[X] [Sting] Your Coat
[X] [Fall] It hurts because you cannot forget.
[X] [The Way] Gangly arms and shaking hands, young and frightened and clutching his sword.
He steps towards you as you approach
.
He eyes you nervously, backing away, as though unsure of what he sees (or not wanting to believe it).
The gate, the gate, the gate, in threes it circles in your head, you have to get out, and the only way out is through the gate.
Escape/Restart/Mercy
He draws his sword.
His hand rests on the pommel. "M-miss? I can't... I'm terribly sorry but-."
Without breaking stride you slide the pistol from inside your coat and pull the trigger.
He drops like a stone./His sword comes free of it's sheath in a flash of motion and a ring of metal on metal sounds as the shot ricochets to the right.
This is wrong.
These are wrong.
Set. It. Right.
The grey reminder of the guard that faced you that day brings his sword fully free of it's sheath, settling into a stance yet even though its every motion makes it clear that it has nothing more than the appearance of the boy it echoes, it unsettles you.
Fear. Pain.
How did you do this?
You didn't kill him... Did you?
How can you do this?
Who are you?
[] [Name] Write in name.