Errol Partridge (i_payitgladly) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2009-04-06 11:26:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | death of the endless, errol partridge |
Welcome to your new life. (Death of the Endless)
"Don't."
Errol held his partner's eyes over the book, ignored the gun pointed at him, and kept his hand on his own pistol, though he had absolutely no intention of using it. He was here for one reason only, and he was at peace with it. He would choose this, and he would make sure that Preston was looking him in the eyes as it happened. He thumbed the safety off and exhaled, ready.
Preston did not disappoint. There was the sound of a Cleric's pistol and the noise of the bullet going through the book a millisecond before Errol felt the sting of the bullet in his throat and his eyes closed, welcoming the darkness, and then...
He inhaled again, and opened his eyes. There was no pain in his throat, only a phantom tingle just above the hollow formed by his collarbones. The hand that had been on his pistol went to it and found no clean entry wound, nor any blood. His other hand still held the book, a hole clean through the front cover and several pages. Noticing that detail, he snapped out of his daze and put the book down, quickly putting the safety back on his gun and returning it to the holster hidden under his Cleric's coat.
Disbelief gave way to practicality, and he took stock of his surroundings. He sat inside a building, but not like one he'd ever sat in before. It wasn't unfamiliar, despite that. He'd seen pictures. The architecture, inasmuch as he could determine such things, looked like late twentieth century or early twenty-first to him. There were tables and chairs--fanciful things after the stark architecture he was used to. People sat at them, brightly colored as birds--or at least, the pictures and recordings of what had existed before World War Three, as those left were drab survivors. And they were talking, eating, and most important of all, laughing.
Emotion. Everywhere. He was too astonished to even bother hiding it.