Warnings: violence, swearing and scenes of an uncomfortable nature (non-con.)
Two weeks went by, in which Gilbert and Matthew had little contact - if they did talk it was via text - and the Canadian continued to visit his Russian captor, each time feeling like he'd crawled into a spider's web, only to be bitten and have his insides turn to mush before being cast savagely aside once more.
It was during the third week, on the second visit to Ivan's house that week, that things began to change.
So soon into this pathetic excuse of a relationship, Mattie's anger had been rising. With every thickly-accented word Ivan spoke, with every thrust into his supple body he became closer and closer to exploding.
Mattie was escorted into the large house, where he began to walk to Ivan's dark bedroom; his feet stopped. I have to say something to him.
"I-Ivan." The burly Russian turned to him, as unpredictable as an unexploded grenade. "Mm?" Cold, chafed hands gripped the fabric of his hoodie. "I d-don't want to do this today."
"Why is that?" His voice was so cold, colder than any Russian winter.
Mattie couldn't meet his glare. Not yet. "I'm sore, I'm exhausted...We're supposed to be in a relationship. Can't we just...relax for a while?" He gestured to the small TV in the corner of the spacious living-room.
Heavy footsteps made their way over to him and Ivan looked down at the blonde. "Нет, we are only doing what I want to do." Ivan whispered into Mattie's ear, "It appears as if we are in relationship. Really, I am your jailor."
"C-can't we just relax-?" Mattie was interrupted by a harsh slap to the face, one which brought tears to his eyes.
The beating was a new addition to this twisted agreement - though Ivan only ever slapped his face. The punches, bites and scratches were reserved for less visible body parts.
"Bedroom, now." Ivan's eyes were colder than any Russian winter, his tone sharp as a blade. It was the first time he'd ever commanded Matthew do this so soon after arriving.
Non, I will not conform to this. Hesitantly, the Canadian backed away, shaking his head. "Non."
Russian eyes widened.
"I will not. I can't take this anymore." The door, get to the door- a gloved hand gripped his shoulder. "Then you no longer want to protect Gilbert?" Mattie swallowed. "...I'll still protect him, but not like this. Not with you using me this way."
Suddenly he was in Ivan's strong arms again, fearful, with hands crushed to his chest. "Мэтти likes it rough. I hear him scream but it is not from pain." That got the blonde to blush slightly. I don't like it with him. I don't. I… Soft lips kissed his neck tenderly, and he melted into the touch.
"See?" Whispered Ivan, softening his hold on his prey. "See?"
"Y-y-you're not n-normally l-like this, Ivan…" Ivan's fingers stroked along Mattie's jaw, his chest, and down to his hips where they lifted his clothes and rested on bare hipbones. Mattie mewled softly, much to Ivan's delight.
Turning him around, Matthew's hands were placed on the wall, as the big-built man overpowering him slid the younger's trousers down partially. Just enough to get what he needed. "I-Ivan-" Stutters escaped the blonde, but Ivan was still being gentle. Still careful, as he released his own and then Mattie's member, palming it softly.
"Ah….N-non, I…"
"Shh," He murmured to him as he aligned his hardened organ, covered in slimy fluid. Ivan gave an abrupt thrust into Mattie, directly hitting his prostate.
"Ivan!" His legs almost buckled, but the smaller man held fell in pleasure and agony as his erection throbbed. Stop! Make it stop! I can't- I hate this! Pushing off the wall, Mattie pulled himself free of the Russian, his arm moving, fist curling - landing a right hook into Ivan's cheekbone.
He could feel his knuckles rattling and cracking, heard clicks as Ivan's teeth smashed together and his cheekbone bruising. Ivan didn't have time to register shock, only anger, as he saw his toy fix his trousers and make a beeline for the front door. Staggering after him, Ivan's hand clasped Mattie's sleeve.
The person who turned to him was not the Matthew Williams he knew. This one was stronger, determined, powerful - and more importantly, pissed off.
