[Wade shifts closer to him, feeling that strained breath of laughter vibrate through Stephen's body like a dying man's final paroxysms. He feels the man relax, feels him go slack in his arms-- not so much out of any measure of trust, but more in a sense that tells Wade that he's finally given up. That he's done fighting.
There's something to be envied about that.
He grins a cynical grin, even as he inwardly prepares; strengthens his resolve for what's to come.]
Don't thank me yet. You haven't seen the bill.
[His arm across Stephen's neck tightens, tightens until he thinks he can feel the other man's ribs shift slightly. His other hand gains stronger purchase on his employer's head. It comes so naturally to him that he finds himself distracted, thinking of the past.
Worm. Cable. Yet another number added to the already impossibly large list.
A swift jerk and a sharp, sickening crack, and Stephen's body goes limp, sagging against Wade as if in relief. A low, rasping sigh exits his lungs-- a sound that is final and disturbing and all too familiar.
It probably says something about him that he prefers a man's death rattle over the sudden all-encompassing silence.
After a few moments, Wade gently lets go of the corpse, laying it down in such a way that it looks like the man is merely sleeping. He doesn't feel grief. He doesn't feel anger or sorrow or really much of anything except a sudden weariness. And as he rises from the floor to make his way back to whatever meager civilization is left, he can't help but toss one last remark over his shoulder, his voice sounding strange and distant in the cold, lonely alcove:]
no subject
There's something to be envied about that.
He grins a cynical grin, even as he inwardly prepares; strengthens his resolve for what's to come.]
Don't thank me yet. You haven't seen the bill.
[His arm across Stephen's neck tightens, tightens until he thinks he can feel the other man's ribs shift slightly. His other hand gains stronger purchase on his employer's head. It comes so naturally to him that he finds himself distracted, thinking of the past.
Worm. Cable. Yet another number added to the already impossibly large list.
A swift jerk and a sharp, sickening crack, and Stephen's body goes limp, sagging against Wade as if in relief. A low, rasping sigh exits his lungs-- a sound that is final and disturbing and all too familiar.
It probably says something about him that he prefers a man's death rattle over the sudden all-encompassing silence.
After a few moments, Wade gently lets go of the corpse, laying it down in such a way that it looks like the man is merely sleeping. He doesn't feel grief. He doesn't feel anger or sorrow or really much of anything except a sudden weariness. And as he rises from the floor to make his way back to whatever meager civilization is left, he can't help but toss one last remark over his shoulder, his voice sounding strange and distant in the cold, lonely alcove:]
See you when I see you, boss. Maybe.