"Mercy Killing"- War Of The Worlds III RP vs Danny MacNamara
Jun 6, 2020 13:22:20 GMT -5
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Post by Morgan Payne on Jun 6, 2020 13:22:20 GMT -5
She leaned forward, hands on the wall as the hot water ran down her body. She stared down between her feet as water, mixed with blood swirled down the drain as it was rinsed from her skin. Even as she stood within the safety of her own bathroom, she could feel the rush of the adrenaline still present in her system. Trembling all over, she closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. Every time she did, she saw them. She saw them in her mind: the faces of the dead on the floor in front of her. It felt so real, like she was right there back in that abandoned house, surrounded by their fresh corpses while the smell of things she didn’t want to know of wafted in under her nose. Morgan Payne pushed off of the wall and looked at her hands. She trembled, closing her eyes again. There it was: the blood on her hands as she stood in that old home. When her eyes snapped open again, her hands were clean; bruised but clean. Morgan stared at her hands again, balling them into fists. The funny thing about tonight was, Morgan had no idea what happened for her hands - or all of her, for that matter - to end up covered in so much blood.
Shit, what do I do?!
What would Coach do?
She thought to herself and next thing she knew, she was jumping into the driver seat of her Wrangler and firing up the engine. She peeled out of the parking spot, almost backing into another car. Morgan threw the Jeep into drive and pulled out of the parking lot with a squeal of her tires. She gunned the gas enough to avoid getting T-Boned by an oncoming F150, blowing its horn at her. She spotted the SUV and stayed on its tail.
Gotta keep back. Can’t let them see me.
She’d followed the SUV into a suburb, watching from a distance as the girl was pulled from the back by her three abductors. Two more men stepped out of the front door. That was five, at least. She grabbed Chloe, her shillelagh from the floor behind her seat and approached the house in the dark, out of the street lamps to stay hidden. She’d kicked that front door open, intent on taking them by surprise, but it was she who was caught by surprise. They had, indeed, caught onto her and were waiting. The biggest one grabbed her in a rear bearhug. She slammed her head back into his nose and started swinging her shillelagh. She took down the big man with a shot to the shoulder. She nailed the next one in the ribs but a third caught her across the jaw with a set of brass knuckles. She was down before the pain even registered in her jaw. She heard the girl’s muffled cries as one man held her back. The other four, including the two she’d taken shots at, were on her like a pack of dogs, stomping and kicking at her. Morgan tried curling into the fetal position, looking for a leg to grab so she could get out of there. Morgan didn’t fear for her life, for some reason. She felt...anger, of all things, beginning to boil up inside of her. She rolled onto her stomach but before she could cover her head, her face was stomped into the floor. Pain shot through her nose and she heard the cock of a gun as the barrel pressed to the back of her head. Morgan let out a loud, guttural scream as she lifted her head, blood pouring from her nose. Then, everything went black.
The next thing she remembered was standing in the center of the room, surrounded by five corpses on the floor. Morgan couldn’t remember what happened but she’d seen the broken limbs, heavy bruises and what looked like lacerations in their flesh. She stood there, trembling and covered in blood, staring as it dripped off of her hands….
She looked so different, sitting in front of the camera with the sides and back of her hair buzzed to the skin. The trimmed top hung down to one side, still damp from her shower. The camera caught her from the chest up where she wore a simple black tank top and probably matching shorts. Morgan looked to her right shoulder, lightly touching the tender wound where Danny MacNamara had sunk his teeth into her during an event in Puerto Rico. Yes, it still felt tender. It still throbbed a little. Morgan dropped her hand and stared at the floor.
“I get it now, Danny….”
She lifted her heterochromia eyes to the camera then with a mix of anger and sorrow visible within.
“I get it. You can’t be saved. Not everyone can. We….”
Morgan looked down again and sighed.
“He tried with you. He tried over and over again. He didn’t want the shit that blew up in that ring with Karen. None of us did. It should have never gotten to that point but here we are. You rejected him for the last time and he’s sending me in to finish you.”
