Pain. That is all I have. Pain. I try to get up but I am bombarded with pain. It feels like my sides and chest were kicked, and didn't Alix punch my nose? It was already broken when she did it.
I slowly slither my way into the mall to check up on my guns. The most previous commodity.
The .22 was fairly intact, but the R700P's scope was pretty shattered. I rip it off in frustration and am hit by more agony. They think they can just beat me and get away with it.
If the AMTS didn't burn them, I will. Or just cut 'em to pieces.
But this will not stand.
They'll have to tape us all back together when we reach hell.