ecstasy | corpse husband

chapter 32.

DOWNTOWN SEATTLE
DAY SIX

He tried to warn them.

Upon entering the police station, all he could think was Godfrey doesn't have a clue what he's getting himself into. Which wouldn't be his concern, except that it isn't just his life on the line. They were all going to help, naturally, and only one of them is armed with an actual weapon.

How deluded, Hudson muses to himself as they make their way down a dark corridor.

If he had a sound mind, maybe he would have pushed more against this non-plan. It would have been the smart thing to do, the safe thing. He has people other than himself to think of. But Hudson has never been one to turn down an opportunity for comeuppance, and right now is no different.

Hudson liked the guy, he really did. But that was before Godfrey got a gun in his hand and reduced himself to hubris. A man who needs a gun to assert his authority shouldn't have a gun in the first place. Godfrey likes the weight of the pistol in his hand too much, fancies the power behind it, the feeling of indomitability. He forgets the consequences of the chunk of metal he cradles. It does not make a person invincible.

It must be that misconception that brought Godfrey to barking orders to the rest of them, Hudson included. If there's one thing he loathes, it's being told what to do, especially by people who can't accept when they're wrong.

And oh, is Godfrey wrong about this.

Hudson's method of choice is not conversation; it's revenge. It's the only reason he stayed quiet when being given orders to execute this absurd rescue mission at the police station with little to no reinforcements besides a singular pistol—which is in the wrong hands to begin with.

The way he sees it, rejecting this plan would only make the others think he's a coward when in reality, he's the only one thinking logically. If Godfrey wants to play hero, Hudson is more than willing to let him. He would let Godfrey execute his plan, which is really just a desperate attempt for him to prove himself—Hudson clearly intimidates the guy—and he would let Godfrey see for himself how bad an idea it was getting involved.

People like him will never accept being wrong from someone else's words. Hudson should know, he's never wrong.

It's as they're moving stealthily down the corridor, echoes of screams and fighting from up ahead ambushing them, when Hudson feels a tap at his shoulder. He's surprised to see blue eyes meet his when he turns; It's Kora.

He always thought she was too afraid of him to go to him for anything.

She points at the door behind her, mouthing There are people in there.

Hudson tunes out the noise coming from ahead and tips his head closer to the door of interest, which has a metal pipe slotted through the door handle to keep it closed. Faintly does he hear sounds of scraping, breathing. The quiver of a voice. Multiple voices. There are in fact people inside, he can't tell how many.

As he's looking upwards, reading the sign above the door that's labeled HOLDING CELL, there's a pound against the door and it rattles him to his core. He leans away.

A voice croaks from the other side, frail and mournful, "help us—we are dying."

He catches Kora's expectant gaze again. It's clear what she wants him to do; open the door and free them. Save them. He almost lets himself do just that; the person pleading on the other side of the door with their heart exposed nearly clouds his better judgement with emotion.

But the door is barred off for a reason. Hudson knows they can't be civilians if they're inside of a holding cell. Besides, the city was evacuated yesterday. These are potential inmates in there, and they were locked up and left here for a reason. They were refused to be taken with the rest of the city and be evacuated to Mount Rainier for a reason. The police left them to die for a reason.