So am I still waiting
For this world to stop hating
Can't find a good reason
Can't find hope to believe in
Tell me, what would you say
I'd say it's up to me
Time won't make things better
I feel so alone
If this is worthless
Tell me so
What have we done
We're in a war that can't be won...
~Still Waiting
* * * * * * * * * *
Monica fought for breath as Wild Bill's arms clasped tightly around her neck and chest, drunkenly. He gave a light, manic giggle as Percy dove forward to relieve the girl from the prisoner, but he was stopped in his tracks by a warning stomp and a tighter grip on Monica.
"Don't you move, there," Bill slurred warningly in Percy's direction. He froze obediently, not wanting to hurt Monica. "You just hand over your keys and I'll be out, thank you."
The guard did nothing.
"Limp noodle ain't gonna listen to me?" Bill asked warily. With that, he lifted his foot and pulled out a gun that had been hidden in his shoe for such an occasion. It was Paul's gun; when the boss had taken John Coffey by Wild Bill's cell, he was so distracted by the one hand on Coffey's arm, that he didn't notice the other sneak into his holster...
"What the hell are you doing!? Don't TOUCH HER!" Percy gasped, wishing he had a gun on him as well, but instead imagined the gun that was stored away in a desk drawer some miles away.
Bill held the gun to Monica's head by shifting his arms so that one was locked tightly around her neck and the other was free for him to do with as he pleased; like point a pistol. "You want to negotiate?" He jammed the gun roughly into Monica's temple, and she squeezed her eyes shut, not even daring to scream.
"I don't have any keys on me," Percy said panicky, his breathing shallow. "Don't hurt her!"
"Purty Percy's gonna do something about it?" Bill pouted mockingly. Then he grinned with a mixture of such malice and insane happiness, that it sent a shiver up the guard's spine, as adrenaline-rushed as he was at the moment. "Well?" he jabbed the gun harder, more threateningly.
With hardly a moment's hesitation, too surprising for Bill to predict, Monica used the heel of her pointed shoe to kick back as hard as she could below the belt, and the short instant in which Wild Bill lurched forward in pain, she slipped from his grasp, collapsing to the floor below. He still held his gun weakly, and when Percy leapt to accompany Monica, Bill took a shot.
And his aim was true.
In an instant scene of confusion, Percy fell back by the force of the bullet, and Bill dropped the gun right there, dozing off at perfect timing; slumped against the bars of his cell. Monica gaped, wide-eyed in shock at what had just happened, unable to tear her horrified stare away from the fallen guard, who lay on his back, unconscious; blood spreading across his white dinner shirt.
She forced herself to look away, and in a moment of extreme fury, took up the gun that Bill had dropped, and pulled the trigger; the remaining five bullets being emptied into the doped target. She seemed not to notice that the gun was out of ammunition, and kept clicking away, even though Wild Bill was already dead, blood pouring from his wounds and mouth onto the cement floor of his cell. It was amazing that Monica got herself to pry the pistol from her own fingers and finally fling it into a corner before shouting in contempt.
"I hope you rot in hell! You twisted son of a b-..." her words caught in her throat as it knotted, and it suddenly became hard for her to see through her blurry eyes. Rushing to Percy's aid, falling to his side and hardly daring to touch him, Monica screamed for help as loudly as she could. But nobody came.
"-SOMEBODY! COME QUICK, HELP HIM, HE'S DYING, GOD, SOMEBODY, COME! HELP HIM, HELP-"
The door to E block burst open, and Dean rushed in, Monica's screams stopping abruptly. He stopped in his tracks and looked at the blood. He looked at Wild Bill. He looked at Monica, and Percy's torso in her lap. His mouth dropped.
"The prisoner! He shot him!" Monica sobbed almost hysterically. "You have to help him, he's dying!"
"Calm down, ma'am," Dean said faintly. "We'll call a medic..."
"Dial the damn numbers!" she yelled, searching the place with her eyes for a phone.
Dean rushed to Paul's office, and Monica heard him dial the hospital, and barely made out his conversation, picking up words like "emergency" and "ambulance". When he returned to the scene, he walked slowly, as if the others would disappear if he waited long enough.
"They're not going to make it in time," Monica muttered, her eyes filling with tears again. "We can't do anything for him."
Dean didn't reply.
All they could do was wait.
