Bill puffed openly on his cigarette, seeming to have no fear of the generator's sparking madness, unlike the other two that were with him. Despite the hectic scenario, he seemed to have no problem keeping his cool. Even as Quentin's side of the generator exploded to life, sending the exhausted boy sprawling away onto the marble floor. Feng hissed at him, her fingers shaking visibly as she scolded him.
"Quentin, what are you doing?! You're going to get us killed."
Bill sighed, letting his breath come out as a cloud of cigarette smoke before he stood up.
"Leave the kid alone. He's exhausted." The veteran kneeled down in front of the side Quentin had been working on. "C'mere, kids. Let me show you how to work this thing." Both of them crowded around Bill, although Feng was mumbling something about how she could figure it out due to how it resembled game mechanics. Bill side-eyed her, rolled the cigarette to a corner of his mouth with his tongue, then focused back towards the machine.
Pointing fingers in the contraption's chest, he began to demonstrate what wires to put together, what they should look for when it gets close to sparking or when there were bastard problems of getting it to even function properly. So far, it was pretty straightforward and after some time, the generator sparked to life.
It was no victory as it merely put a spotlight on the white-tiled hallway. Quentin swallowed and Bill could see that he was ready to simply fall over with a snore. With a heavy hand, he hit the boy on the back to generate a quick shock. "Come on, kid. Let's keep going. We've got more things to do. I'll teach you what we figured out."
Ba-thump.
Immediately, Feng was crouching down and hiding in the corner of the nearest room, hoping to remain discreet against the wall of the facility. Bill hastily grabbed at the top of Quentin's shoulder and began to briskly walk through the hallway. He wasn't used to the damn heartbeat, really. The man could only remember how it felt in his own chest to have such a heartbeat just before it fluttered out with his dying breath. The veteran briefly recalled the taste of the last cigarette as the world had gone black.
It was supposed to be for good. To let those kids live longer and experience life just a little more, even if it was in a zombie apocalypse. Even the usually, punchable Francis was in a good spot in his heart. Things were not so different, really. Here he was, working on the machine he just saw before letting the world go, protecting kids who had no idea what they were doing. Like him, they were forced in here, but unlike him, they had no training. At all.
They ducked down swiftly behind the curtained gurney. It was a risky move, as their shoes and legs were still showing, but it was all they could do right now as they looked left and right, keeping themselves on their toes. Bill didn't risk the move to peer through a hole in the blue curtain, but Quentin certainly did. The boy visibly shuddered and pulled away after a long moment, a hand coming up to his mouth that shook like an open leaf on the window.
"There's…there's so much blood on the gurney. It looks like…like…" Bill decided to risk it briefly. It looked like an old horror film had happened on the bed, making his nose wrinkle and brows furrow.
"Looks like a pregnancy happened or some shit." The look Quentin gave him was almost absolutely priceless, even if it was no laughing matter.
"Bill!" Quentin hissed as if trying to go into a scold without actually using words. The veteran couldn't help but crack a grin, causing his cigarette to lift before he turned away, just in time to feel all of the hair on his neck and arms lifting high. He was almost certain his beard was turning into a pompom as the electrical charge sounded by the wall, then lit up the floor.
Feng screamed, causing the sleep-deprived boy to jump and cower away. Less than a second later, the girl was sprinting off down the hall, her hair clearly frizzing and her teeth chattering from the charge. Bill watched the red glow follow after her, like a searchlight coated in paint from a sorority's party. The beast followed suit only half a step behind, his awful smile causing him to twitch.
If only I had a damn gun, he thought, nearly biting the butt of his cigarette as the heartbeat faded. Feng slid over a dropped palette and then swerved down the next corridor, disappearing with the lunatic.
Bill watched for a moment longer, taking a drag of his cigarette to see if his help was needed until he heard a generator click and sputter nearby. He whipped his head over out of instinct as if he was trying to aim the barrel of a shotgun in the next room over. Quentin was hard at work, keeping his hands steady on the pipes and bolts and leaving the rest of his body to shiver right into the molding carpet of grey.
The man had to give the kid props. Despite his awkward personality and state of fatigue, there was a certain air of leadership in him. Or confidence. It seemed he didn't want anyone else to get hurt while he tried to hide and avoid the monstrosity.
Bill joined him on the generator, just long enough to watch the second piston begin to move until he heard Feng scream again. After so long in combat, he knew that was the sound of pain, especially when she began violently cussing up a storm, despite her size and her child-like face.
