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onepassingnight2011-03-29 11:42 am
morallycomfy.livejournal.com) wrote in onepassingnight2011-03-29 11:42 am
Company Policy ;; 001
[It's twenty years ago, and you find yourself on a deserted bridge. There's a car behind you, which might be how you got there, and a gun in your hand, pointed at one Noah Bennet. He doesn't beg for mercy, or plead his case, but only opens his arms out, giving you a perfect shot to his heart.]
Do it. Shoot. You and I both know it's the only way.
[You pull the trigger, but the bullet seems to be moving in slow-motion. The slug enters his chest, blood spreading out over his starched shirt as he falls to his knees.]
It's alright, [he tells you calmly, as if he's placating to a child, and maybe in some cases he is. He opens his shirt to reveal the wound, bullet pushing back out of his chest and clinking uselessly to the gravel below.]
Do it. Shoot. You and I both know it's the only way.
[You pull the trigger, but the bullet seems to be moving in slow-motion. The slug enters his chest, blood spreading out over his starched shirt as he falls to his knees.]
It's alright, [he tells you calmly, as if he's placating to a child, and maybe in some cases he is. He opens his shirt to reveal the wound, bullet pushing back out of his chest and clinking uselessly to the gravel below.]
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