As Mr. Threepwood hesitated on following Mr. Javert's order, so did Ema. Her expression of uncertainty in leaving the latter behind was never answered; instead, she got to watch him be attacked and mortally wounded by the horror that had found them in this hallway. What little she could make out was terrible enough, with the giant stinger and swinging blades and hooked tentacles ensnaring the man and holding him still while ripping into him.
Worse, she could hear the tearing of flesh and breaking of bone. And she could smell the blood, both of Mr. Javert and of the creature. It took everything she had not to get sick right then and there.
The way this had unfolded was like that night in Chief Gant's office two years ago. Mr. Javert was about to die in order to save her, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to help him. She couldn't even attempt to break up the fight, given that this creature would more likely kill her than succumb to being shoved over. Really, the only course of action would be to follow his last request and get the hell out of there.
There was a problem with that course of action, however.
Ema couldn't bring herself to move and leave him alone there.
The fact that she was screaming in fear, (emotional) pain, and preemptive grief didn't help things, either.
Even after spending the past two years trying to train herself to react more effectively to a situation in which she--and other people--were in danger, all of that effort was amounting to almost nothing at the moment. The emotional burden was too much, and it was a miracle in and of itself that she hadn't fainted as her body went practically catatonic. If she was to get away, she was going to need a shock to her system. Hopefully, Mr. Threepwood was able to keep himself together well enough to provide exactly that.
no subject
Worse, she could hear the tearing of flesh and breaking of bone. And she could smell the blood, both of Mr. Javert and of the creature. It took everything she had not to get sick right then and there.
The way this had unfolded was like that night in Chief Gant's office two years ago. Mr. Javert was about to die in order to save her, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to help him. She couldn't even attempt to break up the fight, given that this creature would more likely kill her than succumb to being shoved over. Really, the only course of action would be to follow his last request and get the hell out of there.
There was a problem with that course of action, however.
Ema couldn't bring herself to move and leave him alone there.
The fact that she was screaming in fear, (emotional) pain, and preemptive grief didn't help things, either.
Even after spending the past two years trying to train herself to react more effectively to a situation in which she--and other people--were in danger, all of that effort was amounting to almost nothing at the moment. The emotional burden was too much, and it was a miracle in and of itself that she hadn't fainted as her body went practically catatonic. If she was to get away, she was going to need a shock to her system. Hopefully, Mr. Threepwood was able to keep himself together well enough to provide exactly that.