full_score
in
damned
Day 56: Bus 3
As the day came to a close, Claude's conversation with Tear weighed heavily on his mind. All the implications hadn't quite sunk in yet, but it unsettled him that she'd been able to feel and experience his time in the basement in such a strong way. Was there some kind of significance behind the fact she'd lived the moment he ran toward Guy in a
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That panicked shout behind him was enough to distract the assassin's attention, if only for a moment. He knew that voice, however briefly he'd heard it, and he knew that messy blonde hair in the corner of his eyes. That frail woman from the other day...?
Watching her being restrained did nothing more than force his shoulders to tense with barely restrained anger. This was a woman who was obviously not in her right mind, one who hardly looked strong enough to hold her own, and they were assaulting her for refusing to be assaulted in the first place? Venom's eyes turned back to man before him, gaze frozen with repulsion, and he took a step back, subtly putting himself closer to the captured woman. He knew he wasn't a good man. He didn't have the right to claim himself superior to these mindless drones--but he wasn't going to stand and watch their actions with a smile.
There was no humor to be found when the newcomer came forward and Venom did not move toward him when beckoned. He instead held his ground, fingers digging into the fabric he'd twisted and tightened around his hands. Was there really a need for manners at this rate? They had shown their intentions days before and had picked this fight themselves. There wasn't a point in pleasantries.
No, Venom. Stay calm. Don't lash out unless provoked. Keep your voice level.
His eyes narrowed, mind focused on any sudden sounds coming from behind himself. "I just prefer my personal space."
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A holler of pain followed the change of position, facing the buses and the sheep herds of patients instead of wide white mountains and dusted tree tops. If Claire had the mind to think it, she might have considered how symbolic the whole thing was. She'd blown her chance to escape the second she had decided to fight instead of flee.
Struggle as she may, her second arms was caught the same as the first. Aaron's bear fell to the ground. Claire gave a shriek of a sob and battled with the grip like a wild animal, hurling her body this way and that, anything to shake the woman off. "Don't touch me!" she screamed, "You can't take it! It's for my baby, you can't take it!!"
Hysterical, in pain, and desperate to reach the borders of those foreign woods, Claire thrashed about and aimed kicks at anything both in and out of her sight. Namely, the legs of the woman behind her. However, the snow and the cumbersome boots worked against her, and she half slipped, half lunged her way towards the man from before. She yanked at her arms with ferocious tenacity.
"Don't do this to me!!"
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"Listen to me," she said, emphasizing each word. "We're only taking it for now. You will get the bear back at dinner. Do you understand me? Please calm down."
Between Vincent and the commotion a few steps down, the man seemingly had his attention torn. That is, until he spoke. It was obvious then that his focus remained with Vincent. "Don't we all," he muttered, before waving it off with a graceful hand and a pleasant smile. "I gotta say, Mr. Lant, you've put me in a mighty fine position here. Unless you can prove to me without a reasonable doubt that you have nothing stolen on your person, I can't let you on the bus. Orders are orders and all that."
Here, the smile shifted to a smirk, one lacking amusement as much as mirth. It spoke of things to come. "But if you're willing to compromise," the man continued, "I think we might let you on with your personal space intact. How's that?"
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