"Well? Where's Jake?"
"We lost him," Claudette murmured. "Despite our best efforts, I...there was no way."
Dwight sighed. "Damn it, again?" he said. "What the hell is with that killer?"
"Maybe Jake pissed it off," Feng suggested. "Messing with its hooks and traps."
"The others are goin
(more)g to get suspicious," Jake grit out, struggling to wrap the gauze around his leg as the other man watched. "Nonsense, if you keep being petty and breaking my tools."
"Your murder weapons, you mean?"
He could see them kneeling down by him, their knees wet with blood from both him and Ace. Only one of them was lucky enough to survive, and this time, it wasn't the gambler.
"Your words, not mine," Evan said with a shrug, when Jake finally looked up at him. "Pick me up," he grumbled, holding his arms out. "This hurts."
"Sorry. Next time you'll be watching where you're going, right?" Evan asked, as he hoisted Jake over his shoulder and began to make his way towards the basement. "As if, old man," Jake teased, patting Evan's broad back. "If I do, there's no way they'll leave without me."
"Hm. Shitty friends they are, making you leave and live."
"Ha, ha. Very funny. You should've been a comedian instead of a businessman-slash-murderer."
"The hell's that?"
Jake rolled his eyes as Evan stopped walking to let him fall to his feet. "Nevermind."
"You ready?" Evan asked, motioning towards the hooks in front of them. Jake sighed, preparing himself with a deep breath and nodding. "As I'll ever be, Mr. Trapper."
"You know I hate this part."
"Don't we all?" Jake murmured, letting Evan pick him up by his jacket and hold him up.
"Hold still," Evan said, and dropped Jake onto the hook abruptly. "I'll see you again."
Jake screamed.
(less)
