[And on it goes. Matt takes his beating without a simple complaint - every snarl, bite, crunch or ripping is met with grunts or stoic silence. He sure as hell can hold his own, but it's a hopeless battle. The longer this goes on, the more distressed those kids yet.]
[Why are they still here, watching? He should've knocked them out. They shouldn't have to watch this.]
[Finally, he rolls away away from the dogs long enough to snag his gun. It's loaded, of course he is, and at the back of mind, he doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want someone to have to tell Foggy, or Karen, or Claire - that's he's gone, just as two of them expected. Just like Foggy warned him.]
[Suicide was a sin in the eyes of God, wasn't it? Not that Matt hadn't do anything but sin. And now, priestless, in this last moments, he can't confess. It doesn't matter. He wouldn't ask for forgiveness even if he could - he can only pray that these two are right to believe in their plan, that they aren't being tricked, that they can still make it out alive. That they won't be trapped in a fate worse than death.]
[A few mantears well up, unbidden. He raises the gun to his forehead, squeezing the trigger---]
no subject
[Why are they still here, watching? He should've knocked them out. They shouldn't have to watch this.]
[Finally, he rolls away away from the dogs long enough to snag his gun. It's loaded, of course he is, and at the back of mind, he doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want someone to have to tell Foggy, or Karen, or Claire - that's he's gone, just as two of them expected. Just like Foggy warned him.]
[Suicide was a sin in the eyes of God, wasn't it? Not that Matt hadn't do anything but sin. And now, priestless, in this last moments, he can't confess. It doesn't matter. He wouldn't ask for forgiveness even if he could - he can only pray that these two are right to believe in their plan, that they aren't being tricked, that they can still make it out alive. That they won't be trapped in a fate worse than death.]
[A few mantears well up, unbidden. He raises the gun to his forehead, squeezing the trigger---]
[---And of course the damn thing jams.]