She sat back in her chair, looking into the lens again with a cold expression.
“You said it wasn’t personal until we involved Karen. That’s where you’re wrong, Danny.”
She bit her bottom lip and sucked in a deep breath, letting it out.
“This got personal the moment you took a sledgehammer to your brother’s skull and left him laid out in the middle of a SCUM ring. It got personal the moment you stabbed the one person who tried to help you as a kid in the fucking back! Now, you and probably your sister too, are gonna ask what’s that gotta do with me? Why do I care so goddamn much what Danny MacNamara did to his brother, Connor? I care for the same reason Van Owen cares. He saved us. He saved me when I didn’t even know I needed saving. Connor helped me discover a part of me that was hidden so deep inside it might have never come to surface. It was potential that would have gone to waste but he helped me find it. He helped me face a past that I thought didn’t bother me anymore but the aftermath of it had been festering for years like a goddamn virus, eating me alive from the inside.”
Morgan extended an arm out in front of her, to the side of the camera.
“Ever since he put his hand out to me, I feel like a whole new person; a better person.”
She lowered her hand with a slap to her thigh and shook her head with frustration starting to show in her eyes.
“He tried the same with you. He tried to bring you back away from that dark path you’ve been goin’ down but you never took his hand. Instead, you just bit it again.”
Morgan glanced over to her shoulder and smiled bitterly at the camera.
“You’ve always been a biter, ain’t ya Danny? It’s one of the first things you became known for. The problem here is you went and bit off more than you can chew. You’re like a wolf who’s gone rabid, Danny, and as sad as it is for Na Fianna, your family, to admit...you need to be put down. When it comes to some people, that’s the only way. Some people, no matter what, are just better off being put down for the good of everyone else. Ain’t that what we do, Danny? Isn’t that the way of Na Fianna? So you should understand why when I say that it’s time to put down the dog. Do I expect you to just close your eyes and let it happen? Nah, man.”
Morgan cracks a grin at the corner of her mouth.
“I expect you to come at me, snarling and foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog does.”
She leans forward in her chair, elbows resting on her knees as she folds her hands together. Her toned, tatted up biceps visibly tense up.
“Right before I pull the fucking trigger.”
She sighs sadly and reaches up to switch the camera off, making the shot go black.
2 Hours Earlier
Morgan remembered stepping out of the Hot Spot station, with her pack of Newports as she walked to her Jeep. If she hadn’t turned away from the wind to light that first cigarette she might have never seen them; the two men that were forcing the girl into the back of the black SUV with a hand over her mouth. She ran back to the store entrance to get help from the clerk but she didn’t see him. Restroom? When she did a quick double-take back to the SUV, it was already backing out as the doors closed. There had to be a third individual driving.Shit, what do I do?!
What would Coach do?
She thought to herself and next thing she knew, she was jumping into the driver seat of her Wrangler and firing up the engine. She peeled out of the parking spot, almost backing into another car. Morgan threw the Jeep into drive and pulled out of the parking lot with a squeal of her tires. She gunned the gas enough to avoid getting T-Boned by an oncoming F150, blowing its horn at her. She spotted the SUV and stayed on its tail.
Gotta keep back. Can’t let them see me.
She’d followed the SUV into a suburb, watching from a distance as the girl was pulled from the back by her three abductors. Two more men stepped out of the front door. That was five, at least. She grabbed Chloe, her shillelagh from the floor behind her seat and approached the house in the dark, out of the street lamps to stay hidden. She’d kicked that front door open, intent on taking them by surprise, but it was she who was caught by surprise. They had, indeed, caught onto her and were waiting. The biggest one grabbed her in a rear bearhug. She slammed her head back into his nose and started swinging her shillelagh. She took down the big man with a shot to the shoulder. She nailed the next one in the ribs but a third caught her across the jaw with a set of brass knuckles. She was down before the pain even registered in her jaw. She heard the girl’s muffled cries as one man held her back. The other four, including the two she’d taken shots at, were on her like a pack of dogs, stomping and kicking at her. Morgan tried curling into the fetal position, looking for a leg to grab so she could get out of there. Morgan didn’t fear for her life, for some reason. She felt...anger, of all things, beginning to boil up inside of her. She rolled onto her stomach but before she could cover her head, her face was stomped into the floor. Pain shot through her nose and she heard the cock of a gun as the barrel pressed to the back of her head. Morgan let out a loud, guttural scream as she lifted her head, blood pouring from her nose. Then, everything went black.
