SpecialKay
Star
- Joined
- Feb 1, 2011
Balin Hoffsteader surged forward, his teeth clenched down on the belt he placed between his lips. The leather-like fabric coiled around a wound, it was no mere flesh wound one could simply get over. Bullets...hurt like a bitch especially when they went through your arm. His feet moved quick as his body shook with each rushed step. Breaths coming out in short rapid bursts as he paced his speed, peering over his shoulder behind him as he knew he was being followed. The robbery had gone wrong...so incredibly wrong. A psychopathic teller had been in there, armed to the teeth with weapons he didn't even realize had the ability to be hidden. Barely escaping...a feat he never could have imagined doing.
Moments later it was obvious, the teller had chased him, firing wildly at his feet and around him trying to obviously take him down. "Fuck."Bale muttered calmly as he rushed forward, then it hit. The bullet began to penetrate his back. A moment of blackness, and then...
It was a calm afternoon in his apartment, everything was cool, the breeze flowed easily through the open window as he say up in a cold sweat. His shirtless torso encased in the clear beads of water that ran down his skin. His eyes lifted as he stared at the door. "Mothafucking dreams."Bale said calmly, his chest heaved back and forth as his heart paced at an abnormal rate. His hand ran over the side of the bed, his body shifted uneasily...what had gone on the day earlier? He could barely remember anything that happened within the last twenty four hours. Had he gotten drunk? Maybe even drugged? What exactly was going on?
The sheets came off his body as he tossed his legs over the side of the bed. Moving quickly to a standing position, his hands dropping to the coffee table next to his bed. Adorned in solely his undergarments and basketball shorts he moved slowly. A sense of vertigo hitting him quick, stunning him for mere moments before he crept into the hall...there was something off...but what was it?
Moments later it was obvious, the teller had chased him, firing wildly at his feet and around him trying to obviously take him down. "Fuck."Bale muttered calmly as he rushed forward, then it hit. The bullet began to penetrate his back. A moment of blackness, and then...
It was a calm afternoon in his apartment, everything was cool, the breeze flowed easily through the open window as he say up in a cold sweat. His shirtless torso encased in the clear beads of water that ran down his skin. His eyes lifted as he stared at the door. "Mothafucking dreams."Bale said calmly, his chest heaved back and forth as his heart paced at an abnormal rate. His hand ran over the side of the bed, his body shifted uneasily...what had gone on the day earlier? He could barely remember anything that happened within the last twenty four hours. Had he gotten drunk? Maybe even drugged? What exactly was going on?
The sheets came off his body as he tossed his legs over the side of the bed. Moving quickly to a standing position, his hands dropping to the coffee table next to his bed. Adorned in solely his undergarments and basketball shorts he moved slowly. A sense of vertigo hitting him quick, stunning him for mere moments before he crept into the hall...there was something off...but what was it?