Quentin stood up so fast that he proceeded to experience a dizzy spell until Bill set a hand on his shoulder, pushing back down to a crouch again.
"I want to help!" Quentin complained, trying to stand up against the veteran's hand.
He shook his head, turning with a hand on the front of his hat. "No. You stay here and finish that. I'm going to go get 'er." Without wasting any more time arguing with him, the man moved to a trot to get to where Feng could possibly have gone. He didn't need to think and ponder much as he realized what he could do was follow the heartbeat.
"Let me down! Let me down right now, you stupid electro-magnetic forcefield!"
Well, that was new vocabulary.
Unsurprisingly, as the beast walked by, Bill pinned himself against the wall, hoping to hide just beside a pallet. His knee was already giving him fits, but this wasn't going to stop him from getting close. Feng struggled like a wildcat, digging her nails into the shoulders of the madman and wiggling hard against his shoulder and veiny arm. From here, Bill could make out the different incisions, plugs and IV's that dangled from the doctor's skin like an awful mannequin put to work for an awful Halloween decoration.
What did they do in this hospital?
Rolling his shoulders, he followed right behind the two of them.
Feng was glaring deeply, so much so that she reminded him of Zoey for a minute. She mouthed, "Help me" while showing her gums, indicating she wanted him to know exactly what she wanted. She had no desire to be hooked on the meathook if that was even what it was.
Bill shook his head and crouched down close to the mad doctor's feet, looking at the broken tiles beneath his boots to avoid looking her in the face for a moment. The sound of meat sliding through the hook's tip was awful, even more so as she screamed at the top of her lungs, wasting no air in her diaphragm to show her pain.
A strange, almost electronic laugh slithered out of its lungs before it turned down the nearest hallway. Bill felt the brush of the coat as it spun around, electricity flicking off the fabric like raindrops that bit his skin. The spiked pike was slowly put down as the left hand came up, sparkling like lit fireworks.
Bill waited for a second before standing up, not believing his plan had worked of hiding directly under the killer's nose. Sadly, as she whined in pain and the hook jostled, it turned around. The veteran cursed and pulled her up then off.
"Go, kid, go!" She barely looked like she wanted to even walk as she tried to move forward, clutching her shoulder with an open mouth and a pale face. This was different from a video game.
He looked up then clapped his hands, noticing that the doctor's eyes were on her. He used an entire breath for this.
"Come on, soldier! We have no time for dawdling! Get back to the front lines and make for it like your life depends on it! Which it does! C'mon, don't waste time! Show me that you've been put 'ere in this battlefield because you're strong! Let's GO, soldier!"
The spiked weapon came down right across her back and Bill couldn't help but cringe, expecting her to crumble against the tiles.
But she didn't.
Feng Min suddenly tore off at an incredible speed, openly bleeding but holding herself together like a champ. Bill smiled and adjusted the cigarette, hearing the successful pop of another generator that Quentin was finished with.
The doctor turned to him, opened eyes rolling in their sockets to focus on the veteran. His fingers tightened on the weapon, then relaxed, tightened, then relaxed again, seeming to process the sudden loss of a victim. Bill waited for the rage, the satisfying sound of an enemy being beaten just one step ahead of the other.
A giggle resounded from the throat of the madman as he let down the pike and lifted his palm, his entire arm vibrating. It wasn't a charge this time, but unadulterated excitement. The excitement of the chase, of a pleasurable euphoria of working for your meals.
"Aw fuck."
Bill turned on his good leg and began to sprint off in the nearest direction that was away from the doctor, who continued to giggle like an automated toy. Wasting little time, he slammed the nearest pallet down as he turned the corner, limping away as fast as he could, eyeing everything. Tunnel vision was not going to work in this situation. He needed to know every corner, every window, every grass patch and upturned tile. Bill could memorize the entire area if he focused well enough.
Gurney after gurney passed by as he avoided hopping over tumbled trash bins. He could see the numerous clipboards and papers in the see-through mailboxes on the wall. Windows on the wall were slightly opened and surely rusted at the hinges, showing the snow that was trickling down into a possible yard.
Overshadowing him for just a moment was the awful glare of red until the pain of the spiked stick came down hard into the middle of his back. This was the initial attack. It hurt like hell, but he wasn't going down just from that little whack.
Latching his hands onto the chipping, rotting wood of an open vault, he threw his legs forward and landed steadily, avoiding the second attack of the madman. He heard the weapon hit the wood and from the sound of it, he knew there was a large chunk now missing.
