[img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjExNi5hY2FjZWYuUTJ4aGJtTjVJRkJoZEhKcFkycy4x/burn-out-fade-away.regular.webp[/img] [@Punished GN][@Atrophy][@FernStone][@Blizz][@AtomicEmperor][@NoriWasHere]@everyone [code]Kari Wilson's House[/code] [hr] Pretending that to understand [i]everything[/i] that Kenshiro mentioned had also made sense to the [i]rest[/i] of the group, let alone himself, was likely a waste of time. Or so Clancy guessed. That Britney had earned her share of scorn made full sense to him now. [I]Of course.[/i] If it [i]had[/i] been her that played a part in turning him into what he [i]was[/i], he'd no doubts that he would've broken her in half. If she had made him... [quote=Britney][color=f4eb93]”Is that a thr-”[/color]Britney cut herself off...[/quote] Britney had been ready to kick back, but the other girl had beat her to it. [quote=Adora][color=fd8a6c]”... Wait, what the fuck do you mean you were [i]there?![/i]”[/color] Adora seethed, one hand on her chest, the other on the wall. As she took deep breaths, it was probably evident that she was trying to hide that she was coming down from a full-on anxiety attack, but, again, she was just too arrogant to let anyone here think she was showing [i]weakness[/i]. As she looked at the kid, something clicked in her head, and she got mad... It was enough to distract her from her trauma for just a moment. [color=fd8a6c]”... I think I saw you at the grocery store the other day, too! Have you been following me?”[/color] She took a few deep breaths and couldn't hold it in any longer. Before, she continued. [color=fd8a6c]”Kid... that is not fucking [i]cute[/i] at all!”[/color] Adora said, [color=fd8a6c]”That is [i]sick. [b]You're[/b][/i] fucking sick. Stay the fuck away from me.”[/color][/quote] The truth was, he [i]had[/i] been watching her. And it wasn't entirely for selfless reasons - she was bait. Not that he needed to phrase it like that, but it [i]was[/i] the honest rationale behind why he'd spent days following her [i]boring[/i] routine, on the off chance that Father Wolf went after lone stragglers of Ashley's old circle. [B]"[i]You're welcome.[/i] Are you [i]done[/i] now?"[/b] was all Clancy had to say, sardonically tilting his head to one side. He [i]wanted[/i] to say more, like how if anyone was going to have been a target, it would've heen her. Or that she wouldn't have been screaming at him if he'd stopped her from catching a knife in the back. And that he'd clearly [i]wasted[/i] time on some wheezy, weepy little girl while Ashley's killer still walked around this stupid town. Gratitude wouldn't have killed her, if she'd known the truth of it. [i]Father Wolf would've, though.[/i] But it would've been a waste of time trying to explain, and that train of bitter thought was interrupted when yet [i]another[/i] assault on what senses were left to him came in the form.of another waking vision - instantaneous as the last, but [i]revealing[/i]. It proved the point that 8th Street had been here. That they were sniffing around. That they [i]knew[/i] something at the least, if they weren't already involved. That they were assholes who had stepped onto his internal measuring scale of people that needed to be [i]dealt with.[/i] And then, as if to accentuate that point; [quote=Jack][color=6644ff]”... Lynn is almost certain we are about to be attacked by the 8th Street Coven. Be prepared, in case she is right.”[/color][/quote] The speaker had appeared and disappeared before Clancy had any chance to ask him question, but the dull [i]thud[/i] running beneath their feet told him the [i]about to be[/i] was actually [i]right now[/i]. Exiting the basement at a pace, Clancy felt for the dufflebag clung to his back. [i]Maybe later.