"I'm sorry, Mom." His aim shifted and the gun muzzle was pressed under his chin. He couldn't trust himself not to hurt her. It would kill him if he did. If he was going to die, it would be his way. "I won't be anybody's weapon. Not Red Room's. Not Weapon X's."
(Read comments)
Post a comment in response:
scribbld is part of the horse.13 network
Design by Jimmy B.
Logo created by 
hitsuzen.
Scribbld System Status
