At The End Of The Tunnel
folder
+S through Z › Sonic
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
28
Views:
4,170
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S through Z › Sonic
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
28
Views:
4,170
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Sonic The Hedgehog game series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Interrogation
~~~
At The End Of The Tunnel
Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and Froggy22651
~~~
Harley: This Chapter was almost entirely RPed between me and Froggy in a couple of hours, so it didn’t take long to type up.
Froggy: I just added the description to the dialogue.
Harley: And then I edited it a bit. Only a bit though. I love editing.
~~~
Chapter Five: Interrogation
James prodded his feline captive in the back with her own staff, guiding her towards Knothole Village. He had tightly bound her hands behind her and blindfolded her so that she would not know the way to the village; he had searched her for electronic tracking devices earlier and found none. It didn’t surprise him; Robotnik wouldn’t need them; the fear he instilled would be enough to keep his servants from trying to escape him.
He had taken extra special care in tying her fingers together so that she could not claw her way free, and he had paid for the effort. Her claws had dug into the palm of one hand all the way to the metal structure underneath.
The bounty hunter had been correct in identifying him as a cyborg. His robotization had not been reversed as his appearance suggested. It was a mask, a deception. The outside of him was cloned living tissue grafted onto the heavily modified and more lightweight than standard workerbot shell underneath. His metal body had been stripped of much of its armor plating, slimmed down, and modified for interaction and a symbiotic relationship with the living tissue. This gave him back all the senses he had taken for granted before his robotization as well as his normal, organic appearance.
It was robotization as Sir Charles Hedgehog had dreamed of it before Robotnik perverted his invention for evil. James was stronger and more durable than any mobian, although not as much as a standard workerbot or SWATbot. Of course, there were disadvantages to his condition; he could not float in water, and he was more sensitive to electromagnetic fields as his fight with the bounty hunter showed. This gift was the result of a deal he made with the young man who set him free.
James certainly had not expected to run into any of Robotnik’s mercenaries so early in his mission, and it was a most unwelcome setback. He knew of Nack the Weasel, if only by reputation. The male was a vicious bounty hunter who had ended the lives of numerous brave freedom fighters all in the name of money, often employing sneaky, underhanded tricks, traps, and his trademark sniper rifle. The female cat, however, was a mystery to the guardsman. He was not aware of Nack having any partners. She was obviously well trained as her fight with the guardsman had proven. Her weapon, a retractable metal quarterstaff with the ability to unleash electric charges, was a highly unusual weapon for a bounty hunter. She was strong, fast, agile, and apparently not completely organic, as her painful headbutt had demonstrated.
The two of them walked in silence, James occasionally prodding her to get her to pick up the pace. Soon enough, he had arrived back in Knothole, and he marched her straight into the village prison, where he had her placed safely behind bars. With the bounty hunter taken care of, the fox made his way to the medical center to have his wounds cleaned and patched up. As he did so, he wondered what to do now that his mission had been so abruptly interrupted. The sensible thing to do would be to notify the freedom fighters of the captured bounty hunter, and warn them about Nack’s escape, and continue on his way. James didn’t always do the sensible thing.
His curiosity got the better of him. The bounty hunter could have had important information about the cult he was ordered to track down… and she could possibly shed some light on other questions that had been troubling the Captain of the Royal Guard.
His mind made up, James walked back to the prison and entered, informing the guards stationed there that he wished to speak with the prisoner. They had no objections. He hung his cloak up and walked over the cell where the feline was contained. She was trying to file her way through the metal bars of her cell window with her claws. He cleared his throat and pulled up a wooden stool to sit on, facing her.
“I thought of that already. There are guards standing just outside the window,” he informed her.
The feline turned around and sneered at him, “Thanks for the warning,” she said sourly.
“Don’t mention it.”
The vulpine tilted his head slightly and observed the cat for a long, quiet moment. The dark color of her fur and leather clothing only enhanced the feeling of hostility that oozed from her. She held herself well with the posture of a dancer or a professional warrior, light on her feet. Her body was slender and her muscles had been toned by the harsh physical demands of her profession. She was a little shorter than most Mobian felines, but not terribly so. James might have even found her attractive, had she not been sneering constantly at him.
“Not many people can detect a Royal Guard closing in on them. I’m impressed,” he said, trying to start a conversation.