Bill took this chance to dart around the corner and hide, waiting for the mechanical breathing to fade with the heartbeat. Did he know where he went?
Feng pinched her bleeding lips together, having already picked at the dry skin to death. It was a bad habit ever since she started playing games and now it was even worse as she focused on the deadly machine. She could see the belt of the machine beginning to steadily move and she didn't want her fingers to get chipped into the maw of this thing. Not while there was already blood on her back and her freshly helped wounds could be sniffed out.
She looked up temporarily, stopping her fingers so she wouldn't screw up. Quentin was hard at work, sweating everywhere and shaking. However, every now and then, he'd stop and begin to sway. Only before she barked his name did he stutter awake, eyes wide and full of horror. He would look around then return to work, like clockwork.
Honestly, she felt bad for him. What could he have possibly seen to not be able to sleep?
Despite these unfortunate circumstances, the man functioned surprisingly well. He had been able to seal up the bandaging splendidly on her torso and ribcage, wondering aloud as to how she survived the encounter before collapsing seconds ago.
A yell from the old man caused them both to jump, electrifying the generator just seconds away from going into full blast. Feng cursed up a storm.
"Goddamnit, I should have known that old geezer would have gotten caught. Fuck, piss! Of course, I have really unreliable teammates."
She kept her head down after saying that, seeing Quentin cringe away from the generator. It was the worst thing she could have said but she was simply getting peeved! This was why she always solo'ed her games and didn't like her subscribers participating in anything with her sessions. They can't be a proper distraction, they can't run, are too pussy to do anything and she was always the one having to do something and-!
Mid-thought, she watched the boy get up and walk away with sluggish feet, knees looking like they were wet noodles. Another slew of curse words flew from her mouth in panic this time before she called out.
"I-I didn't mean it! I swear! I just get grumpy!"
He didn't listen as he walked away, stumbling into the nearest wall before disappearing into a room. Once more, the gamer chewed on her lower lip then returned back to the generator, grumbling again.
"Okay, fine. Go away then. It's not like you were doing that good anyway."
The silence was almost maddening as she sat on the last piston, trying to get it going. Bill and Quentin were nowhere to be heard, seen, or even remotely sensed. There were no screams, no pallets being slammed and certainly no hum of a new generator being turned on at last. Except hers. It honestly surprised her as she wasn't paying attention to its progress, causing her to leap backward onto her feet.
Great, it was working now!
But what could she do but roam around, searching for machine after machine like some sort of animatronic? Feng rubbed at her upper lip nervously, feeling anxiety creeping up into the pit of her gut.
No, no, she thought, heaving in a deep sigh that allowed her to catch a whiff of the must and wet static. I can do this. I've always done it without teammates because it's easier to win like that. I can do it. I can do this. Giving herself an encouraging nod, she kept her head and back low, peering around corners before creeping through the open hallways, which she deemed not good at all. Sure, there were knooks and crannies to hide in when it came to being seen, but there wasn't anything to hide from when the shock therapy came. It was like an intense wave of dysphoria, jolting every inch of her nerves and causing her eyes to roll back into her head.
A pair of legs were around the corner and she nearly vomited in her mouth out of fright. The Doctor stared at her with bulging eyes and then suddenly vanished. She could still the silhouette of the man as if it was burned into her from how much he made her uncomfortable. In a way, fear drove her, but on the other hand, she really didn't want to lose to this guy for shit. Something compelled her to make him rot in the dust and leave him for good.
Cracking her filthy knuckles and spitting some of the upchuck on the filthy tile floor, Feng stood up from her sprawl on the floor to continue onward, feeling the electricity tugging at the ends of her hair. With her nails, she attempted to finger through it without spreading the old grease.
Proceeding through a pair of archways, she felt every hair on her body stand on end, her fingers quivering in awe and disgust. A meat hook stood proudly in this circle, where images and screaming static produced garbled language and flashed gorey images. She wanted to say they weren't real and compliment the video game artists for their pristine editing skills. She knew better as the electric chairs in the dead center sat next to her, open and the straps dangling to the floor, like a father's belt.
Feng cringed and looked around the room, making a mental note of the open windows, the stairwell, lockers and the pallet's that surrounded the room. It was a strange decor but it was the only one that she could rely on.
Squatting down, she listened to the throat language from the above TV's as she shivered from head to toe, the generator squeaking into motion with her help. At this point, she couldn't tell if it was from the shock or the fear of being next on that screen.
