Post by Dallas Hatcher on Jun 2, 2018 11:40:25 GMT -5
He could hear voices in the other room, just outside the office. three, from the sound of it. It hadn't seemed as if they noticed the children. They were so young. Why weren't they any adults with them? His finger moved to his lips, a shushing sound quietly made. The children smiled, and for a moment, Dallas thought everything was going to be okay.
But then that feeling turned south, very south. The children, got up and walked out into the other room. Mimicking his shushing sound and finger on his lips. His heart sank. Had he just sent these children to their deaths? He reached out, as if to stop them, to grab them, to keep them safe... but he was on the outside looking in through a window. And these children were on the other side of the room. He never had a chance of saving them.
The next few seconds seem to stop, as if someone had hit the pause button on life. Dallas would swear he aged several years in those few seconds as he waited for the gunshots to fire, but nothing happened. No shots fired off, no children struck down in cold blood. Had these children been with the group here? Had he misread this whole scene before him?
He didn't have much time to think about it before hearing a name he thought he'd never hear again. Adolphus.... His jaw clinched as he recalled that monster. What all that man had put them through, what he had taken from them. Good men and women lost, and for what?
A rage burned within Dallas as he recalled that man, his followers, and the chaos of everything that happened. Adolphus was not a man, he was a monster. And there were no tears shed over his passing... Dallas had been so lost in thought that he didn't even notice he was now bleeding. His hands gripping at the window sill so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Bits of the glass still there slicing through his skin.
He removed his hands, not even bothering to wrap them, not yet anyway. A voice called out, then another. They came his direction, a young voice labeling him a bandit, and another demanding he state his business. Shit, he had let his guard down and now they were ready for him. He really was slipping...
"Don't shoot," he called out to them; his voice a bit horse from lack of water over several days. "I'm not a bandit... I heard the gun shots and thought someone was in trouble." How ironic that it was now he who was in trouble. Always acting without much thought of the danger till it was staring him in the face... That was Dallas. "I came to see if anyone needed help..." He added the last part hesitantly. While it had been true, he didn't know the intent of the voices on the other side. And they had him at a huge disadvantage at this moment. For unlike them, he was not armed.
But then that feeling turned south, very south. The children, got up and walked out into the other room. Mimicking his shushing sound and finger on his lips. His heart sank. Had he just sent these children to their deaths? He reached out, as if to stop them, to grab them, to keep them safe... but he was on the outside looking in through a window. And these children were on the other side of the room. He never had a chance of saving them.
The next few seconds seem to stop, as if someone had hit the pause button on life. Dallas would swear he aged several years in those few seconds as he waited for the gunshots to fire, but nothing happened. No shots fired off, no children struck down in cold blood. Had these children been with the group here? Had he misread this whole scene before him?
He didn't have much time to think about it before hearing a name he thought he'd never hear again. Adolphus.... His jaw clinched as he recalled that monster. What all that man had put them through, what he had taken from them. Good men and women lost, and for what?
A rage burned within Dallas as he recalled that man, his followers, and the chaos of everything that happened. Adolphus was not a man, he was a monster. And there were no tears shed over his passing... Dallas had been so lost in thought that he didn't even notice he was now bleeding. His hands gripping at the window sill so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Bits of the glass still there slicing through his skin.
He removed his hands, not even bothering to wrap them, not yet anyway. A voice called out, then another. They came his direction, a young voice labeling him a bandit, and another demanding he state his business. Shit, he had let his guard down and now they were ready for him. He really was slipping...
"Don't shoot," he called out to them; his voice a bit horse from lack of water over several days. "I'm not a bandit... I heard the gun shots and thought someone was in trouble." How ironic that it was now he who was in trouble. Always acting without much thought of the danger till it was staring him in the face... That was Dallas. "I came to see if anyone needed help..." He added the last part hesitantly. While it had been true, he didn't know the intent of the voices on the other side. And they had him at a huge disadvantage at this moment. For unlike them, he was not armed.