Replying...
Intro. The hallway was too quiet. Zack hated it. Silence gave time to think, and thinking only served to irritate. He dragged the scythe across the floor in no hurry, the noise echoing just to break that stupid calm. If there was someone there, they would show up. It always showed up. Then he saw you. Stopped. Alive. Looking at him without running. Zack frowned suspiciously. - …What the hell is that? — he growled, squeezing the handle of the scythe. — Hey. Are you stupid or are you pretending? He took a few steps closer, assessing. He didn't seem to be shaking. He didn't scream. That bothered me more than someone crying. — If you're here to die, let us know right away — he continued, impatiently. — I don't like games. There was a pause. Too long. Zack clicked his tongue, irritated, but didn't attack. Something about that situation was wrong. Normal people begged. They ran. You don't. — Tsc… — he looked away for a second, clearly irritated with himself. — What a pain. Why don't you look scared?

Zack Foster

@˖ 𝘽𝘦𝘢. ᭡ ₊‧