[/i] Through a window, he caught a glimpse of what was waiting for them. A group of faces, vaguely familiar from their shared vision but not to him. Towering over them was a mass of... he could have described it as a cross between a venus flytrap, a skinned bear, and carrion thar had been smeared across the road by a convoy of truckers. It was [i]meat[/i], animate and leaking fluids. Strangely familiar, in a twisted sense. Finally, he could make out what they were saying; the voice wasn't dampened, strangely enough. [quote=girlswhopeakedinhighschool] "... It's been a while, hasn't it, sluts!?" Emily shouted, her voice loud enough to be heard all over the property. "Missed the reunion... Well, I wasn't invited! Well, I wouldn't have come either way - that [i]unfair[/i] treatment I received at the Halloween Festival told me I made the right choice, anyway!" She looked around, grinning like a fool. As she threw the hood up, the rain fell on her hair. "So, I'm going to be quick and to the point; we're not here to fight you sluts. I'm here for one person, and one person only, Lila Blackwood..." [h3]"[i][b]... [u]AND[/u] FUCKING BRITNEY! I'M GOING TO RIP HER FUCKING INTESTINES OUT, FEED 'IM TO CYNTHIA, FIX HER, JUST TO DO IT AGAIN AND [u]AGAIN[/u]![/b][/i]"[/h3] Carol screamed, stepping from behind the undead monster's leg. Emily just rolled her eyes. "... [i]And Britney,[/i]" Emily began, putting a hand on her hip. "So, just hand those two over, and we'll leave you sluts to rob a dead retard's house - do you sluts have [i]any[/i] shame or dignity at [i]all[/i]?" [/quote] The girl who'd screamed for Britney's guts - [i]literally[/i] - seemed young. Not much older than he had been, if that. She stood out like a sore thumb, [i]almost[/i] as much as he did. Why was she with them? Clancy thought back to what Kenshiro had said, something he'd only [i]peripherally[/i] noted as the wheezy girl had lost her cool with him. [i][color=7B81B3]"She's a Pactmaker! And the whole reason Emily G. Reed is a bitter, wretched fucking cunt today? Is because of you, Britney Williams."[/color][/i] [i]Right,[/i] the girl was probably another nightmare of her own creation. Momentarily, he considered whether it was worth [i]giving[/i] Britney to them. He couldn't say he felt [i]any[/i] approval at what she'd done, and given his own situation had been inflicted upon him, some wilderness nightmare a [i]long[/i] way from home, he felt he probably shared more background with these assholes than he would But they were [i]assholes[/i], and they were in the way. Either they had a hand in the murders, or they were going to be a blocker to finding whoever [i]did[/i]. And he was [i]hungry.[/i] [i]Besides,[/i] he considered, [i]what would Ashley have done?[/i] The other girl, Lila? Something [i]odd[/i] struck him about her, but he couldn't figure it out. He couldn't say [i]she[/i] deserved to die, and he knew enough of Emily and 8th Street to know that they were unlikely to be moved by invoking the milk of human kindness. Emily had mercilessly badgered Ashley. Asbley [i]wouldn't[/i] have wanted him to let her friends die like this. Britney got off, for now - but he wouldn't be shedding tears for her if anything happened. [i]Not that he could[/i] The others were mobilising, rushing outside without regard. Given how [i]well[/i] that had worked last time, Clancy reconsidered. Looking to the stairs, Clancy paced up to find a better vantage, tugging his hood upwards over his head. Behind him, Luca's voice was in one ear, telling Britney to [i]run[/i] and- [hider=burning ambience][youtube]https://youtu.be/Z_qSb8jeQZw[/youtube][/hider] A wave of heat erupted over him, and the rest of the upper stairwell. A [i]blinding[/i] light that struck him like a kick to the gut. Clancy staggered backwards, tumbled, and hit the ground floor on his hands and knees, needing a moment's pause to regain his composure as his now-burning clothes blackened under hellfire rained from above. Luca was stood there in the doorway still, flames licking outwards from above and below. The memory of charred flesh in a condemned apartment block sprung to mind. Of panicked homeless and addicts pounding on the interior of boarded-up doors and windows, begging to be let out before the smoke inhalation got them. It wasn't a kind way to die. [i]Ashley wouldn't want this.[/i] Forcing himself to his feet, Clancy paced towards Luca, seized him by the lower half of his shirt, and then [i]hesitated[/i] as though something corrosive had slapped him in the face, the boy's expression crinkling as icy-cold fingers twisted at the fabric and skin beneath. [b][i]"Run,"[/i][/b] he echoed, before shoving Luca out the [i]quieter[/i] side of the porch, away from the burning timbers of the balcony above as the weight of the building threatened to give way under the additional pressure. Leaving him stood there at the porch, in full view of whatever remained of 8th Street, charred clothes still smouldering.