Premeditated Perception
The bloody ice pick drops to the floor from Gregor’s hand while he stands silently and watches the sea of red grow beneath Duncan’s crumpled form.
“I-I-I,” he stammered as he looks over to Sarah, and stares wide eyed into hers. “I-I-I,” he stutters once more before shifting his gaze back to Duncan.
“It’s okay,” Sarah says softly as she clutches herself tightly, and bits firmly down on her bottom lip. “I-I, I’ll tell them it was self-defence, I’ll say he attacked me then y-you intervened and he turned his attack towards you, a…” her words catch themselves in her throat as his confused eyes slowly drift up from Duncan’s body and upon her.
“Why?”
“W-W-Why what?”
A nervous smile trickles across his face like water onto a shores edge. “Why tell them a-anything, i-it will not change what has been done, or what must happen next.”
The air falls still and silent between them, and an understanding of a thickening silence that could possibly be cut by a knife conceives itself upon her mind.
“W-W-What has t-to happen next?” she asks nervously.
His smile broadens from ear to ear as he wipes three fingers over each of his cheeks, leaving a thick smearing of blood across them. “Everything,” he scoffs proudly.
