Marvin is wrestling with the blade at his throat, tears streaming down his face as he feels more and more pressure on his neck. He can't do this for much longer.
Smiling, Anti presses harder. A thin line of gold sings from his brother's neck as he finally gets to the skin, pushing and pushing and pushing, ignoring Marvin's cries, ignoring Marvin's pleads, ignoring Marvin's... Marvin's...
Finally he stops fighting. He doesn't have it in him to keep it up anymore, and he falls still. His clouded eyes are wild, searching back and forth, tears still cascading down his skin as he lays limp on the ground, his hands gently clasping where Anti's hold the knife.
A wider smile, more pressure to the blade. This is it. Marvin will finally be gone, everything he's waited for, all these years. He can finally have his fun.
Marvin lets out a soft noise, almost like a whine. His eyes slowly close as he feels the knife pressing down into his skin, slowly, hesitantly, this is it, he’s dying here, but it’s okay. It’s okay.
"You're not fighting." Anti says, falling as corpse as his brother.
"I am not fighting." Marvin replies, his voice very gentle. Very quiet.
Anti's eyes dart from the gold blood back up to the closed eyes of his brother. He isn't fighting. Why isn't he fighting.
“Morilius...” Antavriel growls, pressing onto the knife again. “Fight back.”
Marvin’s voice comes again, barely a whisper now. “No.”
Morilius opens his eyes, staring straight into a pair he cannot see— yet he knows are staring straight back. “Let me bleed.” he says.
But Antavriel is no longer there, wiping on his shirt his fingertips stained in gold.