“We cats have good hearing,” she answered, sitting on a chair with a broken back. A short reply. She didn’t seem keen to open up.
James leaned forward and rested his chin in his paws, “You are one of Julian’s mercenaries, correct?”
“How did you guess?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“The tags around your neck, mainly. What was a pair of mercenaries doing roaming around the Great Forest? Looking for Knothole so that you could kill us for a profit?”
“Well, duh,” she replied mockingly, “And we found you… well, sort of.”
The casual way she answered disturbed James. The fact that anyone could disregard anyone’s life, even that of an enemy, made him feel ill. He narrowed his eyes.
“So our lives are nothing but price tags to you?”
“You would see it that way,” The feline paused for a moment, her gaze locking with his, “Why do you keep asking me questions which you already know the answers to?”
“I’m gauging your reactions, of course. And I’m trying to understand why anyone would be crazy enough to work for that bloated monster. What’s in it for you?”
“Are you trying to be… friendly?”
Her question surprised the guardsman. Not so much the question itself, but how it was delivered, as if she couldn’t even comprehend the possibility.
“Maybe not friendly, but certainly civil.”
“Faugh!” the cat spat at him, the calm, questioning demeanor gone, “You’re just trying to lull me into a false sense of security so that I give over all my information without a fuss! Forget it, Prower, if I tell you anything, my life isn’t worth piss back in Mobo- uh, Robotropolis.”
“It doesn’t seem to be worth anything anyway,” he said dryly, “Your ‘comrade’, Nack, didn’t seem to have any qualms about leaving you behind to save himself.”
“I can't blame him. It's what I would have done. And he's probably tailed you here. Maybe he'll break me out, maybe he'll leave me here for you and your sicko pals to fuck, but he'll head back to Robotnik and your stinking terrorist shithole will be dust within a week.”
James sat up, reeling back in surprise, his eyes widening. That she could even suggest such a thing of him and his friends offended him at a very deep level, tearing away a carefully constructed mental barrier to aggravate his volatile temper.
“Excuse me,” he snarled, “I don’t know what you’ve been brainwashed to believe, but we don’t torture our enemies, unlike that sick fuck you work for! We actually value life here, and we never leave anyone behind! This ‘stinking terrorist shithole’ is the last hope for this planet, and I’ll be damned if it gets taken down by some opportunistic bounty hunter scumbag!”
“Could’ve fooled me…”
“Considering how much of a fool you are proving to be, it probably wouldn’t be very difficult. Unless you want to stay in that cell for a very, very long time, I suggest you adjust your attitude. Tell me… what do you know about this cult that your boss had been employing?”
“I don’t know anything.”
“Uh huh. Right. Sure, I believe you.” he said, his turn to be sarcastic.
Suddenly, her self-control seemed to rush away, and she jumped up from her seat, “I told you, I don't know squat about your cult! I'm not important enough to know anything! There are maintenance droids that are more important than me! I'm a merc, I'm expendable!” she shouted at him.
Expendable. That word struck a chord within James. His anger faded, and his expression softened.
“No one is expendable,” he spoke quietly.
The cat looked at him, “Shit, this is gonna be just like last time. Fetch your red-hot poker already!”
Suddenly, James saw something in her he hadn’t before. The sneering, the defiance, the disrespect and the anger…it was all a front, a shield, a deception to hide the fact that she was afraid of him. Genuinely, honestly afraid of him.
“…You really believe I intend to hurt you.”
“You really believe your Royal Guard is so noble and good?” she said, shuddering as if disgusted by the words.
“The fact that they were is irrelevant, considering your boss slaughtered them all but me. They were… expendable to him and his plans.”
A wicked smile crept over the feline’s face, “I know… He let me watch.”
James squeezed his eyes shut and tried to forget that he just heard that. His eyes opened again.
“Is that what you want to be, bounty hunter? An expendable pawn to be disposed of when you’re no longer of any use, or just if Robotnik needs some amusement?” he asked her.
“And you think the Royal Guard wasn't expendable to Max?” the cat retorted, “When you play a game of chess, you have to sacrifice a few pawns. Sometimes all of them.”
“True, sometimes, you have to send good people to their deaths. It’s part of being a leader. But it doesn't make anyone ‘expendable’. It doesn't mean people don't matter. It’s a hard decision for Max, because he cares about and values those who serve him. Julian... he doesn't give a damn about anyone but himself, and he'll send people to die for his own twisted amusement.”