"Bastard!" Yelled Mattie as he swung his leg up, kicking Ivan's groin so hard Ivan could almost taste his testicles.
Mattie took his chance as Ivan crumpled to the floor, throwing open the door and his body through it, running, running, desperate to get away.
He felt like he was being chased by a cheetah, feet pounding the ground as if he was a jet on a runway. Home. Home is safe; he wouldn't dare get me at home. Mattie's body was still aching, the promise of ecstasy still lingering in his veins.
Arriving home, teary-eyed, clothing ragged, Matthew didn't see the white-haired man walking the opposite direction he was jogging -
"Oof!" He collided into the man, knocking them both down.
"O-oh! I-I'm sorry!" Yelped the blonde as he climbed to his feet, looking down hastily at… Gilbert. Gilbert's wide red eyes focused, and took Mattie's proffered hand to help him up. "Mattie? What's wrong?" His tone, the one portraying his concern since they had stopped hanging out, made the Canadian want to cry.
In fact, no, he did cry. Out in the open, careless, fearless. Through blurred vision he saw arms enveloping him. "Oh, Birdie….Let's get you home."
"N-not yet," Mattie decided, but they began to walk that way nonetheless. "I- I can't go home yet, I look…" Oh God, how did he look? Terrified? Traumatised? He felt that way.
"...Wo dann?" Asked Gilbert, worried. "Ludwig and Feli are hanging at mine...Ah, how 'bout a cafe?" Balled fists covered Mattie's mouth. "...Just until I can get cleaned up."
The cafe they'd visited had a bathroom, and now they were on their way back with Mattie feeling just a little bit more human. Looking like it, too. He smoothed down his hair hastily with water, readjusted his clothes and washed his face, making his bloodshot eyes less noticeable.
Warily, Gilbert stole a glance at him. "Matthew…"
"I don't want to talk right now, Gil." He couldn't bring himself to sound firm, but he hoped it was enough.
So no words were spoken until Mattie rapped his knuckles on the familiar door of his home. Idiot, he cursed internally, leaving my keys at home. Arthur opened the door, thick eyebrows raised at the miserable duo.
"Oh, hello, lads. You alright, Matthew?" Mattie put on a small smile and nodded. "Oui, I was coming back from Ivan's…"
"Ah, Gilbert was just asking if you were home," The older blonde chuckled. "I see he found you. Are you coming in, Gilbert?" Aforementioned man caught Mattie's lilac eyes. Discreetly, the Canadian sent a nod his way. I need to talk to you, Mattie. I've missed you.
"Ja, sicher."
Mattie left the bedroom door open, as per his parent's agreement, while Gilbert stood awkwardly in the centre of the Canadian-style room. They were both thinking the same thing: that the last time they'd been in here, almost three weeks earlier, Gilbert had kissed him.
"Uh...so, how's Ivan?" Bad question, you dick, don't make the situation worse!
Mattie looked tearful again. He remained standing, his hands clasped together. "A-actually….we broke up." Shock registered on Gilbert's unnervingly pale face. "Just now?"
"W-well...y-yeah…"
Gilbert's brow creased in frustration. "What did he do." Screw the facade, the protectiveness in his tone was undisguisable.
"Gil-"
"What happened!" Moving closer to him, Gilbert gently but firmly held Matthew's shoulders, as the blonde tried to stutter something about a mutual agreement-
A whimper escaped Mattie's throat, and he cringed. No, no, he'll find out! Cover it, cover it! "Please, I don't want to talk about Ivan...Gil, I let you come in because we haven't seen each other for a couple weeks, so just…"
The albino seemed to relax a little at that, but was obviously still irritated about Ivan, wondering what had gone on. "Ja….Es tut mir leid, I only wanted to make sure you weren't hurt." Embracing his friend softly, they stayed like that until the blonde moved his head, resting it on Gilbert's thin chest, exposing a portion of his neck.
There was a love bite there, picked out by Gilbert's ruby orbs. He ground his teeth and clamped his jaw. Then, he looked at it again. That's not a normal love bite. The skin was clearly punctured deeply by teeth, the scabs fresh and the bruising surrounding it dark in colour. That was more like a hallmark.
