Split Second (Self)
Christopher had had more than enough of this party. The more people he talked to, the weirder and more inept he felt. Why couldn’t he be normal and just enjoy the party like the rest of them? The food was great, the entertainment was top-notch, and the champagne was flowing like water - a fact he was all too aware of, though both time and cool air had helped to clear his head a little. And that was before the bodies had been found, at which point, Christopher decided to high-tail it out of here, friends or no friends. Of course, he hadn’t driven here so that meant a walk, which seemed reasonable at first to his compromised judgment, but was quickly becoming a plan with no real sense to it.
Like, at all.
Hobbling on the road back to town, he was beginning to realize that this was a ridiculous idea. Today was a good day as far as his legs were concerned - had he been at home, he would’ve attempted to forgo the crutches. Still, the alcohol had done its number on him, and his already-unsteady gait was further rocked before he decided to stop and think for once, something he didn’t want to do. He didn’t want to think of the corpses, or of the burgeoning panic that had begun to overtake the party-goers when he had begun to make his mistake. He was beginning to regret his decision when he heard a group of voices approaching him.
At first he was thrilled, but then something occurred to him - why would anyone be walking to the party? People were dead; it was not a place to be. And in the back of his mind, he still knew - those deaths had been far too unnatural to be anything but man made. Now, Christopher never had considered himself a book-smart man, but his intuition had only failed him once, and right now, it was telling him to get out of the road, out of sight. He hesitated at first - he was both a witch and a former soldier - but he was also half-crippled, and he possessed neither a high grasp of his magick nor a working firearm (the only thing that he would’ve trusted at the moment).
His heart pounded at his ribcage, and before it was too late to change his mind, Christopher changed direction, manuevering himself to the side of the road. A second’s thought, and as the voices seemed to grow closer, he hid behind a tree. If these were people he knew, he was going to feel like a real loser, but then again, they probably already thought that. Regardless, he leaned up against the tree and waited. Christopher swallowed, or tried to but his mouth was dry. When the voices were parallel to his position on the road after some time, he risked a peek - there was a group of men and women, with dulled lanterns. He couldn’t make out the specifics of the conversation, as their voices were hushed - but they didn’t sound very pleasant. And it was then that he saw it - the glint of weapons from the reflection of the lanterns, as he peeked his head out carefully from his hiding place.
It took him a moment to place it, and for a moment, Christopher thought he was in the middle of a bad memory. There were people with guns approaching the party where there had just been multiple murders. This wasn’t a memory, nor was it a reality he wanted to deal with. It occurred to Christopher that he was in so far over his head it wasn’t funny. He squeezed his eyes shut and ducked back behind the tree. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be happening...
Christopher did the only thing he could think of. He breathed. A deep breath, shaky and unsteady at first. A few seconds later, the shaking that threatened to overtake him subsided, and he took another peek. He could definitely see the outline of weapons on almost all the people in the group, and unbidden, the story of the witch hunters crashing the masquerade so long ago came to mind. That story couldn’t be really true, could it? And it couldn’t be happening again?
He was sweating now, a few drops beginning to collect on the back of his neck. Christopher was the only one out here, which meant any confrontation with these people, whoever they were, would inevitably turn against him. No one would know any better of the young airbender. Then again, no one knew of these people either...
Lungs constricted as his stomach seemed to leap into his throat. No one at the party knew about the armed group - and with people already panicking, that could end badly.
He could either keep on going or return to the party. Pressing onward would mean safety for himself, but going back might mean safety for everyone else. Tears came to his eyes as he tried to convince himself to go home while he could, let other people take care of this. Christopher couldn’t do a damned thing. He looked in the direction of town when a memory came to his mind’s eye, unbidden: Christopher standing in front of the autoshop for his interview, anxious yet knowing that nothing would happen unless he made it so. Getting that job had been a huge step for Christopher then, a victory over the vicious mood swings that had almost consumed him back then. He had only himself to thank when he got the job, and he had been so proud. He had been a man of action, if only for a moment.
And he couldn’t stop now. Not when this had the potential to affect everyone. He closed his eyes, and tried to figure out what exactly to do.
“Look, in the forest over there,” he heard all of a sudden.
Christopher froze. He was still behind the tree - had they really seen or heard him? He could feel his hands start to tremble again, the grip on his crutches slippery now with sweat. He had mde his decision, but if they came to investigate and were hostile, well, that wouldn’t do him much good. All he could do was wait, and...
...listen as the footsteps went the other way?
Christopher poked his head out, hoping that he wouldn’t get a bullet to the brain for his risk. Instead, he saw the group heading into the forest on the other side of the small road. Christophe exhaled, almost unable to believe in his good luck, and with only a second’s hesitation, began to hobble back to the lodge and the party to warn everyone. Maybe he was sealing his fate, he thought, but if he did nothing, he was most certainly doing so, and Christopher wasn’t ready for that yet.