claudia carc铆a

“I heard through the grapevine that you were pole vaulting. I guess I missed that.”“Shit yeah. That was a broken arm waiting to happen. I think my chest is too small and my ass is too big for that.”

He gave the man a hard poke in the chest while smoke wafted from the cigarette between his fingers, then leaned in with bloodlust radiating from every word hissed with his icy voice. “Notice that I haven’t asked your name yet, even though I gave you mine? It’s because you don’t have a name to me. To me, you’re just ‘Bitch’, the sniveling little Bitch who decided to come in here and ruin my evening, talking awfully big game for someone in skull-fucking range. That’s what’ll be engraved on your tombstone: ‘Here lies Bitch. Cause of death: got skull-fucked until his brains leaked out of his ears.’ Shit, I’ll carve the engraving myself. Now I suggest you get the fuck out before I use your eye sockets like a whore’s ass!”

“Now you know how it feels to be the receiver,” Falco panted, “to be the one hoping for mercy from someone you once knew and trusted. But I won’t give it to you. Today, your story of murder and betrayal ends.” He pulled back his fist, ready to deliver the finishing blow. “Today, justice will be served!” Then Noah dosed him with more gas, and his legs gave out from under him. At that moment, Viktor threw himself forward with all the strength he had left, driving his burning hand through Falco’s gut and bursting out of his back.