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Baetool and Scout part 2
message 12601:
by
ᎻꮖꮐꮋᏞꭺꭰꭹ
(new)
Jan 29, 2018 08:35AM
There was a loud hissing noise and something grabbed at Maddox.
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Lyra's face was contorted and her eyes were pitch black. Black liquid ran down her cheeks. She growled low in her throat.
His grin fell when he saw her face. He stood up and tried to pick her up, “I’m going to get you out of here.”
She roared and pushed him away, then looked like she was contradicting herself. She whimpered and shook her head around. “No don’t hurt him.” She cried.
He stared at her kneeling again, “Lyra,” he said, struggling to think of something to do to help her.
“No!” He said. “I can handle pain,” he told her. “Hurt her and I will hunt you down and feed you to you own hell hounds if I have to.”
“You can’t.” She cried, then whimpered as the room shook. An invisible force pushed on Maddox’s temples.
The room was swimming to Lyra. Her head was throbbing and the walls were shaking, banging over dishes and plates and other fragile things. Her father shattered Maddox's skull.
Archer looked up but he didn’t even flinch when he saw Maddox collapse. He looked back at Lyra, “it’s done! He’s dead, your father can leave now,” he pleaded.
Lyra spat up a mouthful of blood before falling over onto her side. She breathed heavily before shuddering, then passing out.
Archer cringed and looked her over to see if there were any other wounds on her. He hugged her closer.
He looked around the room at all the broken objects and then at Maddox’s dead body, blood everywhere.
Archer wiped the tear slowly and then kissed her cheek before he took her to bed. It was a struggle to detach himself from her. He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she still wasn’t okay. After a while, though, he forced himself to go clean up the mess in the living room.
He got everything sorted out and after a few hours, he came back. He walked into her room when she woke up, having intended to grab a shower. He was covered in dried blood and dirt but it was nighttime when he buried the body, so no one spotted him on his way back from the woods.
He looked up and gave a small, crooked smile. “You’re awake,” he let out a breath of relief. “I was worried sick.”
He glared at her and took a deep breath to stop himself from biting back. “I’m going to go home and clean up,” he said simply.
He grabbed his bag. “I went and got more milk, the one I got before busted open. I put it in the fridge,” he said and turned to leave.


