Wesley Wyndam Pryce (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} wes_the_watcher) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} wariscoming, |
Wesley knew that there was likely something wrong with him as of late, but it was hard to care. Other than some to Faith, he had been shutting down for a long time as far as talking and socializing with others was concerned. When all you felt was something closer to apathy toward the world, though, it was hard to care. He hadn't been quite right since Lilah had been sent back home, but, as far as he was concerned, Cordelia had completely sealed the deal as far as his withdrawal was concerned.
Even though he knew that others would die, and that was bad, he welcomed this battle. Maybe he would find something truly worth fighting for. If nothing else, he hoped to see Lucifer finally rot in the pits of hell for good. His smarm was getting ridiculous. If nothing else, that would lead to a bit of satisfaction on his part.
He had brought his shotgun to the battle, along with other random implements of weaponry that could be used in closer combat. The battle was almost...fun, but he inwardly supposed that was just the adrenaline rushing through him in a way that it hadn't for quite a long time. Adrenaline made him sloppy, though. It made him not notice the swirling black vortex that was starting to draw him in.
Even as his natural instinct was to fight it, to try and get away, a darker part of his brain told him that was where he belonged. He had once cursed a young baby to hell (however unintentional), so why wouldn't his own true penance be being cast down to a literal hell?
Before he could snap out of such thoughts, the vortex decided for him, pulling him hard enough to cause him to lose balance and start to tumble toward it.