Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]

Viewing Single Post From: Breaking Point
[ *  *  *  * ]
The sides of his mouth lifted up ever so slightly in something resembling a smile. What else could he do?

"Sure," he said. At the same time, he realized that his lips were dry and cracked from the heat. The almost absurd thought of how he looked popped into his head - bloodstains on his jacket, skin probably half-sunburned... He could use some water. But now wasn't the time. He still had to check out the other buildings.

Hefting his shotgun in his hands, Sam made his way to the stables.

It was probably the smell that hit him first. The lack of smell, that was. It felt wrong. Horses might have lived and died here, and they'd left no mark. Perhaps this stable had never been used. There was something else that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Something that made him uneasy. Sam cautiously hitched Delilah's bag higher up onto his shoulder, keeping the other hand on his shotgun. Maybe it was the piece of cloth he could see in the corner, behind a haystack. A blanket, perhaps. Maybe someone was there.

In the silence, his footsteps on the dirt floor of the stables sounded loudly in his head.

"Delilah?" As he got closer to the haystack, he could tell there was definitely someone under the blanket, just by the way it was slightly raised at the end. Sleeping? Had to be... Could it be her? Sam forced his voice louder. "Can you hear me?"

Nothing. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to wake her or whoever was under the blanket up quite yet. He'd just figure out who it was first, then decide what to do. Call for Renee, maybe, if it turned out to be someone else.

Ever so slowly, silently, he made his way around the haystack, until its rounded bulk was no longer in the way.

Looked down.

His heart stopped. It was Delilah, after all. Delilah, with a frozen look of fear on her face. Dead.

"G-goddammit." His voice didn't sound like his own. He'd dropped to his knees somehow, one hand fumbling on her neck as if to take a pulse. Her skin was cold, colder than it should have been. "Goddammit, Delilah, wake up, come on..." His voice was rising, Renee would probably hear, but he didn't care anymore.

Sam knew Delilah was gone, but he couldn't accept it anymore. Before she'd just been missing, running away from him; now he'd never catch up. He was completely helpless. That tightening knot in his gut, that stress he'd been trying to distract himself from, finally released. No. It snapped.

Sam Wilson had finally lost control.


And he was on the floor, on his knees, clutching his fist, knuckles reddening, the wooden wall of the stable no more changed by his useless anger than by anything else in its long life.
This signature intentionally left blank.

Program V3 Prologue:
Sylvia Veneski -- F32 -- Clothes Hanger -- Alive -- Someday We Won't Remember This

Auld Lang Syne
Offline Profile Quote Post
Breaking Point · The Ranch
Theme created by tiptopolive. Find more great themes and skins at the ZB Theme Zone.