She was peering into the room, staring at the man who was clearly on his toes, ready to jump from his seat to douse any fire should one miraculously start. she hurriedly tore herself away when she saw his head tilt, with her palms clasp together and a single thought that he missed his observer. perspiration trickled down her neck to join the others that mutated into the large patch beneath the laces of her dress. she decided to take the risk and peered through the crevice of that immensely heavy door, watching the man's fingers tapping wildly as sounds of gunfire mimicked his movement. she was so preoccupied with the man that she failed to notice the shadow that was beside her as it insidiously grew into a blotch that no light could penetrate. by the time she noticed the darkness a hand swiftly slithered to her mouth while the other wrangled her throat to muffle a reflexive gasp.
she struggled while her throat failed to produce that piercing scream amidst the aggressor's brute strength. within moments she felt her life slowly draining away despite her fruitless efforts to call out to anyone. because the aggressor was dressed wholly in black, one could not see his reaction to all of this, save the half-mooned revelation of his muddy, crooked teeth as his victim's body slackened.
there was nothing anyone could do to stop him from finishing his job.
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inspiration:
Amsterdam (Ian McEwan), the climax scene for Clive.
the medieval period where Keira Knightly had somehow landed herself into.
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pondering:
is physical attraction more important than mental acuity?
what use is the former if no one would bother listening to a vacuos vessel?
but what use is the latter if you lack the looks to command attention from others?
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