The cat’s shield was back up. Her eyes narrowed, her tail twitched, and her voice came out a growl. Anger boiled up from within her, which she directed at her captor.
“At least I know Julian's a fucking bastard! You seem to think that the sun shines out of Max’s ass! Who employed a fucking Overlander to oversee his entire military procedures? Who sent the Royal Guard to fight an impossible battle? Who had prisoners tortured for information? Max!”
Guilt clawed away at the vulpine’s guts.
“I sent the Guard to fight that battle in the hopes that maybe we could save someone by sacrificing ourselves,” he admitted quietly. He leaned forward, closer to the bars of her cell. “King Acorn may have his flaws, but he never, ever authorized the torturing of prisoners.”
“Tell it to the scars!”
“You’re lying, and I don’t care for it.”
The cat suddenly shrugged her black leather jacket off, baring her arms to him. He could see that those arms were covered in various deep and ugly scars that peeked through her fur.
“You think I did this to myself?” the feline demanded.
“Maybe. It’s more likely than Max doing it.”
“You wanna see the ones on my back?”
Before James could respond, the cat spun around and unzipped the top of her tight bodysuit, showing him her back, which was covered in a breathtaking array of horrendous scars that were obviously inflicted purposefully with the intent of causing suffering. In the middle of her back, a heart was carved into it with ‘CF & BL 4EVA’ sliced into the center. The guardsman’s jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and he felt like throwing up. What kind of sick, sadistic bastard could possibly do such a thing?
“Good gods…” he whispered.
“One of your asswipe torturers did that to me, to try and get me to admit to spying. I was 15! I didn’t know squat about Robotnik’s intended coup! But your men dragged me in off the streets and threw me in a cell and broke out the red-hot pokers!”
James shook his head slowly in a daze, his eyes fixed on the mass of scars, “No… I don’t believe it…”
“Believe what you want. I got some on my ass as well.”
With that, the bounty hunter zipped the suit back up, mercifully concealing the horrific scars from the fox. James gathered his thoughts and found his voice. He needed to know who was responsible.
“Who are CF and BL?”
“It’s none of your fucking business, Royal Guard,” she spat at him, the words laced with contempt.
“Humor me and tell me who your torturers were, Traitor,” James replied, the same note of contempt in his voice.
“Maybe you could start by giving me a yearbook.”
“Unfortunately, I think Julian burned them all,” James replied dryly.
“Well, they didn’t exactly stop to give me their names.”
“Whoever they were, they were no guardsmen of mine. They were better than that.”
“Huh… well, I’d hate to spoil your rose-colored view of the world,” She paused for a moment before tentatively addressing him again, “So… you’re not gonna break out the rusty knives?” she asked.
“No,” he said, shaking his head sharply, “I’m not a monster like Julian.”
“You’re…different.”
She paused again, her expression softening as she looked over the fox on the other side of the bars, as if seeing something new in him. But the hard, cold expression returned.
“But you’re still a Royal Guard. If I had my way, every one of you would be dead. Robotnik must've just been feeling particularly... well, merciful isn't the word, is it? Irate? Evil? Vicious? When he spared your life. Shame.”
James glared at her.
“Yes. It is. I often wish he killed me, too.”
The conversation was over. James reached over beside him and picked up a still-steaming tray with a rather tasty looking steak dinner in it. It was very good for prison food; steak was hard to come by. He figured her to be the carnivorous type. He slid it under her cell door.
“Here, I brought you this. Sorry about the lack of utensils, but we have a policy about giving prisoners sharp objects.”
The guardsman got to his feet, turned toward the exit, and began to walk away. But the captive bounty hunter had something left to say.
“Don’t worry. If I had a sharp object, I’d put it through your eyeball and kill you quick, not carve my initials into your back like you’re some kind of trophy to claim. I’m not a monster… like Max.”
James froze in his tracks, her words rolling around inside his head. He needed to get out, get some fresh air. He needed to talk to Max about this. He needed some time to think about things.
As he passed through the door and into the village, his ears twitched as she added one final line to her last statement, so quiet that it was almost a whisper: “And neither are you…”
~~~
End of Chapter Five
Harley: Now get your ass over to Chapter Six. I get to kill people in that one!
