"If I didn't know any better," Quentin said, gritting his teeth as Michael pressed the blade into his stomach, "I'd say you're jealous."
Myers paused, pulling the weapon out before pressing it back into Quentin's belly. Quentin grimaced but reached forward, tugging at the killer's jumpsuit insistently. "I'm(more) serious," he said. "Are you? Of David?"
At the mention of the name Myers' head snapped up, looking around as if he could spot the man in question. Quentin scoffed. "I knew it," he said, ignoring the blood dripping onto his pants and soaking into them. "You ARE."
Even as he lay dying under Michael, the man refused to leave, simply staring at him as he rolled onto his stomach and tried to crawl away. "If you're going to watch me the entire time," Quentin said at last, "you might as well let me see them before I die. Just so I can say goodbye."
Michael picked him up as if he weighed nothing. Quentin sighed, hand on his cheek as he looked at the area over Michael's shoulder.
"Hey, guys!" he shouted, once he could spot Meg over the rubble. "Myers is currently being an ass so I can't escape this game-"
Just like that the killer did a 180 and turned, heading towards the basement.
"I think you're just lacking affection. This is the only way we touch, but David hugs me. Have you ever done that? No?"
Michael actually growled, lifting his knife in warning. Quentin pushed against the Entity's claw with no small amount of difficulty. "If you were nicer, maybe I wouldn't go to David for some human comfort."
Michael grabbed his wrist, pulling it away from the claw. It stabbed into Quentin eagerly, ready to take his life.
"Bitch," he muttered. Myers just stared at him. (less)