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Sam was probably dying. The blood felt warm and wet as it trickled down his arm. Every heartbeat sent another short pulse out, staining his bloodstained jacket further. There was chaos outside that, as well. The growing pressure on his hand as Rebecca tried harder to wrest the shotgun from his grip. He could hear Renee's shouting. Telling him to let go.

Rebecca had both hands on the shotgun. He couldn't hold on much longer, not with one hand. Why didn't Renee just pry Rebecca off him? Shoot her? Disable her?

Maybe he wasn't thinking straight anymore.

He didn't have much choice. There was only one thing left to do - hope that when Rebecca got the shotgun, she wouldn't be able to escape.

Looking her straight in the face, Sam hissed, "Take it."

And he let it go.
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Program V3 Prologue:
Sylvia Veneski -- F32 -- Clothes Hanger -- Alive -- Stroke of Midnight

Auld Lang Syne
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Swan Song · The Streets
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