Froggy: What is it with you and untimely death?
Harley: It smells good.
At The End Of The Tunnel
Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and Froggy22651
~~~
Harley: This Chapter was almost entirely RPed between me and Froggy in a couple of hours, so it didn’t take long to type up.
Froggy: I just added the description to the dialogue.
Harley: And then I edited it a bit. Only a bit though. I love editing.
~~~
Chapter Five: Interrogation
James prodded his feline captive in the back with her own staff, guiding her towards Knothole Village. He had tightly bound her hands behind her and blindfolded her so that she would not know the way to the village; he had searched her for electronic tracking devices earlier and found none. It didn’t surprise him; Robotnik wouldn’t need them; the fear he instilled would be enough to keep his servants from trying to escape him.
He had taken extra special care in tying her fingers together so that she could not claw her way free, and he had paid for the effort. Her claws had dug into the palm of one hand all the way to the metal structure underneath.
The bounty hunter had been correct in identifying him as a cyborg. His robotization had not been reversed as his appearance suggested. It was a mask, a deception. The outside of him was cloned living tissue grafted onto the heavily modified and more lightweight than standard workerbot shell underneath. His metal body had been stripped of much of its armor plating, slimmed down, and modified for interaction and a symbiotic relationship with the living tissue. This gave him back all the senses he had taken for granted before his robotization as well as his normal, organic appearance.
It was robotization as Sir Charles Hedgehog had dreamed of it before Robotnik perverted his invention for evil. James was stronger and more durable than any mobian, although not as much as a standard workerbot or SWATbot. Of course, there were disadvantages to his condition; he could not float in water, and he was more sensitive to electromagnetic fields as his fight with the bounty hunter showed. This gift was the result of a deal he made with the young man who set him free.
James certainly had not expected to run into any of Robotnik’s mercenaries so early in his mission, and it was a most unwelcome setback. He knew of Nack the Weasel, if only by reputation. The male was a vicious bounty hunter who had ended the lives of numerous brave freedom fighters all in the name of money, often employing sneaky, underhanded tricks, traps, and his trademark sniper rifle. The female cat, however, was a mystery to the guardsman. He was not aware of Nack having any partners. She was obviously well trained as her fight with the guardsman had proven. Her weapon, a retractable metal quarterstaff with the ability to unleash electric charges, was a highly unusual weapon for a bounty hunter. She was strong, fast, agile, and apparently not completely organic, as her painful headbutt had demonstrated.
The two of them walked in silence, James occasionally prodding her to get her to pick up the pace. Soon enough, he had arrived back in Knothole, and he marched her straight into the village prison, where he had her placed safely behind bars. With the bounty hunter taken care of, the fox made his way to the medical center to have his wounds cleaned and patched up. As he did so, he wondered what to do now that his mission had been so abruptly interrupted. The sensible thing to do would be to notify the freedom fighters of the captured bounty hunter, and warn them about Nack’s escape, and continue on his way. James didn’t always do the sensible thing.
His curiosity got the better of him. The bounty hunter could have had important information about the cult he was ordered to track down… and she could possibly shed some light on other questions that had been troubling the Captain of the Royal Guard.
His mind made up, James walked back to the prison and entered, informing the guards stationed there that he wished to speak with the prisoner. They had no objections. He hung his cloak up and walked over the cell where the feline was contained. She was trying to file her way through the metal bars of her cell window with her claws. He cleared his throat and pulled up a wooden stool to sit on, facing her.
“I thought of that already. There are guards standing just outside the window,” he informed her.
The feline turned around and sneered at him, “Thanks for the warning,” she said sourly.
“Don’t mention it.”
The vulpine tilted his head slightly and observed the cat for a long, quiet moment. The dark color of her fur and leather clothing only enhanced the feeling of hostility that oozed from her. She held herself well with the posture of a dancer or a professional warrior, light on her feet. Her body was slender and her muscles had been toned by the harsh physical demands of her profession. She was a little shorter than most Mobian felines, but not terribly so. James might have even found her attractive, had she not been sneering constantly at him.
“Not many people can detect a Royal Guard closing in on them. I’m impressed,” he said, trying to start a conversation.
“We cats have good hearing,” she answered, sitting on a chair with a broken back. A short reply. She didn’t seem keen to open up.