He placed a white fingertip near it, and Mattie jumped back.
"Was ist dass, Mattie?" His eyes were flaming again, nostrils flared in anger. Said man jolted, pulled his hair over it once more. "I-i-it's just a h-hickey, Gilbert-"
"Like fuck it is!" Came the heated response. "What else has that fucker done?" Mattie's eyes watered. He wouldn't show him, not now. He was tired of taking his clothes off for another person's benefit.
But Gilbert stepped closer, slowly. Matthew wouldn't meet his eyes and he felt like his heart was going to rip down the middle. Who in their right mind would want to hurt him? ….Maybe a person has to be crazy in order to do so.
"Mattie...please tell me I'm overreacting…" The white-haired man swallowed the lump in his throat, the distance between them but a few centimetres, yet it felt like miles. The petite man said no words.
"T-then, let me know for certain it was Ivan…" Unexpectedly Matthew lifted his head, jaw clamped, eyes seemingly swollen after crying so much before. His pupils dilated.
Holy shit, it really was him. Braginski's been beating up Mattie, and Gott knows what else he's been doing to him.
Inside his head, the cat awoke. It licked its lips, along it's fangs which grew in size. This was a bigger cat than the was a sleek black lioness, bare of mane yet cold in heart. She stood on the crevices of Gilbert's tortured thoughts and roared, pristine claws desperate to tear flesh.
The albino began to laugh. Not his mocking cackle, nor his sweet chuckle. This was the manic laughter of a madman drowning in the lust for revenge.
Mattie backed away, almost terrified. "G-Gil."
"...him…"
Blonde eyebrows furrowed. "What?" Gilbert had laughed so much he was bent double, thin hands clamped onto his knees; slowly, his head of layered white hair turned upwards, those red eyes practically sparking. "I'll kill him."
The Canadian took shuddering breaths, "Non, Gilbert, you can't-"
"I'll kill him!" He was making for the open door.
Mattie raced to it, shut and bolted it, as Gilbert loomed over him. "Open it, Mattie."
He shook his head. "I won't do that."
The lioness crouched, her blue eyes glistening in their black-lined sockets, ready to pounce. Wrong target, kitty.
"Matthew, open the door." Still the blonde refused, his voice growing firmer. "He's out of my life now. I have no reason to see him again. You don't need to do this."
"Ja I do!" His hands hit the door, either side of Mattie's head. "That bastard deserves death! Open the door!" Matthew was very aware of whom - what - he was dealing with. This wasn't the normal Gilbert; this was a wild animal on the verge of escape, and it was his job to keep the gate closed. He could see the hairs on Gilbert's hands stand up, like fur.
His nails were digging into the wood.
Hold him off until he's stable. He'll come to his senses soon, Mattie tried to reassure himself. He's got to.
"Why...why did you let him…" Those red eyes now looked lamenting. Gently, Mattie put a hand to the side of Gilbert's face. "I thought I loved him," He lied uncertainly. "I thought if I let him do that, then I was helping him. But I couldn't take it anymore."
"You shouldn't have taken it in the first place…" Gilbert leaned into the touch, calming down for a minute. I need to get his other hand off the door, he thought.
Softly, Gilbert pressed a kiss to Mattie's cheek, and then, sensing no refusal, planted another on the Canadian's lips. Mattie was stunned, but kissed back after a few seconds, his other hand leaving the door and wrapping around-
Thin air. Gilbert moved, unlocking and opening the bedroom door, snarling as he sprinted down the hallway and to the front door.
"Gil...GILBERT!" Mattie yelled after him, trying to catch up. His voice was so fucking quiet, why couldn't he make his voice loud enough?! "Gilbert, stop! He's after you, he's after you! This is what he wants!"
A startled Arthur, the only parent present, appeared. "What's all this commotion?" Gilbert was oblivious, opening the front door-
"Don't do it! Please!" Screams left Matthew's throat and followed him, but he was too far gone to hear.