"Just keep going, Feng," she muttered, fingers shaking on the wires. A horror filled her, like a void that thirsted for the innards of her stomach. Her hands shook so terribly that she could do nothing but fumble for the electrical cord, hoping to piece it together before a surge came through. The end of the cord buzzed and swelled, signaling a surge just before it shot off.
Only at the last moment did she manage to fumble. Much to her relief, the explosion was very minor and much quieter than what it previously would have been, causing goosebumps of relief to coat her arms and legs. The gamer breathed a sigh of relief before going back to work, a little more confidence in her thoughts.
An obnoxious giggle breathed from behind the doorframe behind her and she wasted no time in hopping off of the generator and flying across the pathway. The idea of going back on the hook caused her insides to churn and her shoulder to burn. She wanted to have no idea as to what kind of STD's she got from that, or worse. Feng didn't know what was worse than STD's, which shouldn't even be on the meathook anyhow, but she didn't want to find out.
The heartbeat started up as soon as she took off running, thrumming hard into her ears. Sprinting through the overgrown lock of grass, she stopped at a leaning pallet, turning around to glare as viciously as possible. His loopy smile didn't change at all, not even in the slightest in those metals clamps. She also didn't take the time to study him as she put her hands on the wood. He stopped in the knee-high grass, beating the pike against his open palm. Just from standing near him did she feel a wave of unease fall into her stomach.
"What? Not going to do anything, asshole?"
Her blood ran as cold as a slushie as he spoke, his tone high and quivering in excitement. Or euphoria. He spoke like a child who had a mouthful of too much candy.
"Just watching your knees tremble like a weak cancer patient is wonderful." His voice became a wheeze as he watched her, eyes somehow popping out of his sockets more than usual. She cringed, causing him to visibly laugh as his shoulders shook. "I am going to do so much when I catch you," he whispered, gasping at the thought, his hand now wringing against the spiked weapon. It was as if he didn't feel the sharp edges dig into his palm, marring up his dried skin. "Searing your flesh with the electrodes and digging through your ribcage to just hear the bones crack. Lighting up your eyes with my electricity and savoring your screams of agony like a mundane being would to a choir!" He stretched his arms out, his voice rising in volume as he shared his fantasies of torture. Feng watched him become so excited that the ground lit up like millions of tiny snakes that snapped at her skin, searing the soles of her shoes as she stood there.
A cackle, like a clap of thunder, burst from him like the blood from an artery as he lunged. Feng fumbled and brought down the pallet too late, the pike hitting her hard in the side of her ribcage. Blood soaked her shirt quickly and she was cursing her luck in getting wounded. If she lost anymore...!
The Doctor fell hard against the open floor as the pallet landed directly on his head. The gamer didn't stick around to check on him as she sprinted off in another direction, trying to grit her teeth as she took a corner, blood seeping through her dirty fingers.
As she spun around the corner, nearly slipping on the tiles, a hand grabbed her shoulder and dragged her into a room. Her fraying mind caused her to panic as she squealed, flailing her arms against her assailant until they dropped her on the floor. Feng looked up, eyes seeking out the doctor's stretched face. She would have fully panicked if she hadn't seen the tired bags under the eyes that should not have been there.
"Come on, Feng, snap out of it!" Quentin, medkit in hand, was hitting her left then right cheek, trying to get her to wake up from her stupor. As soon as she saw it was him, she curled up her fist and hurled it right for his face. He moved out of the way, taking her by the arm to drag her into a corner of the room, back against the wall.
She didn't need to be told what to do as she listened for the doctor's footsteps amongst the fast-paced heartbeat. With a deep breath in, she let Quentin patch her up once more. He did so with fluid motions as the sound of the breaking pallet echoed down the corridor but Feng barely noticed. All she could do was see things from the corner of her eyes and shadows thriving from her lashes. Every time she shut her eyes, all she could see was the disgusting doctor with his maddening grin and roaming eyes.
She jumped as Quentin suddenly moved, holding onto her and putting her in the corner, his body hiding her almost completely. At first, Feng had no idea what he was doing aside from protecting her but he was going to get caught, too! What was this moron doing!?
The beast poked his head in and she shut her eyes tightly, holding her breath with the man that could probably sleep right onto her now if he chose to, the bastard. She waited with baited breath, trying to focus on something that would take her mind off of the images floating past her eyes such as MMORPG's, FPS and other games. Feng imagined a winning streak across the map in a PvP match, where the other players eventually left in a rage and she received MVP.
