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Wesley made a stab for in between Lensherr’s rib cage before his arm was caught in an unforgiving grip, the knife ripped out of his hands by an unnatural force. A swift kick to the taller man’s knees got him to loosen his grip on the arm to wind up for a strong right hook. Wesley managed to get a good two hits in before he was tackled into the brick wall, his head colliding into it.
He barely brought an arm to defend himself before the first hit came. A second hand pulled that arm away and it all went downhill from there. When Wesley came to from his brief black out his arms were pinned by one hand, his face pressed against the wall, and over six feet of angry target pressing against his back.
“Shit.”
Ignoring his little outburst the taller man the commenced with his interrogation, “You’re a little young to have worked under the doctor, I would have known you. An associate of his then,” he asked nodding towards the rapidly cooling corpse, “or perhaps of the other five?”
Double shit. Wesley wasn’t too sure what company policy was in the Fraternity on secrecy was but he was pretty sure it was something along the lines of, ‘You squeal, you die, asshole.’ So he settled for a short, “Go fuck yourself,” and was rewarded with a rather unwanted, swift close up to the wall.
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Write moar please!!!
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