Unable to chase him, too weak, too abused, Mattie sunk to the floor just inside the doorframe. He was talking about murder. I don't know what he's capable of in this state. He...he manipulated me.
I could've just released a killer.
Arthur stood behind him, utterly confused, as his son cried and the form of Gilbert Beilschmidt raced into the concrete jungle.
Thud, thud, thud, thud. He didn't know where he was running, only that he was on the hunt. He started to run in the direction he'd seen Mattie come from, eyes clenched open, darting around to get the best view of his surroundings.
A blinding darkness was descending onto the town, layering everything in black, some parts only kept at bay by petty lamp posts or house lights.
Luckily for him, Gilbert had cat's eyes: he felt people's presence before he saw them walking down the streets; he sensed where to run before his mind agreed. Past the coffee shop, past the local library, scanning over little alleyways and along roads. Eventually his legs had carried him to the edge of town, near to the multistory carpark.
Gilbert's feet tread lightly, like paws, making no sound as he approached another alleyway, the smell of rotting garbage strong as it had been left in wheelie bins for foxes to ravage. Steam coiled up from drains and the walls were lined with slime mould. His head was spinning after running for so long; it seemed like the walls of the buildings housing the alley were breathing. In, out, in, out. Rein, raus. Verdammt fiesling, Ivan!
Looking down at his feet, he noticed that the brown claws had grown from his toenails, puncturing through the rubber soles of his trainers. His hands, too, looked odd: the claws had replaced his fingernails, the blood dripping off of them from where they'd broken through the skin.
The lioness let out a mumble of a growl, but her attention was taken by another sound. Gilbert looked around as the sound came again: a malicious chuckle, wrapped thickly in a foreign accent.
Hiss! He moved too late, the lioness dug her teeth into his thoughts; a cold metal bar was placed over Gilbert's throat and he was yanked into the wall. A large body pressed against his, preventing any movement. He suddenly felt incredibly stupid. Dummkopf, running off with murder on the mind, and no fucking WEAPONS!
Out of the corner of his eyes, Gilbert could see two shadows. They looked like a man engaged in combat with a beast, though which one he was, Gilbert didn't know.
"Привет, Гилберт," Greeted Ivan in that thick mother tongue of his.
"Bastard," Retorted the albino, barely managing to breathe as the pipe was pressed into his jugular. Ivan pulled them away from the wall as Gilbert struggled, panting, feeling his head lighten.
"Disorientated prey cannot run," Commented the Russian, long trenchcoat flowing around his body. "Shame."
He wants a hunt, the German realised. He scowled. Then I'll give him one.
Throwing his head back in a sharp headbutt which caught Ivan's nose, Gilbert was subject to a few terrifying seconds of complete asphyxiation before the pipe was removed. Ivan cursed, already swinging the weapon back to the white-haired male.
Gilbert ducked while his head cleared, dodged another swing by millimetres.
Sucking in lungfuls of air he ran out of the alley, onto the empty street. As he ran, he saw his faint shadow in the darkness. With wide red eyes he observed it's transformation into a cat's shadow.
The lioness.
I can't turn and fight just yet; he's weakened me. Gott verdammt!
Gilbert couldn't hear another set of feet. In fact, other than his breathing and footsteps, everything seemed too quiet. Passing the library, next to the coffee shop, there were a couple of large skips. Darting behind them, he sat and listened.
Waited. Listened.
The only sound he heard was a growling deep inside his mind, that of a bloodthirsty mammal which shook his skull. Not yet, kitty. A stone bounced off the side of the skip, drawing a frightened yelp from the albino.
Dark laughter followed, and the massive frame of Ivan Braginski split the scene before those red orbs. "Are you not going to fight?"
"..." Getting to his feet, bracing his muscles, the albino replied darkly, "Nein. Ich werde dich töten." He launched himself at Ivan, the lead pipe deflecting off his forearms, as he gripped the pipe.