Her heart received the benefit of her imagery as it slowed down. The soft pat on her arm made her nearly flail again. The only thing that stopped her was the sudden sharpness in Quentin's eyes.
"H..Hey, what's with that look?" His eyes narrowed at her response and she felt her mouth go dry. He spoke in a low tone, his eyes remaining as sharp as a knife.
"I don't even a get thank you?" The gamer corrected herself, holding her hands up with a wince of pain and spoke quickly.
"I mean, yeah! Thanks... How, uh... How are the generators coming along?" It was the best idea of a conversation starter she had, but he seemed to want none of it. Quentin turned away with a frown tugging at the corner of his lips, medkit tightly held in his right fist.
"Fine."
In the distance, the sound of a generator popping was like a temporary pace of new music. Actually, no- It was like a triple kill in a MOBA. It was satisfying and extremely useful for them.
Quentin left not long after that, barely seconds, really. Feng watched him go, gritting her teeth slowly in distaste. As the heartbeat was no more, she decided it was good time to move along, wondering if Bill was okay.
Quentin unclenched his teeth before breathing in through his nose and letting out a bitter sigh, feeling the bags under his eyes hang heavy. He really, really wanted to like Feng. She was everything he wasn't. Sporty, competitive, and overall cheerfully into the setting of beating this madman's butt. He couldn't bring himself to acknowledge that she was anything but her attitude was extremely distasteful. It reminded him of his schoolmates.
Running a hand over his face, he leaned against a wall with a shaky breath, feeling every part of his body quiver. He could tell the difference between fatigue and the shockwaves now. The shockwaves were more violent, accompanied by painful twitching of the muscle while the fatigue was subtle and slowly rose to an extreme degree, to where he could hardly stand. It affected his knees the most.
The illusions of the doctor were driving him to believe he was truly insane. Each time he showed up in front of him, Quentin yelled and was forced to take cover, to hide from the heartbeat. He was certain this gave the other two time to recover in different parts of the facility, but he was so close to getting to a near death state. The boy could basically feel it digging into whatever kind of hope he had left. Or maybe it was courage...
"Quentin!" The hiss of his name caused him to jump, feeling all of his insides churn before he looked up. Swinging on a hook was Bill, who had his arms folded awkwardly and his teeth nearly biting into the entire butt of his cigarette. The male had his brow furrowed in pain, but then again he always seemed to look like that. "Get me down, kid. I already have a bad knee. I don't want this shit affecting my shoulder, too."
He really, really wanted to question how Bill was suddenly on the hook but the old man explained as he walked forward. "I had to finish the generator when he was around the corner. I'm pretty sure you were on it for a while, am I right?" Quentin looked a little awkward in hopes of lifting Bill off the hook that he didn't answer the question. Where was he even supposed to grab? The legs, the shoulders, the hips? Quentin moved to grab him by the shoulders and gingerly remove him from the hook. Bill bit into his cigarette butt so hard that he bit right through it, leaving the smoking thing to hit the floor.
"Quickly, quickly, Quentin, Jesus Christ!" With sweaty palms, he dropped the medkit and swiftly swung Bill's body as best as he could, using every ounce of his body weight to do so. Once Bill was off the hook, Quentin began to quickly apply the wrappings to his shoulder, knowing they had a surprising effect on the body. Feng seemed to do pretty well after her first attack and when he checked on her shoulder from the meathook, it had healed up all the way save for a small scab.
"Want some help with that?" Quentin jumped so hard he accidentally punched Bill's shoulder. Bill winced and used a fist to hit Quentin's hip, telling him to get over himself. Feng came over to help fix Quentin's mistake, improving their teamwork skills faster than beforehand. Judging by the lack of creasing in Bills' brow, he was definitely thankful for their teamwork. Once done, he rolled his new shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
"Not bad. I can actually feel like I own a body now. Or at least a shoulder." He ushered them both forward, pointing in silence in a direction. Quentin and Feng followed. The boy actively avoided looking at the gamer as he kept his eyes straight forward, eyeing the ground and anything else. He felt his fingers twitch as they rounded corner after corner, sometimes seeing the distance light of a generator down the hallways. Quentin had no idea where Bill was wanting to go and he assumed Feng was the same way. What was on this old veterans mind?
Bill pointed once again at a silent generator and that was the only cue they needed. Feng spoke. "Oh, there's an exit gate right by here, too! How did you know, Bill?"
