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The woman groans, “First the weirdo chose here of all places to die and now he wants us to save his stupid friends too? I swear, I can never tell what the hell this guy wants.”
“The reasoning behind his machinations is not my concern, I’m only concerned with making sure my promise is kept.” he explains.
“Yeah, you aren’t the type to questions orders after all, no matter who they’re from.” She chuckles, “So what, you’re just going to be covering his ass from the shadows or something? Be his guardian angel?”
“I’m no guardian and and I am the furthest thing from an angel. I will not be his protector, my only goal is to ensure he lives long enough to escape this place, after that, I have no more interest in his life.” He explains.
“Can he escape? Pretty sure he’s too deep in at this point, he’s basically the Cadaver Prince’s lackey at this point.” She counters.
“Even so, if he is fast enough. He can still flee from the country, free himself from the worst of it” The man argues.
“Oh look at the hero being heroic! You’re so cool!” She admires.
He clicks his tongue at her, “But if he chooses not to run-” He steps forward, getting close enough to stand over you.
He wrestles his boot under your chin and with shocking deftness pushes your head upward in such a way that it lays you flat on your back.
“-Then my promise is made void. There will be no saving him, he will die like all the rest.” You can see his upper body now from this position, he’s wearing a full-body black and green cloak that covers everything up to his head and on his face is a mask.
White and sharp, with a long smile etched from corner to corner, a purple lighting bolt on the left side and a long crack running down the right side.
(The cracked mask killer.) You realize, you see the long black knife holstered to his left thigh.
All at once you’re reminded how vulnerable you are. On your back, unable to get up or defend yourself, a known serial killer standing over you with a knife, your heart beats heavy with fear.
“Hey, look at his eyes, isn’t he awake?” the woman, whose upper body unfortunately still out of view, notes.
(Shit.) The sudden shift must have made your eyes move a little too much, you shut your eyes completely in a desperate attempt to appear unconscious.
“Hm? What do you mean? His eyes are shut.” Says the cracked mask, somehow falling for your obvious ploy.
“No. I swear I saw his eyes open a moment ago. If he heard us talking or even saw either of us here, promises be damned we’ll have to kill him.” The woman reasons.
(Shit. Shit.) You’re in it deep, way too fucking deep.
“You’re right, assuming he was awake for this talk. I would have to slit his throat right here.” he admits.
“Yeah, so do it.” She commands.