A/N: I had to make this chapter w/o you, Toge! But that's all right, I'm sure you liked this chapter! Right? Ummm... more to come! I predict maybe two or three more chapter! The end of Percy? We'll just have to wait and find out. :D :D :D :D :D
For this world to stop hating
Can't find a good reason
Can't find hope to believe in
Tell me, what would you say
I'd say it's up to me
Time won't make things better
I feel so alone
If this is worthless
Tell me so
What have we done
We're in a war that can't be won...
~Still Waiting
* * * * * * * * * *
Monica fought for breath as Wild Bill's arms clasped tightly around her neck and chest, drunkenly. He gave a light, manic giggle as Percy dove forward to relieve the girl from the prisoner, but he was stopped in his tracks by a warning stomp and a tighter grip on Monica.
"Don't you move, there," Bill slurred warningly in Percy's direction. He froze obediently, not wanting to hurt Monica. "You just hand over your keys and I'll be out, thank you."
The guard did nothing.
"Limp noodle ain't gonna listen to me?" Bill asked warily. With that, he lifted his foot and pulled out a gun that had been hidden in his shoe for such an occasion. It was Paul's gun; when the boss had taken John Coffey by Wild Bill's cell, he was so distracted by the one hand on Coffey's arm, that he didn't notice the other sneak into his holster...
"What the hell are you doing!? Don't TOUCH HER!" Percy gasped, wishing he had a gun on him as well, but instead imagined the gun that was stored away in a desk drawer some miles away.
Bill held the gun to Monica's head by shifting his arms so that one was locked tightly around her neck and the other was free for him to do with as he pleased; like point a pistol. "You want to negotiate?" He jammed the gun roughly into Monica's temple, and she squeezed her eyes shut, not even daring to scream.
"I don't have any keys on me," Percy said panicky, his breathing shallow. "Don't hurt her!"
"Purty Percy's gonna do something about it?" Bill pouted mockingly. Then he grinned with a mixture of such malice and insane happiness, that it sent a shiver up the guard's spine, as adrenaline-rushed as he was at the moment. "Well?" he jabbed the gun harder, more threateningly.
With hardly a moment's hesitation, too surprising for Bill to predict, Monica used the heel of her pointed shoe to kick back as hard as she could below the belt, and the short instant in which Wild Bill lurched forward in pain, she slipped from his grasp, collapsing to the floor below. He still held his gun weakly, and when Percy leapt to accompany Monica, Bill took a shot.
And his aim was true.
In an instant scene of confusion, Percy fell back by the force of the bullet, and Bill dropped the gun right there, dozing off at perfect timing; slumped against the bars of his cell. Monica gaped, wide-eyed in shock at what had just happened, unable to tear her horrified stare away from the fallen guard, who lay on his back, unconscious; blood spreading across his white dinner shirt.
She forced herself to look away, and in a moment of extreme fury, took up the gun that Bill had dropped, and pulled the trigger; the remaining five bullets being emptied into the doped target. She seemed not to notice that the gun was out of ammunition, and kept clicking away, even though Wild Bill was already dead, blood pouring from his wounds and mouth onto the cement floor of his cell. It was amazing that Monica got herself to pry the pistol from her own fingers and finally fling it into a corner before shouting in contempt.
"I hope you rot in hell! You twisted son of a b-..." her words caught in her throat as it knotted, and it suddenly became hard for her to see through her blurry eyes. Rushing to Percy's aid, falling to his side and hardly daring to touch him, Monica screamed for help as loudly as she could. But nobody came.
"-SOMEBODY! COME QUICK, HELP HIM, HE'S DYING, GOD, SOMEBODY, COME! HELP HIM, HELP-"
The door to E block burst open, and Dean rushed in, Monica's screams stopping abruptly. He stopped in his tracks and looked at the blood. He looked at Wild Bill. He looked at Monica, and Percy's torso in her lap. His mouth dropped.
"The prisoner! He shot him!" Monica sobbed almost hysterically. "You have to help him, he's dying!"
"Calm down, ma'am," Dean said faintly. "We'll call a medic..."
"Dial the damn numbers!" she yelled, searching the place with her eyes for a phone.
Dean rushed to Paul's office, and Monica heard him dial the hospital, and barely made out his conversation, picking up words like "emergency" and "ambulance". When he returned to the scene, he walked slowly, as if the others would disappear if he waited long enough.
"They're not going to make it in time," Monica muttered, her eyes filling with tears again. "We can't do anything for him."
Dean didn't reply.
All they could do was wait.
A/N: I had to make this chapter w/o you, Toge! But that's all right, I'm sure you liked this chapter! Right? Ummm... more to come! I predict maybe two or three more chapter! The end of Percy? We'll just have to wait and find out. :D :D :D :D :D