The Long Con

This was bad. His lower limbs scrambled, helping to try and brace and shove the heavy iron to no avail. In the black choking fog his foot would slip, knocking him forwards and snagging free the nail biting grip he’d had. His reflexes sent him back up onto his feet, head twisted, this way and that in a desperate search for any spark of light. While living his life in the shadows, he knew the dark, but this void only gave way to one master.

His eyes found as she skulked out of the gloom. His chest grew tight, painfully so, with the rapid beating of his heart. Panic was beginning to set in as fire seemed to begin coursing through him, the scalding sensation sending his body into a spasm of agony. Eyes squinted between the searing fire running throughout, glaring at the tricksy bitch as it tempered when submitting to her will. What the fuck bullshit was this? His breathing became raspy, and Colt growled during the peaks until finally forced to his knees.

[color=#c10300]“Fuuuuuuck’in hell. Just take the gold, fuck!”[/color] his voice strained, Colt’s body fell forwards, hands splayed out to hold what dignity he could. [color=#c10300]“How about you just take back your shit and we call it fuckin’ evens. You made your point!”[/color]