The chaos seems to halt, and Ava can feel the warm blood from the gash in Sharky's neck already soaking through the sleeve of her sweater. Her arm tightens its squeeze like a snake around its prey. To keep him under control, in worry of him bleeding out.
This isn't Sharky. Maybe Pratt is right. Maybe she should just-
Ava slowly slips her hand out of his head with a blur that'll spark through his optical nerves, and pats the top of it with a soothingly whispered "good boy." He'd called her an angel, and so she'll be merciful. And far more patient than she feels.
She fixes Pratt with a stern frown at his childish excuse. "I know. You think it's better Sharky isn't in here right now." She strokes the side of Sharky's stolen face with her fingernails. "But what if he is? What if Sharky is in there. Right now. Watching you do this. Can you really live with that?"
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This isn't Sharky. Maybe Pratt is right. Maybe she should just-
Ava slowly slips her hand out of his head with a blur that'll spark through his optical nerves, and pats the top of it with a soothingly whispered "good boy." He'd called her an angel, and so she'll be merciful. And far more patient than she feels.
She fixes Pratt with a stern frown at his childish excuse. "I know. You think it's better Sharky isn't in here right now." She strokes the side of Sharky's stolen face with her fingernails. "But what if he is? What if Sharky is in there. Right now. Watching you do this. Can you really live with that?"