Wake of the Dead | Three

Chapter Twenty-four | Killian

Not being able to prevent a shudder from running down his spine, Killian refused to look at Stephan, even when the other man lifted his chin. His hands fidgeted with the sleeves of the jacket, his heart beat pounding in his ears. "I just don't want to punish a face like that," Stephan feigned affection, a frown on his lips. "So...Naiive." You have no idea, motherfucker. I'll put you in the ground. Killian gulped. Just not today. "But you're itching for a fight." His stomach sank. Stephan tightened his hand around his throat and tossed him to the ground.

Killian hit the soil hard with a pained yelp, the wind knocked out of him. He began to get to his feet, ducking beneath a brutal punch and retrieving a knife from Stephan's belt as he dashed to the side. His captor was faster than he looked, turning to face him, but he didn't do anything, only stood there. "Again?" The large man mused, "I suppose I'll have to watch my pockets while I'm around you, clever Rabbit." It was almost like he was praising him, for fighting back. For entertaining him. Killian took a wary step back, holding the knife handle so hard his knuckles turned white, as his captor began to casually stroll towards him while unsheathing the hunting knife he carried--one that used to belong to him. "Come to me now, if you want to draw blood so badly."

"You're going to kill me," Killian said shakily, "Or something close to it. I'm not going to come to you. Not when I know what's going to happen." He wrinkled his nose into a snarl. "I'll fight you. I know I'm going to lose, maybe I'll die, but I won't go out as a coward!" Stephan didn't appear to be very moved by his words. "I know you're..." His voice trailed off. Stephan was violent, but he wasn't insane...which made it even worse. This man knew exactly what he was doing, the fear he instilled. And he did not care.

Stephan raised a brow, a sardonic grin tugging at the corners of his lips for just a brief moment. "You know nothing about me." He paused. "Truly unfortunate. I thought perhaps you would be different." This time Killian was ready when his captor rushed at him, brandishing the knife with deadly aim. He ducked under the man's arm, using his stolen knife to drag it across the other man's ribs, skidding to a halt. after sliding a few feet away. He was clumsy, stumbling to catch his balance again. His rival paused momentarily, looking down at the large wound in his side that had ripped through his shirt. He appeared only to be mildly annoyed, even though that cut was most definitely deserving of stitches, he showed no pain whatsoever. Then, Killian saw the anger. It was a quiet kind, the kind you felt at the back of your neck, the one that crept up on you from behind.

"You-!" Killian was cut off as Stephan simply threw his knife over the small distance between them. It lodged into his arm, throwing him off balance. Once again on the ground, he knew this was the absolute worst place to be. The most dangerous. His captor was on him in an instant, straddling him so he couldn't move. The pain in his arm was almost unbearable, radiating up to his shoulder and shooting down his back, all the way up his neck. Stephan used his free hand to pin his other arm down. Killian stared up at the massive man, nothing but terror striking him down to the very core. Those black, cruel eyes glaring back at him. Angry, vengeful. In the dying, fiery rays of the afternoon sun, with the shadows over Stephan's face, he could only see him as the Devil himself.

Stephan retrieved his stolen knife, slipping it back into its place, then ripped the large one away from Killian's arm. Tilting his head to the side, a cold sweat broke out across his forehead. Was his captor finally going to kill him? Would he make it long and painful, leave him to bleed out in the middle of the camp? Was this the very end for him? Thoughts raced through Killian's mind as Stephan looked at his bloodied knife contemplatively, then stabbed down into his arm again. As he laid there helpless beneath this hulking man's weight, he watched his own scarlet blood seeping into the ground beneath his arm. It was dizzying, the world spun beneath his body. Voices around him began to blur, all into a single collective sound. Even the pain began to fade away into a dull throbbing. Each stab shredded his skin, but he felt only the dull impact now as the darkness crowded the edge of his vision.