[b]Bruce - Fallen King - Jessaly[/b]

Her nails were as sharp as knives, cutting in deep into his flesh. Her motions were just like a walker's, unbalanced, unsystematic. The gashing blood poured from his cheeks and writs, but Bruce remained motionless. He continued to apply pressure on her neck, attempting to diminish any morsel of breath the girl still possessed. He felt her tender neck tighten in defense to his grasp. Her heartbeat traveling up his arms, feeling every beat down his spine. He felt as though he was picking her off the ground, but it was merely the sensation of murder. She was so light that for a second, he lost sight of her, as if she faded like an empty cloud. 

But once she returned, she struck him with punishment. Her foot traveled between his legs in a speed unknown. The force of impact thrashed every nerve in his eternal body, causing the king to collapse like a peasant. The situation was ironic because it seemed as though he was kneeling before Jess at this point, as if the king was bowing down to a prostitute. Though it seemed never-ending, the pain rushed out of his system within a fraction of a second. It was as though his intent - his demonic desire - exiled the discomfort of pain. 

As the girl rushed towards the door, Bruce launched himself into a full-throttled bursting run. But as his hand came to her shoulder, a light blinded him mercilessly. 

James 2:13
"For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy."

That light burned his skin like a rash, pushing him back into the darkness of the cell. He held his forearm to his face, preventing the light from incinerating his eyes. He felt a small flame commence in his abdomen, but in result, blood emerged in the shape of the fire. Another flame to the thigh, another to the shoulder. The embers stopped once the king fell upon his red water, putting out the furnace of pain. The light stopped burning, it actually looked peaceful and soothing to the eye. At this point, Bruce felt no pain, he just lay on the tainted wall, staring at the light. He had a smile on his face as though he was being awarded with beauty, but suddenly, that attraction was blocked by a figure. The small shadow stood between him and the light. Bruce reached out to move it, but his hands lay too far from its frame. His hands were waving side to side in attempt to remove the stain from the pure light of life. Bruce didn't hear any sound during this time, just a palliative hum. The blur did not move, instead, it multiplied. Two more shadows started to block the light, these were actually approaching Bruce. His heartbeat began to rise as his body started to shiver from the sudden frigid temperature. Still, he did not speak. 

The two shadows stood next to him, Bruce turned from one to the other with his one good eye. The blur in his pupil still prevented him from making anything out of them. Once Bruce turned back to the light, he noticed something he hadn't. The lone shadow, the first blur had become synchronized with his vision. He started at the bottom of the shadow, slowly going up its physique. The shadow had the body of a woman, a pregnant woman. Her eyes glimmered even brighter than the light behind her. She was no longer a shadow, but light itself. Her stomach, round like the halo of an angel shined along side her very presence. When he recognized the being, he made sense of the situation. He lay on the cell wall and looked at his own body. He noticed the blood gushing form the bullet wounds. The puddle underneath him was gored in blood. The shadows that once stood on each side of him transformed into Haywood guards, both pointing their weapons at their king's head. 

As the chill continued, Bruce finalized his return to reality. He knew for certain he would soon go into that good night, but raged, raged against the dying of the light. He was refusing to let himself die, but the cold breeze continued to maneuver its way through his inner soul. It froze all his systems, all his organs - kidney, lung, liver. He felt himself shutting down, his vision declining back to that blur once more. His jaw open as though he were about to say something, but his head dropped before words could be spoken. The cell room was then filled in silence.