James leaned forward and rested his chin in his paws, “You are one of Julian’s mercenaries, correct?”
“How did you guess?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“The tags around your neck, mainly. What was a pair of mercenaries doing roaming around the Great Forest? Looking for Knothole so that you could kill us for a profit?”
“Well, duh,” she replied mockingly, “And we found you… well, sort of.”
The casual way she answered disturbed James. The fact that anyone could disregard anyone’s life, even that of an enemy, made him feel ill. He narrowed his eyes.
“So our lives are nothing but price tags to you?”
“You would see it that way,” The feline paused for a moment, her gaze locking with his, “Why do you keep asking me questions which you already know the answers to?”
“I’m gauging your reactions, of course. And I’m trying to understand why anyone would be crazy enough to work for that bloated monster. What’s in it for you?”
“Are you trying to be… friendly?”
Her question surprised the guardsman. Not so much the question itself, but how it was delivered, as if she couldn’t even comprehend the possibility.
“Maybe not friendly, but certainly civil.”
“Faugh!” the cat spat at him, the calm, questioning demeanor gone, “You’re just trying to lull me into a false sense of security so that I give over all my information without a fuss! Forget it, Prower, if I tell you anything, my life isn’t worth piss back in Mobo- uh, Robotropolis.”
“It doesn’t seem to be worth anything anyway,” he said dryly, “Your ‘comrade’, Nack, didn’t seem to have any qualms about leaving you behind to save himself.”
“I can't blame him. It's what I would have done. And he's probably tailed you here. Maybe he'll break me out, maybe he'll leave me here for you and your sicko pals to fuck, but he'll head back to Robotnik and your stinking terrorist shithole will be dust within a week.”
James sat up, reeling back in surprise, his eyes widening. That she could even suggest such a thing of him and his friends offended him at a very deep level, tearing away a carefully constructed mental barrier to aggravate his volatile temper.
“Excuse me,” he snarled, “I don’t know what you’ve been brainwashed to believe, but we don’t torture our enemies, unlike that sick fuck you work for! We actually value life here, and we never leave anyone behind! This ‘stinking terrorist shithole’ is the last hope for this planet, and I’ll be damned if it gets taken down by some opportunistic bounty hunter scumbag!”
“Could’ve fooled me…”
“Considering how much of a fool you are proving to be, it probably wouldn’t be very difficult. Unless you want to stay in that cell for a very, very long time, I suggest you adjust your attitude. Tell me… what do you know about this cult that your boss had been employing?”
“I don’t know anything.”
“Uh huh. Right. Sure, I believe you.” he said, his turn to be sarcastic.
Suddenly, her self-control seemed to rush away, and she jumped up from her seat, “I told you, I don't know squat about your cult! I'm not important enough to know anything! There are maintenance droids that are more important than me! I'm a merc, I'm expendable!” she shouted at him.
Expendable. That word struck a chord within James. His anger faded, and his expression softened.
“No one is expendable,” he spoke quietly.
The cat looked at him, “Shit, this is gonna be just like last time. Fetch your red-hot poker already!”
Suddenly, James saw something in her he hadn’t before. The sneering, the defiance, the disrespect and the anger…it was all a front, a shield, a deception to hide the fact that she was afraid of him. Genuinely, honestly afraid of him.
“…You really believe I intend to hurt you.”
“You really believe your Royal Guard is so noble and good?” she said, shuddering as if disgusted by the words.
“The fact that they were is irrelevant, considering your boss slaughtered them all but me. They were… expendable to him and his plans.”
A wicked smile crept over the feline’s face, “I know… He let me watch.”
James squeezed his eyes shut and tried to forget that he just heard that. His eyes opened again.
“Is that what you want to be, bounty hunter? An expendable pawn to be disposed of when you’re no longer of any use, or just if Robotnik needs some amusement?” he asked her.
“And you think the Royal Guard wasn't expendable to Max?” the cat retorted, “When you play a game of chess, you have to sacrifice a few pawns. Sometimes all of them.”
“True, sometimes, you have to send good people to their deaths. It’s part of being a leader. But it doesn't make anyone ‘expendable’. It doesn't mean people don't matter. It’s a hard decision for Max, because he cares about and values those who serve him. Julian... he doesn't give a damn about anyone but himself, and he'll send people to die for his own twisted amusement.”
