[When Mel keeps attacking him instead of going for her. The dream, the memory, has shifted in a way she didn't think it could. But here they are, trapped in this room with the worst person she's ever known, and he's completely ignoring her in favor of beating up this stranger.
This isn't the time to be worrying about someone else.
It isn't set in stone. Maybe things can be different.
The boy's blood spatters on the old wood floor, and Nill jerks towards him, reaching out. But no, there's a better way to save him, to stop this pain. After he'd bought her, Mel had kept her cooped up in this place for weeks. She knows every inch of it, and where everything is. There had been no opportunity for her to make a move the first time around--and honestly, she'd been so frightened that she hadn't even considered it. But now is different. There's a strength in her legs that wasn't there just a moment ago, and adrenaline pumps through her veins, urging her to move.
Stumbling to her feet, she lunges for a chair next to the couch. It's where Mel's right-hand-man used to sit before he'd blown his brains out in front of his whores, something he had a nasty habit of doing. But she knows that beneath the chair is a gun, the gun he'd grabbed when he chased her down this hallway, when he'd tried to kill Heine.
It's heavy in her hands, but she doesn't let it weigh her down.
She's has never shot a gun before, but she's seen it happen enough times to know what to do. Safety off, barrel up. Both hands, trembling, but she holds them up. Not aiming for the head--she isn't that good. Instead his back, as he's facing away from her. A breath passes, and he turns as if he senses something is off. Glares at her, rounds on her. Looks her right in the eye. The barrel is pointed squarely at his chest.
Nill doesn't hesitate any longer before she pulls the trigger, stumbling back with the recoil.]
WELL THEN
This isn't the time to be worrying about someone else.
It isn't set in stone. Maybe things can be different.
The boy's blood spatters on the old wood floor, and Nill jerks towards him, reaching out. But no, there's a better way to save him, to stop this pain. After he'd bought her, Mel had kept her cooped up in this place for weeks. She knows every inch of it, and where everything is. There had been no opportunity for her to make a move the first time around--and honestly, she'd been so frightened that she hadn't even considered it. But now is different. There's a strength in her legs that wasn't there just a moment ago, and adrenaline pumps through her veins, urging her to move.
Stumbling to her feet, she lunges for a chair next to the couch. It's where Mel's right-hand-man used to sit before he'd blown his brains out in front of his whores, something he had a nasty habit of doing. But she knows that beneath the chair is a gun, the gun he'd grabbed when he chased her down this hallway, when he'd tried to kill Heine.
It's heavy in her hands, but she doesn't let it weigh her down.
She's has never shot a gun before, but she's seen it happen enough times to know what to do. Safety off, barrel up. Both hands, trembling, but she holds them up. Not aiming for the head--she isn't that good. Instead his back, as he's facing away from her. A breath passes, and he turns as if he senses something is off. Glares at her, rounds on her. Looks her right in the eye. The barrel is pointed squarely at his chest.
Nill doesn't hesitate any longer before she pulls the trigger, stumbling back with the recoil.]