marcato: (a cruel intoxication)
aunamee ❱❱ anomie ([personal profile] marcato) wrote in [community profile] thecapitol 2013-12-27 03:47 pm (UTC)

Aunamee felt a fluttering rise up from his chest.

A warning, perhaps.

But warnings had little use. His mind followed Wesker's, piggybacking on his thoughts like a leech. (Just a dream. A dream of the Capitol's design, but --) The ground underneath his feet was clean even though everything else around him was so, so dirty. The dogs that Wesker called in looked sickly and rotten. Just a dream. Just a dream.

He tossed his knife in the air and deliberately caught the blade between his unprotected fingers. Blood trickled down his palms and onto the clean ground beneath him. He felt no pain. It could have been a costume knife.

-- Not just a dream. They were using his abilities. The Capitol was using his abilities.

"I wish," he said through gritted teeth, flipping the blade in his hand so that it faced Wesker, "I could slaughter your waking mind."

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