The cat’s shield was back up. Her eyes narrowed, her tail twitched, and her voice came out a growl. Anger boiled up from within her, which she directed at her captor.
“At least I know Julian's a fucking bastard! You seem to think that the sun shines out of Max’s ass! Who employed a fucking Overlander to oversee his entire military procedures? Who sent the Royal Guard to fight an impossible battle? Who had prisoners tortured for information? Max!”
Guilt clawed away at the vulpine’s guts.
“I sent the Guard to fight that battle in the hopes that maybe we could save someone by sacrificing ourselves,” he admitted quietly. He leaned forward, closer to the bars of her cell. “King Acorn may have his flaws, but he never, ever authorized the torturing of prisoners.”
“Tell it to the scars!”
“You’re lying, and I don’t care for it.”
The cat suddenly shrugged her black leather jacket off, baring her arms to him. He could see that those arms were covered in various deep and ugly scars that peeked through her fur.
“You think I did this to myself?” the feline demanded.
“Maybe. It’s more likely than Max doing it.”
“You wanna see the ones on my back?”
Before James could respond, the cat spun around and unzipped the top of her tight bodysuit, showing him her back, which was covered in a breathtaking array of horrendous scars that were obviously inflicted purposefully with the intent of causing suffering. In the middle of her back, a heart was carved into it with ‘CF & BL 4EVA’ sliced into the center. The guardsman’s jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and he felt like throwing up. What kind of sick, sadistic bastard could possibly do such a thing?
“Good gods…” he whispered.
“One of your asswipe torturers did that to me, to try and get me to admit to spying. I was 15! I didn’t know squat about Robotnik’s intended coup! But your men dragged me in off the streets and threw me in a cell and broke out the red-hot pokers!”
James shook his head slowly in a daze, his eyes fixed on the mass of scars, “No… I don’t believe it…”
“Believe what you want. I got some on my ass as well.”
With that, the bounty hunter zipped the suit back up, mercifully concealing the horrific scars from the fox. James gathered his thoughts and found his voice. He needed to know who was responsible.
“Who are CF and BL?”
“It’s none of your fucking business, Royal Guard,” she spat at him, the words laced with contempt.
“Humor me and tell me who your torturers were, Traitor,” James replied, the same note of contempt in his voice.
“Maybe you could start by giving me a yearbook.”
“Unfortunately, I think Julian burned them all,” James replied dryly.
“Well, they didn’t exactly stop to give me their names.”
“Whoever they were, they were no guardsmen of mine. They were better than that.”
“Huh… well, I’d hate to spoil your rose-colored view of the world,” She paused for a moment before tentatively addressing him again, “So… you’re not gonna break out the rusty knives?” she asked.
“No,” he said, shaking his head sharply, “I’m not a monster like Julian.”
“You’re…different.”
She paused again, her expression softening as she looked over the fox on the other side of the bars, as if seeing something new in him. But the hard, cold expression returned.
“But you’re still a Royal Guard. If I had my way, every one of you would be dead. Robotnik must've just been feeling particularly... well, merciful isn't the word, is it? Irate? Evil? Vicious? When he spared your life. Shame.”
James glared at her.
“Yes. It is. I often wish he killed me, too.”
The conversation was over. James reached over beside him and picked up a still-steaming tray with a rather tasty looking steak dinner in it. It was very good for prison food; steak was hard to come by. He figured her to be the carnivorous type. He slid it under her cell door.
“Here, I brought you this. Sorry about the lack of utensils, but we have a policy about giving prisoners sharp objects.”
The guardsman got to his feet, turned toward the exit, and began to walk away. But the captive bounty hunter had something left to say.
“Don’t worry. If I had a sharp object, I’d put it through your eyeball and kill you quick, not carve my initials into your back like you’re some kind of trophy to claim. I’m not a monster… like Max.”
James froze in his tracks, her words rolling around inside his head. He needed to get out, get some fresh air. He needed to talk to Max about this. He needed some time to think about things.
As he passed through the door and into the village, his ears twitched as she added one final line to her last statement, so quiet that it was almost a whisper: “And neither are you…”
~~~
End of Chapter Five
Harley: Now get your ass over to Chapter Six. I get to kill people in that one!
Froggy: What is it with you and untimely death?
Harley: It smells good.