"Why didnāt you just shoot him, man?"
Ā Ā Ā Thereās a sudden warmth accompanied by the mans words.Ā His breath a little too close to the nape of her neck. It sets off an army of goosebumps upon her artificial hyde. But she is still. Unmoving. Motionless; like a gargoyle sat atop a building she watches the city below her. The human race scurry around like cattle. Nothing more than pieces of Ā glorified meat. Despite Ivon awaiting some sort of response, verbal, or physical Violet takes a long drawn minute to ponder. What difference does it make how their world ends? Plague, war, famine..? Morality doesnāt even come into it. Itās natural selection, she thinks. Sheās just there to speed up the process.Ā Ā Ā āBecause, Ivon. That would be too easy. For me and for him.ā she finally answers.Ā ābesides this isnāt a business callā¦ā she pauses, finally tearing her gaze away from the street below. Violet turns to him with hooded eyes and a bleeding smile. Ā āthis is⦠personalā thereās a slight emphasis on the word personal.Ā āso Iām not going to sit up here with you breathing down my neck whilst I pick off this asshole from afarā Itās not that she canāt make the shot, itās more that she doesnāt want to. Violet doesnāt want it to end quickly, doesnāt want a bullet to steal away the life of the man meddling with things he doesnāt truly understand. She wants to get her hands dirty. Filthy. Covered in red. She wants to watch the life leave his eyes, but more importantly, she wants to see the panic on his face beforehand. Ivon should understand. He shouldnāt question her. It makes her angry.Ā Ā Ā Ā āLet this be a lesson to you Ivon, to everyone... threaten me or my family--ā itās something she never thought sheād have the chance to say (let alone have) but the words slip from her mouth like they were made for herĀ ā--and I will have your heart.āĀ












