it feels like we're ready to crack, these days, you and I
Without, the doorknob continues to inexorably twist, like someone trying to remember how it works - or perhaps trying to work around something that had been wedged into the latch once upon a time. The world beyond the bedroom is gone, the air thick and dread-cold. Once it appears that quiet and subtlety won't do it, something THUMPS against the door with the force of several grown men; a demonic shoulder trying to barge its way inside.
Twice more it tries, the attacks causing the floorboards to vibrate and plaster to crack and crumble from the walls before - quite abruptly - it all stops.
Is it because whatever force on the other side of the door has given up?
...Or is it because it's found another way in?
A final slam (and this one sounding strangely more human) against the bedroom door has it flying open as if there had never been any resistance, allowing an out of breath Ronin to gracelessly stumble inside. A couple other crew members are flanking him, but by the grace of whatever religion seems the friendliest right now, they haven't been needed.
"Fuck," Ronin curses. "Remi?"
Twice more it tries, the attacks causing the floorboards to vibrate and plaster to crack and crumble from the walls before - quite abruptly - it all stops.
Is it because whatever force on the other side of the door has given up?
...Or is it because it's found another way in?
A final slam (and this one sounding strangely more human) against the bedroom door has it flying open as if there had never been any resistance, allowing an out of breath Ronin to gracelessly stumble inside. A couple other crew members are flanking him, but by the grace of whatever religion seems the friendliest right now, they haven't been needed.
"Fuck," Ronin curses. "Remi?"
when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die
