Benediction
summary: deliverance.
warning: character death
+
"I’m going to give you one more chance."
The edge of the silencer brushes up against her forehead. Beads of sweat trickle down a face as pale as the snow falling outside the warehouse. The chill of the concrete creeps up her knees, her hands. She trembles.
"I can’t, Peter. You know I can’t." A rough whisper, the voice of a woman who knows she’s damned. She bows her head, perhaps in acceptance of her fate or an act meant to invoke his sympathy. But if this woman knows him at all, then she knows exactly why there has ever only been one Peacemaker.
Peter gazes down at her, almost with benevolence, like a god who has decided to forgive his child.
"Then our business is done here," he says softly.
He pulls the trigger. Then lowers the gun slowly, leaning down to meet her wide, unseeing eyes, a trail of red flowing down her face. The silver cross around his neck sways back and forth, ticking away time. He brings a hand up, encased in black sheepskin, and gently runs a thumb over the gunshot wound. Blood streaks across, making a mark, and he murmurs quietly,
"May God be with you, Kate."
warning: character death
+
"I’m going to give you one more chance."
The edge of the silencer brushes up against her forehead. Beads of sweat trickle down a face as pale as the snow falling outside the warehouse. The chill of the concrete creeps up her knees, her hands. She trembles.
"I can’t, Peter. You know I can’t." A rough whisper, the voice of a woman who knows she’s damned. She bows her head, perhaps in acceptance of her fate or an act meant to invoke his sympathy. But if this woman knows him at all, then she knows exactly why there has ever only been one Peacemaker.
Peter gazes down at her, almost with benevolence, like a god who has decided to forgive his child.
"Then our business is done here," he says softly.
He pulls the trigger. Then lowers the gun slowly, leaning down to meet her wide, unseeing eyes, a trail of red flowing down her face. The silver cross around his neck sways back and forth, ticking away time. He brings a hand up, encased in black sheepskin, and gently runs a thumb over the gunshot wound. Blood streaks across, making a mark, and he murmurs quietly,
"May God be with you, Kate."