They pushed and pulled, Ivan trying to trip him but Gilbert was too fast; trying another tactic, Ivan brought his knee into Gilbert's hit knocked him down, his healing ribs having also been aggravated. He lay on the cold concrete, gasping, his head pounding.
"Pathetic boy." The words came from Ivan's lips, yet Gilbert heard two voices. One carried on speaking, echoing into his brain. So weak. So unstable. Let me take care of this. It was Ludwig's voice again, the perfect little brother he'd been overthroned by.
He could see the cat, lurking behind Ivan's silhouette. It grew again, it's fur seeming to mould into the Russian's, his pale hair mixing with the black. A dark lioness seemed to perch on his shoulders, both her paws draped on his chest and her head on top of his. Her long tail curled round his neck, the scarf turning obsidian.
Gilbert's blood turned cold as it locked gazes with him, the blue eyes like ice. It spoke inanimately, through Ludwig's voice again. Come on. Rip this monster to shreds.
Light drops of rain fell from the Heavens and tickled the skin of Gilbert's face as Ivan loomed above him, expectant. Cliché.
"Your move." The thick Russian accent bought his anger, his determination to the surface. As the rain steadily grew heavier Gilbert moved; he pushed himself backwards through Ivan's legs, feeling the concrete scrape his back as he rolled to the side, sprang up, ran again. With a shout the Russian rushed after him. Gilbert worried Ivan would throw his pipe at him, but amended that he wouldn't want to lose his weapon.
Beside him ran the lioness, her preened fur glinting under the streetlights, her claws clicking in time with Gilbert's heartbeats.
Higher ground. I need a place where I can see him but he can't see me. Ich brauche…. His eyes snapped to the colossal building to his left, a few metres away. The multistorey car park, which was surrounded by many rubbish skips full to the brim with trash bags and clutter.
He veered, his feet taking him over the ground floor, to the green door marked stairs.
As he bounded upwards, cursing that he hadn't taken the elevator. Faster, verdammt! 3rd Floor. 4th Floor. 5th Floor, putting him tens of feet in the air.
Gilbert paused, breathless, behind a stone pillar. It wasn't as good a vantage point as he'd expected. Yes, the staircases overlooked parts of the levels but there were still plenty of hiding places among the cars. He had to be careful: he was dealing with a hunter.
His ears picked up no stray sound, above the sound of clashing rain outside. "Come out, Ivan, you coward!" He yelled, fighting to keep his voice even.
A footstep was heard. Then another, coming from his right. Gilbert whirled, eyes wide, the pipe crashing into the side of his face, drawing a mangled scream from a tightened throat.
"You are the one who is running." Another blow landed on Gilbert, this time hitting his upper arm. "Gott dammit, you prick!"
He rolled, came up and tried to throw a left hook at Ivan's head but it was weak; Ivan sidestepped easily. The pipe swung again, hitting the pillar and making an echoing crack as it snapped under the force. The 5 metre metal length was now in two pieces: the 3 metre bit, and the 2 metre part Ivan was holding.
Sensing opportunity the white-haired man lunged across the blacktop for the 3 metre part, ignoring the throb of his bruised skull. His pale fingers grabbed it just as Ivan threw himself down, onto Gilbert, attempting again to suffocate him.
Evidently, there was something about this intimate modus operandii that called to the monstrously strong Russian.
Gilbert, now glancing into the heartless orbs owned by Ivan, immediately realised something: Ivan's killed before. He's lured people to his home before. He hurt Mattie.
It was no longer another man trying to kill him, oh no. A Siberian tiger, 4 metres long and weighing 300kg, was now wrestling him, it's massive paws holding down the pipe fragment to his jugular.
It was as white as the driven snow, a pure beast created for destruction. No...Gilbert thought, it didn't just represent chaos, it represented Ivan's insanity. Man and beast had merged, become one. At least Gilbert was still keeping his under wraps. As his body began to feel more distant he heard a snort of hot air, brushing his face.
