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Holy shit, holy shit--- now, Caradoc felt his body begin pulse and throb to life because he was now, without a doubt, cornered with no where to go. Grayson kept approaching as if walking on water, completely unaffected by anything that Caradoc threw at him. And before he knew it, there Grayson was, standing just there in front of him, pulling out a knife in almost slow motion---

Caradoc's heart began to thud louder, as if calling to it, showing it where to go in every way possible--- why couldn't he move, why couldn't he move, he could do something about this, he could stop it, he could avoid it, he could--

howl.

He felt himself take in one shaking breath, refusing to scream out in any more pain than he already had. That would be letting him win--- though honestly, Caradoc was fairly certain Grayson (yes, it was him, he knew that now) had won. There was a gigantic knife jammed somewhere into his body (not his heart, no, he could feel his heart still pumping madly), while Grayson Wilkes hissed in his ear and thrust the blade further into his body.

This--- was--- painful. Grasping for air, Caradoc felt Grayson let go of him and he slipped to the ground almost immediately. Though that-- no, no, it felt like he couldn't breathe, his lungs hurt, they felt filled with--- smoke, or blood, he couldn't tell but it was painful. Not painful enough for him to lose conscious-- oh no. Again, that would be too easy. Which meant there would be more.

Despite himself, Caradoc groaned again as his hands automatically went to cover where the pain was coming from. Blood, blood--- so much blood.