The old man snorted as he squatted down. "You didn't think I was running away from the asshole blindly, now did ya?" Quentin felt a little bad considering whenever he ran, he immediately gained tunnel vision. He caught Bill's gaze, who motioned him down with a sort of fatherly comfort in his eyes. Quentin sighed through his nose and took up a part of the generator between the two, beginning to focus on it. If anything was coming, Feng was able to see down the hallway past the cubicles. Hopefully, she wouldn't try to leave them for dead. Surely not, right?
The first piston was soon set in motion, pumping hard to get gas flowing. The second slowly came to life as his palms started to sweat at the thought of someone watching them from a distance. As the third piston rolled into action, Feng crouched low and began to sneak away over to the exit gate.
Quentin didn't understand why the doors to this place were completely solid metal. It was the only exit to this place he felt. Was it even an entryway? He still didn't remember how he got here nor how long he had been here. All he could really remember were the two standing over him, Bill trying to get him to wake up.
He pulled away to rub his eyes with his wrists before looking up over the generator. Stalking suddenly down from around the corner was the doctor, eyes rolling in their sockets to land right on them, just as the fourth one was moving.
"B-Bill!" He ducked back down behind the generator to focus on it, watching the veteran from the corner of his eye get up and run off to one side, limping slightly from his bad knee. The heartbeat suddenly started hard in his ears, beating faster than when the Doctor usually approached. It was as if he had gained the ability to suppress his carnal urges before springing into action. Maybe if Bill held on for long enough, they could get the generator done and the door opened.
Quentin felt a hand on his shoulder and he found himself forcibly being removed from the generator. His heart skipped a beat as he flailed before being thrown to the floor. He yelled as he kicked and threw his arms around, fighting against the hand that was now picking him up by the back of his shirt.
"Let go of me! Let go of me!" He grunted, feeling the shoulder dig into his ribcage. Tunnel vision accompanied him as he struggled, almost falling off of the doctor's shoulder until his arm came up around his waist. It held him fast, no matter how hard he beat his fists into his back. It was like punching steel! There was still the slight feel of flesh beneath the clothing but it was like 100% muscle!
As he struggled, he heard the generator come to life and he felt fear swell up in his gut. They wouldn't leave him for dead, right? Quentin gritted his teeth, feeling the nervous sweat run down behind his neck.
"Hey, asshole!" Quentin looked up just in time to see Feng while the Doctor spun around, nearly making the boy vomit. With an odd noise, the madman suddenly dropped Quentin and the boy almost missed landing on his feet. Feng grabbed his shoulder and began to drag him off with her free hand, a flashlight in the other that barely seemed like it was functioning.
"When did you get a flashlight?" Quentin asked, his voice a little higher pitched than what he liked. She then pushed him through a small space only to follow him and throw down the pallet before continuing to run.
"Bill gave it to me. Threw it at my face and told me to shine it in his eyes. Not like the asshole can blink, anyway. So I thought it was a good idea. It worked." She grabbed his wrist this time and made it for the door with the doctor only seconds behind, the great iron doors opened with the help of Bill, who stayed behind to make sure they made past the doors. The veteran now turned to run for the open land, sweat glistening on his brow.
Quentin felt the blade hit his spine and he screamed, immediately falling to the floor and hitting the hard concrete, blood flowing freely from his back. Feng tripped with him and let go of his wrist, causing her to curse up a storm. Quentin felt all energy leave his body as he simply laid there, long enough to feel two hands on him; Bill and the Doctor.
The veteran loudly cursed before he bent down, holding onto Quentin's wrist for dear life as he picked up the flashlight and threw it as hard as he could at the grinning face.
"Get the fuck outta here!" The hand loosened just enough to where Bill was able to pull Quentin over the concrete. The boy turned his head to see the doctor holding his mouth before he lunged forward.
Quentin felt as if he saw his life flash in front of his eyes in a blur of colors and his chest tightened for the blow he couldn't look away from.
Black spikes sprouted from the ground tinted orange and glowing like a wrathful entity. The Doctor made a noise of distaste that soon became a strangled roar. Feng, who was standing next to the two, stuck her tongue out at him and gave the middle finger as boldly as ever.
"That's what you get, you fucking loser!"
An arm around his waist, much more gentle than the tight vise of the doctor's, helped him up, a hand forcing his arm to go around the sweaty neck of Bill.
"Come on, kid. Quick lolly-gagging around and move."
Feng stuck her second finger up to the doctor before turning, walking into the impressive woods before them. Behind them came the frustrated screeching of the Doctor who had just lost his playthings.
Quentin shuddered at the thought of being put on display.