ImaginesFire

Do this quiz and post your result plus a picture of a fictional character you're obsessed with!

Tagging EVERYONE! literally all you little people! (Also it's very late and I should be asleep so this probably has a few typos, excuse me :D)

He’s walking home. It’s dark and ominous. Does he know he’s being followed? Maybe. Probably. It focuses on George then pans to the men following him. The one in the lead having a gleaming golden blade. They begin to approach with more of a purpose and catch up with him. George is surrounded. He doesn’t have a chance to put up much of a fight.

The fight itself you don’t see much of. Just a solid punch to the face. And a few bone-crunching kicks to his already crumpled body.

The noise is slightly muffled and the vision is going black. You hear hurried receding footsteps and a vague hope for a siren you’re not 100% sure is there.

Cut scene. The next time you see George he looks pale. Ghostly. Corpse-like. He looks dead. The hurried footsteps are back. This time coming towards him rather than running away. The sound is still muffled, but someone calls out. They sound worried. Fearful.

“George! GEORGE!” It’s Holly. The vision and sound become clear again as Holly kneels beside her hopefully not-dead friend. She’s a mess. “George. Oh, God. George. Please be okay. Please be okay. George. Please. Answer me!” Her sobs make her harder to understand. “HELP! SOMEBODY! PLEASE! HELP!”

Her cries for help turn into just plain crying. Sobbing. Her hands shake as she fumbles to check his pulse. She’s unsure if she can’t find it because she’s nervous or because he’s dead. She’s barely aware of being pushed aside when the EMT arrives. They move him onto a stretcher and load him into the back of an ambulance. She tries to follow. Someone stops her. She fights them, but she doesn’t have the strength. “Please! Let me go. Let me go with him! He’s my friend! He’s my friend!” How many times can she repeat herself? Why don’t they get it? But they’re already driving away.

Holly would have collapsed back onto the street, but someone’s holding her up.

“Holly.” The voice was familiar. “Holly. Let me take you home. You need to tell the others. They need to know. Please.”

The cold rain started to bring her back to her senses. That and the voice. Who she now knew was Kipps. How long had it been raining? When did Kipps get here?

It must have been raining when she left Portland Row. She vaguely remembers that now.

Holly looks up at Kipps. She recognizes him. Of course she does. But her mind is struggling to be present. It’s still somewhere with George on the ambulance ride.