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Disclaimer: I do not own The Pretender or anything affiliated with it. It is owned by TNT, NBC, and Craig and Steve. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made.
Spoilers: A little bit of “The World’s Changing”
Author’s Note: Written for the Pretender100 challenge of Silence. I’m getting really tired of having to retype that stupid disclaimer. After so many stories, I think I should be exempt. Sigh. Concrit is lovely.
Summary: It was less fun being on the wrong end of a 9mm.
Crimson
by: chopsticks
p g
-----
He was, he figured, rather stupid. Unfortunately for him, he realized it only as he was facing his own mortality.
It was less fun being on the wrong end of a 9 mm.
After the failure with Project Silence—certainly not one of his better days, and thanks to a human experiment nonetheless—he chose to disappear off of the known map, hoping that Mr. Lyle would not search too hard for him. The gods, it seemed had been with him in that respect, for at least he knew he would be keeping his liver post-mortem.
What he hadn’t banked on was someone else coming after him. And now here he was.
The shot rang out, echoing in the silence, and the White was stained eternally crimson.
-----
the end.
feedback welcomed at spacedoutwriter@hotmail.com
Spoilers: A little bit of “The World’s Changing”
Author’s Note: Written for the Pretender100 challenge of Silence. I’m getting really tired of having to retype that stupid disclaimer. After so many stories, I think I should be exempt. Sigh. Concrit is lovely.
Summary: It was less fun being on the wrong end of a 9mm.
by: chopsticks
p g
-----
He was, he figured, rather stupid. Unfortunately for him, he realized it only as he was facing his own mortality.
It was less fun being on the wrong end of a 9 mm.
After the failure with Project Silence—certainly not one of his better days, and thanks to a human experiment nonetheless—he chose to disappear off of the known map, hoping that Mr. Lyle would not search too hard for him. The gods, it seemed had been with him in that respect, for at least he knew he would be keeping his liver post-mortem.
What he hadn’t banked on was someone else coming after him. And now here he was.
The shot rang out, echoing in the silence, and the White was stained eternally crimson.
the end.
feedback welcomed at spacedoutwriter@hotmail.com