The lioness was prowling, judging, snarling at Ivan. It's a much bigger cat, more powerful. I can't...I'm not strong enough… Gilbert understood why the black lioness hadn't attacked; she cared for her own safety more than his.
The purple eyes were the same, but sharper, concentrated on watching the life drain from the albino's devilish eyes, eagerly awaiting the thrill of the kill. "W-why...why do you want to kill me?" Choked Gilbert, wheezing heavily under the cat's weight let alone the pressure applied to his throat. The tiger bared its four-inch canines, reverting back to Ivan Braginski. "Some cats are territorial, Гилберт. It is only natural."
"Nein!" Gilbert coughed, saliva running down his mouth. The lioness hissed. "I'm n-not some prey! Y-you won't kill me-"
"Нет? But you came to kill me. And I don't want to die yet." Cold metal bit into pulsating flesh like the jaws of a rabid hound.
Now. Now, you stupid cat! The lioness jumped onto them both, her claws ripping Ivan's body - not that he felt anything - and melded herself to Gilbert's being, back inside his head. The albino blinked. When his eyes opened again, his eyesight seemed impeccably clear.
He could see Ivan's perspiration, the grains of gravel on the blacktop, the lattice of cracks in the storey ceiling, a solitary spider hanging from a delicate thread in the yellowy light.
Gilbert Beilschmidt had cat's eyes.
For the first time since they'd met, Ivan looked scared. All traces of glacial fur and tiger-like prowess disappeared to the aura of a common house-cat. Gilbert snarled, feeling fangs instead of human teeth scrape his lips, pushing the Russian off and away from him, crouching on his legs, shoulders hunched.
Ivan jittered to his booted feet, fear now obvious on his rounded features. He sprinted for the sixth Floor.
Gilbert didn't say anything; after all, cats didn't talk, did they? At least not to humans. His footing was sure and light as he chased after him, running up the car ramp into a fairly empty level. Still, Ivan was far ahead, whimpering, using his hands to grip railings to stop his shaking legs from buckling. Somehow, he'd seen that Gilbert wasn't himself right now: he was simply a predator looking for his hunter.
And that realisation shook him up more than any earthquake could. He'd hunted before, hurt before, captured many a snivelling homo sapien, but never had one turn the tables on him.
Now such a rebel was hot on his heels, a shadow filled with physical matter.
7th Floor, 8th Floor, 9th Floor and Ivan's breathing was thin, his huge body burdened with carrying its heavy weight at a high speed for so long. Something caught his eye; he spotted Gilbert running silently on top of car roofs, watching him, gaze calculating. Gilbert jumped off a green Clio's roof, his leg stuck out - his foot smashed into Ivan's side, jostling his balance. But he couldn't stop, he couldn't, he'd be killed!
A vicious roar, erupting from a human mouth, rang in his ears as he tripped, fell, onto the final Floor of the car park, completely open to the elements, the rain soaking him instantly. There were only two cars parked here: a Kia Rio and a 4x4. He dived behind the larger, uncaring of how pointless such a move was. Out of the dingy glow of the inside car park, footsteps deliberately slow and loud, came the albino. His eyes shone with a savage excitement as he advanced to the large vehicle.
His perfected sight picked up another detail: there was a slash in the fencing around the open top level, next to the 4x4, from where a car must have reversed into it.
That gash is wide enough to push a human through. That idea brought Gilbert back to his senses. Had he really just contemplated actual murder again? And - Wait, how did I get up here? I was on Floor 5…
Looking over the high bonnet of the car, he saw a cowering man. He hurt Mattie. He beat him up, scarred him, bit him. Death is a blessing for him.
Jumping over the hood, he hauled Ivan to his feet, kneeing his stomach and elbowing his back when he sank to his knees, spluttering. A punch to that oversized nose. Punch, punch, punch, Ivan yelping and mewling, his face caving in. "Нет! Нет, пожалуйста, не-" Gilbert growled and shoved him against the 4x4, panting heavily into his bloodied face, his grip tightening in rage.
