…“A-A-ARE YOU I-INSANE? I-I-I, I WAS A-ACQUITTED OF A-A-ANY WRONGDOINGS! I-I-I, I WAS F-FOUND INNOCENT! T-T-T-THIS ISN’T SOME KIND OF B-GRADE MOVIE DETECTIVE, THIS IS REAL LIFE, AND IN REAL L-L-LIFE YOU ARE N-NOT T-T-THE HERO!” he screams through teeth bloody and broken, as he scrambles clumsily through the snow laden forest.
“In the game of life, there is no score tally, there are no heroes or villains, you are either dead or alive!” Hannigan spits as he follows the blood trail Steven has left behind him. “So, even though you may have escaped the arm of the law for your crimes, you won’t escape mine! I’ll find you, you little CUNT, and I’ll bury you out here!”
“T-T-THIS IS RIDICULOUS! Y-YOU’VE L-L-LOST Y-YOUR SENSES! I-I-IF YOU STOP N-NOW, I’LL N-NEVER T-T-TELL ANYONE W-WHAT HA-HAPPENED TODAY! I-I, I P-PROMISE!” he cries as he tucks himself in behind a tree and takes several deep, exhausted breaths. With a hiss of his lips, he gently releases the tight grip he has on his upper arm. The world spins and his eyes widen as a sea of red vomits from the deep cut, quickly he grips it once more. He leans into the tree and sucks in breath after breath, then from the corner of his eye he spies the glowing red trail that shines its way through the crystal white show and leads directly to him. He hears the crack of firm snow beneath heavy feet, and the swooshing of something through the air, and then the pain as the axe thrusts into his chest.
“There you are, CUNT!” Hannigan says with a wide grin across his lips.…