sheriff swanson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sheriffexe) wrote2017-01-30 07:42 pm
sheriffexe) wrote2017-01-30 07:42 pm
Entry tags:
[ WEEK THREE – KILL LOG (ANNABETH) ]
[ So, Annabeth is in the stocks.
That sucks.
She would have been there since 5 AM. Hopefully someone brought her things to eat and drink during the day but otherwise, hands and head bound in the wooden frame.
If someone was with her earlier, they're suddenly not now. Instead, she is alone and the moon shines bright in the sky with an accompanied stillness to the air. Nearby, a raccoon dives underneath the General Store porch, a piece of stolen meat clutched between its tiny paws. It watches her with beady yellow eyes.
She might, in the distance, see someone approaching. ]
That sucks.
She would have been there since 5 AM. Hopefully someone brought her things to eat and drink during the day but otherwise, hands and head bound in the wooden frame.
If someone was with her earlier, they're suddenly not now. Instead, she is alone and the moon shines bright in the sky with an accompanied stillness to the air. Nearby, a raccoon dives underneath the General Store porch, a piece of stolen meat clutched between its tiny paws. It watches her with beady yellow eyes.
She might, in the distance, see someone approaching. ]
no subject
Is it..? That's not what the sheriff said...
[ Russell drops the gas can, and reaches for the box of matches. He's lit a few before, so this should be easy, really... With a little flick against the match box, he lights one, and drops it on the ground where he initially poured the gasoline.
Now... Will he need more than one? He'll prepare a second one just in case because he's going to get ready to book it. First, he'll watch the flames spread for a few moments. ]