❛ shunt . shove my muse backwards .
SHUNT . shove my muse backwards .
The human had put up a significant resistance, running, fighting, evading the shape of death that had come to claim him with an iron grip and chilling gaze. But the Tyrant was never more than a step behind. There was no place he could hide that T-00 would not find him, no distance he could put between them that would ensure his safety. No- the impulse to complete its mission, to finish the hunt was written into the grim behemoth’s DNA.
Giant hands in black leather gripped the edges of the miniscule doorframe as it bowed through, passing into an empty hallway. The rain battered the windows on the opposite wall, a light outside casting streaking shadows of the droplets into the interior. One of the infected growled faintly from around the corner, a noise the Tyrant would have ignored were it not for the distinct sound of a struggle that followed. A distinct scent bloomed in the air- uncontaminated blood.
Without pause, T-00 followed the noise down the hall and around the corner, where it found its prey- standing over the body of his undead assailant. He didn’t appear to notice the dark figure looming behind him, at least not until the Tyrant took a step to close the gap.
The man whirled around, small hands instinctively shooting up to brace into T-00′s torso as he attempted to shove his pursuer back- however he only succeeded in shoving himself away, nearly to the floor as he stumbled over the body in his haste. He may as well have tried to push the wall, for how little the attempt disturbed the Tyrant’s balance. It thought nothing about the paltry display of self preservation, lifting its gloved fist for a killing blow.
