80: Really Bad Pics

(originally posted 03/22/2012)


(These pics are really.... bad. I almost want to take them out completely and just write it out the old fashioned way.)

John

As soon as I get outside, Hugh catches my eye. I go and talk to him around the corner of the building as men start to move in already.

Wow, they must be just as happy to get this guy as I am! We're going to swarm this place! I look around and although the casual observer wouldn't notice, there are people stationed everywhere and moving in. One of the better things of a large city is the large police force it can support. Of course, they need it too.

When it's finally my turn to go, the fighting has already started on the lower levels. My pizza guy uniform helps me to some extent. I do what I can to cut through everything... my goal being the top level.

When I get off the elevator at the top (I can't believe it either.. the elevator? But I was ready just in case.), I nearly trip over a blonde girl in the hallway because she's lying dead right in front of the doors. There's a redhead crying over her. I ignore them both, and they ignore me.


(Non-cooperative expressions, and I was rushed and a little too lazy to get the right ones. Bah. And you have to imagine the gun.. basically this is a terrible pic lol.)

I barge into what I assume is the master bedroom and duck immediately. Good thing because Trent had opened fire. I see a scream is trapped in Elena's throat as he shoves her off to the side. Trent looks really p*ssed to see me in the pizza boy uniform. Hah!


Trent: Well done, Parren. Pizza boy and I didn't even see it. Not often someone pulls something over on me like that.
Me: Please tell me you're not going to come quietly.
The side of Trent's mouth pulls back into a smirk: I wondered how long it would be until I saw you. I knew you'd be along sooner or later, but I have to say I'm a little surprised to see you this soon.
Me: You think we wouldn't know where "home" was, Trent White?
He momentarily looks surprised before he laughs: My, my you've done your homework.


Trent continues as I cut my eyes over to Elena: And I'm so glad because now I don't have to waste my breath telling you how much I hate you.
I look at him with a mock-confused expression: Oh? Seems to me that I would be the one hating YOU considering you kidnapped my fiancée.
Trent: Not part of the original plan.
Me: And how was Greg part of the original plan?
Trent makes a scoffing noise: That idiot. He was just a little too curious for his own good wondering why I was mourning at my brother's graveside.
Me: And him being found dead at that sh*thead's grave is what finally cracked it for us. Thanks.


Trent performs a slight mock-bow: Glad I could help. Still, his death cut my plans a little short. I'd intended to kill you and be the shoulder for Elena to cry on. I knew something was going to have to be done about him, however, since he's the one she really preferred.

Sore spot. He found it. Don't take the bait. Don't take the bait. Don't take the bait.

I take the bait... and punch him. Elena is mumbling, "no no no no".


Apparently, I hit a sore spot with him because he attacks me. I had not expected physical violence, but I happily welcome it. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Elena over in the corner on her knees holding her head and I'm presuming still mumbling no over and over again.

Just don't come over here and start defending him, my love, and everything will be okay.


She scares the crap out of me when she gets up and walks over to us. I have him in a choke hold and she looks like she wants to ...

Elena: John, stop! Let's just get out of here. I want to go home.

Thank God. I was worried I was going to have to restrain her to keep her from trying to help him.


Me: In a minute.

I knock Trent to the floor. Elena acts like she wants to embrace me right then and there, but I see Trent get a gun out from the back of his pants.

Both he and I say at the same time: Elena, get out of the way.

Her face pales and she mutely backs off. She starts freaking out. Stressful situations have never been easy for her.


My own gun is out before Trent can even raise his.

Trent laughs: So, how should we do this, John? Twenty paces?

I fire, and he clutches his chest.

Me: I don't have to follow all the rules, Laurie.

Elena faints, and The Boss falls down dead.

(Oh em gee, what a limp way to hold a gun. lmbo!)


I lean down over Elena, and make sure she's only just fainted. She has. Even before I can touch her face, she starts to come around.

Elena: Oh thank God you're okay.
I smile in spite of everything: I could say the same thing about you.
I wonder if you really are though?

She acts like she wants to stand, and I help her up.


Once she's on her feet, we stand there and stare at one another.

Is she okay? Is she going to hate me for killing him? Is she going to faint again?

Suddenly, she throws her arms around my neck.

I gratefully wrap my arms around her.

Finally.

She's shaking like a leaf.

Oh Elena ... my Elena. I did it. You're safe.


You're safe.

I slightly pull her away from me so I can look for myself to see that she really is alright. Then, I place my hands on either side of her face and kiss every square inch of it, over and over, really fast.


The only reason I stop doing that is because she captures my mouth with her own.

I can't seem to hold her tight enough. She feels so willowy in my arms that I'm afraid she could slip away if I lessen my grip. I never want this kiss to end. Every time she acts like she's going to pull away the slightest bit, I hold her to me all the more.

It's only when I fear she's in danger of fainting again that I finally back off.


Me: Let's get out of here.

She sighs and moves her forehead to my shoulder. She's still shaking, so it's a moment before I realize she's crying. I just stroke the back of her head, over and over again, and let her get it out of her system.

Local officers come into the room. I reach behind me and pull out my SIA badge and show it to them. They ignore us after that and start doing their job. Elena has an iron grip on my jacket, and she's still sobbing as they come in to take pictures and finally cart that jacka*s's body away.

I lean down and speak softly in her ear: We need to go. Are you okay to walk?
She pulls back slightly, sniffs and nods: Yes. Of course I am.

I find out later that she's not as she trips and nearly falls down the stairs. I carry her from then on out whether she wants me to or not.