knife settles under his jaw. leland tries not to flinch. swallowing against its cool edge, and letting his breath shudder out in a cloud of vapour. but the blade doesn’t dig — just teases, dragging up until it stops under his chin, tilting leland’s head up nearly gently. or mockingly. leland's face burns, angry and ashamed; now he has to look the son of a bitch in the eyes. there's a grim satisfaction in knowing, at least, that he hadn't made it easy for him. he put up a fight.
❝ go to hell. ❞ leland's eyes narrow below wet lashes, hateful, but glassy with pain. a sort of heavy, sickening sense of defeat. your friends — were they still alive somewhere, above the floorboards of this house? had you bought them some time? or had you failed them, too? ( — like you'd failed maria? ) his eyes sting worse, and brows crunch down to try and mitigate the tears — which fall anyway, dragging hotly down dirt-flecked cheeks. grief, anger, guilt — all of it making his stomach turn. this room is freezing, and tilting, and buzzing like tv static. all he can smell is the fucking rot.
❝ i'm not going to beg you for my life, ❞ he rasps, quietly. eyes flutter with another dizzy spell. it was pointless, all of it was. appealing to this insane bastard could save him for a minute, or a day. but he was completely alone, down here. what did it matter, now? ❝ just. tell me. ❞ his gaze falls, back to the chipped concrete under his trembling palms. ❝ ... did you kill her? ❞ teeth chatter against the cold, and he doesn't want to know, really. but he thinks he needs to. even if it's all over, now. even if it didn't matter. even if it's still hard to say her name. a beat, and his eyes lift to johnny's; ❝ maria. ❞