The next thing she remembered was standing in the center of the room, surrounded by five corpses on the floor. Morgan couldn’t remember what happened but she’d seen the broken limbs, heavy bruises and what looked like lacerations in their flesh. She stood there, trembling and covered in blood, staring as it dripped off of her hands….
She looked so different, sitting in front of the camera with the sides and back of her hair buzzed to the skin. The trimmed top hung down to one side, still damp from her shower. The camera caught her from the chest up where she wore a simple black tank top and probably matching shorts. Morgan looked to her right shoulder, lightly touching the tender wound where Danny MacNamara had sunk his teeth into her during an event in Puerto Rico. Yes, it still felt tender. It still throbbed a little. Morgan dropped her hand and stared at the floor.
“I get it now, Danny….”
She lifted her heterochromia eyes to the camera then with a mix of anger and sorrow visible within.
“I get it. You can’t be saved. Not everyone can. We….”
Morgan looked down again and sighed.
“He tried with you. He tried over and over again. He didn’t want the shit that blew up in that ring with Karen. None of us did. It should have never gotten to that point but here we are. You rejected him for the last time and he’s sending me in to finish you.”
She sat back in her chair, looking into the lens again with a cold expression.
“You said it wasn’t personal until we involved Karen. That’s where you’re wrong, Danny.”
She bit her bottom lip and sucked in a deep breath, letting it out.
“This got personal the moment you took a sledgehammer to your brother’s skull and left him laid out in the middle of a SCUM ring. It got personal the moment you stabbed the one person who tried to help you as a kid in the fucking back! Now, you and probably your sister too, are gonna ask what’s that gotta do with me? Why do I care so goddamn much what Danny MacNamara did to his brother, Connor? I care for the same reason Van Owen cares. He saved us. He saved me when I didn’t even know I needed saving. Connor helped me discover a part of me that was hidden so deep inside it might have never come to surface. It was potential that would have gone to waste but he helped me find it. He helped me face a past that I thought didn’t bother me anymore but the aftermath of it had been festering for years like a goddamn virus, eating me alive from the inside.”
Morgan extended an arm out in front of her, to the side of the camera.
“Ever since he put his hand out to me, I feel like a whole new person; a better person.”
She lowered her hand with a slap to her thigh and shook her head with frustration starting to show in her eyes.
“He tried the same with you. He tried to bring you back away from that dark path you’ve been goin’ down but you never took his hand. Instead, you just bit it again.”
Morgan glanced over to her shoulder and smiled bitterly at the camera.
“You’ve always been a biter, ain’t ya Danny? It’s one of the first things you became known for. The problem here is you went and bit off more than you can chew. You’re like a wolf who’s gone rabid, Danny, and as sad as it is for Na Fianna, your family, to admit...you need to be put down. When it comes to some people, that’s the only way. Some people, no matter what, are just better off being put down for the good of everyone else. Ain’t that what we do, Danny? Isn’t that the way of Na Fianna? So you should understand why when I say that it’s time to put down the dog. Do I expect you to just close your eyes and let it happen? Nah, man.”
Morgan cracks a grin at the corner of her mouth.
“I expect you to come at me, snarling and foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog does.”
She leans forward in her chair, elbows resting on her knees as she folds her hands together. Her toned, tatted up biceps visibly tense up.
“Right before I pull the fucking trigger.”
She sighs sadly and reaches up to switch the camera off, making the shot go black.