[Isaac twists out of Hector’s grip, which is not unexpected, but the reach for his dagger is.
Hector staggers back, seeing the dagger morph into a torch to light a pyre. The stench of smoke and burning flesh choke his lungs.
He has no weapon, but he twists the fishing line around his hands in a makeshift garrote.
Something in Isaac’s countenance shifts, or seems to shift in Hector’s drugged eyes, and the torch becomes a bloodied stake torn from a jagged gash in Isaac’s side. Isaac, so cynical and cruel, who had nonetheless tried to trust in humanity again at Hector’s behest.
Hector twists his hands to untangle the rope, disgusted at the idea of strangling the life out of Isaac. The fish hook tears at his skin, and blood dribbled out, a little dark river in the black of the night.]
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Hector staggers back, seeing the dagger morph into a torch to light a pyre. The stench of smoke and burning flesh choke his lungs.
He has no weapon, but he twists the fishing line around his hands in a makeshift garrote.
Something in Isaac’s countenance shifts, or seems to shift in Hector’s drugged eyes, and the torch becomes a bloodied stake torn from a jagged gash in Isaac’s side. Isaac, so cynical and cruel, who had nonetheless tried to trust in humanity again at Hector’s behest.
Hector twists his hands to untangle the rope, disgusted at the idea of strangling the life out of Isaac. The fish hook tears at his skin, and blood dribbled out, a little dark river in the black of the night.]