The scene before him was clean and sharp as a gift of a knife.
He attacked them. You saw and shot. They'll vouch for you.
Movement of air told Rakitin he was edging forward.
Nika's voice caught and maintained, effigy of an echo.
Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.
He would never get a better chance.
"He must have." Was his own voice so clear and cold? It didn't matter. "He was looking for his next victim. There's the riddle. What happens when a coward gets cocky and lays down the things he hides behind?"
It did matter.
That was what stopped him, ultimately.
Mad dogs weren't shot in the streets and covered in easy lies. It was uncivilized.
It was too easy.
It stopped Rakitin long enough for the fatal flaw to strike him.
A midnight murderer caught in the act. It would be impeccable in the eyes of the sane.
The mad wouldn't care. They would seek retribution.
On perpetrator and witnesses alike.
Polya nearly stopped breathing at how easily he had almost fallen into the trap.
He kept his hands frozen, away from his gun.
This was not his way.
Striking at the guilty was not worth hiding behind the innocent.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2007-10-09 10:24 pm (UTC)Rakitin's mind sang with immaculate clarity.
Kill him now.
The scene before him was clean and sharp as a gift of a knife.
He attacked them. You saw and shot. They'll vouch for you.
Movement of air told Rakitin he was edging forward.
Nika's voice caught and maintained, effigy of an echo.
Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.
He would never get a better chance.
"He must have." Was his own voice so clear and cold? It didn't matter. "He was looking for his next victim. There's the riddle. What happens when a coward gets cocky and lays down the things he hides behind?"
It did matter.
That was what stopped him, ultimately.
Mad dogs weren't shot in the streets and covered in easy lies. It was uncivilized.
It was too easy.
It stopped Rakitin long enough for the fatal flaw to strike him.
A midnight murderer caught in the act. It would be impeccable in the eyes of the sane.
The mad wouldn't care. They would seek retribution.
On perpetrator and witnesses alike.
Polya nearly stopped breathing at how easily he had almost fallen into the trap.
He kept his hands frozen, away from his gun.
This was not his way.
Striking at the guilty was not worth hiding behind the innocent.
Justice would come under cover of daylight.
When the time came, he would burn alone.