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.
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.