“Don’t bother with the passport. It’s fake.”
He doesn’t check, just smiles smugly.
He’s too young, too eager: immaculate suit, shirt, tie; cute
haircut; sharp eyes; perfect muscles. That has to be his first body, top of the
range, very expensive. Me, I’m down to cast-offs. This flabby thing stinks, but it’s all I’ve got left.
That, two hundred years of experience, and a hidden blade.
“Ok, old ma—”
Evisceration. The best way to interrupt a man, or
fleshwalker.
As I leave he’s trying to shove his guts back in, blabbing
about how much that ruined meat cost him.
(Originally written for Lily Childs' Friday Prediction)
Well, he has youth on his side, now he's been shown that he has the guts too...
ReplyDeleteHa! =D Thanks, Steve. When you're on the run you just don't really have the time to get to the heart of the matter... ;)
ReplyDelete