02-09-2017, 10:20 PM
Yep. Definitely crazy. Maybe he should turn him in to the police. For once, Jay had done nothing wrong. He saved a girl, as was his typical M.O. Problem was, he wasn't sure if Nox did anything wrong either. He was a killer. That was certain. Then again, so was Jay. Taking a life made a man a killer. It was the line between killer and murderer that was harder to define.
He shrugged, tipping the bottle to his lips. "You were attacked. It was self defense. As to the head? Eh well. He was already dead by then."
Or he looked as good as dead from Jay's perspective. "As to why we ran off. Well. It didn't look good and I wasn't in the mood to spend the night in a Custody cell. But really. You seemed to know what you were doing."
He chuckled at that. A guy dead set on incinerating a head was not a guy to stand in his way. Given the story he told about the red-head, it made a little bit of sense. Assuming you believed in bullshit.
"I've seen a lot of crazy shit. Honestly, the idea of a two-souled monster eating a teenager seems far more believable than the evil motherfuckers that would kill their own mother to get ahead."
His gaze darkened briefly, thinking about evil nombre. The one that got him discharged from the marines. For a moment, he was back in that room, and he could see the tears on pale cheeks, the snarl of a desperate man, and feel the ridges of his bayonet digging into his palm.
Still, it was worth it. He was definitely a killer. Probably a murderer for thinking like that. Best not to think on it at all.
"I'm no African, though. I'm from Iowa."
How'd he know?
He shrugged, tipping the bottle to his lips. "You were attacked. It was self defense. As to the head? Eh well. He was already dead by then."
Or he looked as good as dead from Jay's perspective. "As to why we ran off. Well. It didn't look good and I wasn't in the mood to spend the night in a Custody cell. But really. You seemed to know what you were doing."
He chuckled at that. A guy dead set on incinerating a head was not a guy to stand in his way. Given the story he told about the red-head, it made a little bit of sense. Assuming you believed in bullshit.
"I've seen a lot of crazy shit. Honestly, the idea of a two-souled monster eating a teenager seems far more believable than the evil motherfuckers that would kill their own mother to get ahead."
His gaze darkened briefly, thinking about evil nombre. The one that got him discharged from the marines. For a moment, he was back in that room, and he could see the tears on pale cheeks, the snarl of a desperate man, and feel the ridges of his bayonet digging into his palm.
Still, it was worth it. He was definitely a killer. Probably a murderer for thinking like that. Best not to think on it at all.
"I'm no African, though. I'm from Iowa."
How'd he know?
Only darkness shows you the light.