"Armselig Drecksack!" Screamed the younger man, slamming Ivan's body into the metal. "You fucking hurt Matthew! You beat him! He didn't fucking do anything and you scarred him!"
I'll tear him apart, body and soul. Unexpectedly, a low chuckle escaped Ivan. "You are too protective of him. He was merely a toy."
A toy? Thought Gilbert, nostrils flared. A TOY?! He delivered another bone-shattering punch to the Russian's sturdy face: it was now hardly recognisable as human. "I'm protecting Mattie's innocence, his being! I'm defending it right now, you Schwanz! Ich-" Ivan began to chuckle again."What's so fucking funny?!"
A pause. Then, "Mattie has no innocence anymore, Гилберт." It was a sentence Gilbert never wanted to hear from this man, this monster. It was obvious he'd hit his best friend, but anything beyond that...had been shut out of his thought spectrum. He'd refused to believe it.
Oh, Gott, Mattie….my little Birdie…. He felt like blood was running into his eyes, adding to the sting of the lashing acid rainfall.
"I'll kill you, you worthless, savage sack of shit!" Gilbert went to shove Ivan to the hold in the fence, but a loud ssshick sound stopped him. He looked down.
Ivan had opened the hatch used for inserting oil to the 4x4, and was holding a lighter to it. The flame flickered like Gilbert's anger, but was fragile like his mentality.
"Вы не будете," Whispered Ivan just above the deluge, "because I will kill us both first."
"You wouldn't." It was clear Gilbert was afraid. If Ivan dropped it into the hatch…
"дa, I would." Fingers clenched the trenchcoat. "You s-said you didn't want to die." Smiling a bloody smile, the Russian whispered, "I said I didn't want to die yet. That was a few minutes ago now."
….Gilbert's shoulders slumped and he shut his eyes. It was a stalemate.
But not for long.
"Aaah!" He grabbed Ivan's shoulders, spun him a metre away and to the hole in the fencing, Ivan spreading his limbs at the last second to prevent his body falling through it. His back facing open air, his angered, cut-up face glaring hatred at the man trying to push him to his death. But Gilbert hesitated. He….couldn't. He couldn't kill him. Even after all he'd done, all he would probably do, he couldn't make himself take a life. I'm not...a murderer. I'm not the demon people think I am. He sighed. Ivan deserves death; that doesn't mean he'll get it. At least not by my hands. "I leave you your life," The German decided, his grip loosening. "Get out of this place, Ivan. Never come back. If you do, Mattie will turn you in to the Police, or worse," He leaned in. "I'll make sure you die."
Grinning like a madman, Ivan hissed, "до свидания, Гилберт!" and freed his arm holding the still-alight lighter over Gilbert's shoulder, pushing him away to sprint back into the car park. Within seconds, he was gone.
It was as if in slow-motion: Gilbert twisted his body, a shout of terror leaving his throat as he saw the lighter fly through the air, accurately aimed into the open hatch of the 4x4….
Nein. NEIN! He had no time to pause, no time to think. Gilbert stepped forward to the gash in the wire fencing, and looked down. He jumped as the two cars exploded.
A shockwave of heat enveloped him as fire spiralled upwards into the night sky, defeating the rain; Gilbert fell, the effusion of fire curling in his wake.
Both men had murder on their minds that night, but as it turned out, only one of them had ever had the courage to try and carry out the act.
Translations:
Wo dann? - Where then?
Was ist dass? - What is that?
Rein, raus. Verdammt fiesling, Ivan! - In, out. Damned git, Ivan!
Привет, Гилберт (Privet, Gilbert) - Hello, Gilbert
Nein. Ich werde dich töten - No. I will kill you
Ich brauche... - I need...
Нет! Нет, пожалуйста, не- (Nyet! Nyet, pozhaluysta, ne-) - No! No, please don't-
Armselig Drecksack! - Pathetic shit!
Schwanz! - Dick!
Вы не будете (Vy ne budete) - You will not
до свидания, Гилберт! (Do svidaniya, Gilbert) - Goodbye, Gilbert! (I am aware this is formal)
