↳ 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹: 𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀

𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙖 𝙭 𝘾𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙖 - 𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 .𝟐

⍜

[ male reader ]

Screams ring through the night, shadows fleeing the street in search of cover. Broken glass rains over your heads as bullet after bullet is fired from the revolver, forcing the witches to burst into flies to avoid getting hit.

In sync you and Ronnie draw your guns. He jolts, stumbles backwards, unsteady with each shot you land to his torso. As he falls another man shows his face from behind a wall. He's apprehensive and clutching a crowbar, a weapon that was shoved into his hands moments prior and one that he discards of as quick as humanly possible.

Ronnie scrunches his face and throws his empty gun to the mud. Taking long, swift strides towards the trembling man and grasping fistfuls of his shirt to slam him against the wall. His string of desperate pleas fall on deaf ears.

You scan the area while the witches reappear and nod to one another. "Everyone alright?" You query, gun still cocked and ready to be fired again.

"Your arm." Daniela inspects the tear in the fabric of your coat where ruby red peeks through. You pay it no mind. Nothing more than a scrape, God knows you've endured far worse. Daniela's pout persists.

"Isabella." Tommy catches the pale woman once her legs give way. Elena sucks in a breath and lowers to view her friend, soon replaced by you so you can examine the source of the dampened silk of her dress. Single hit to the shoulder, losing blood fast.

"Tommy, take these women to the factory. Hey. Look at me. Take them to the factory, tell Heisenberg what happened."

"Isabella."

"I will take care of her you have my word." He nods mindlessly, slipping his arms from underneath her once you take his place. He gathers the women and begins to guide them along the path. "Ronnie!"

He takes one last bone-cracking swing before dropping the unconscious man in the mud. He then marches over and smoothly sweeps the injured woman up off the ground. In less than a minute you're swinging the doors open and beckoning a group of nurses and doctors.

"Gunshot wound to the right shoulder." You explain before they whisk her away on a stretcher. Ronnie narrows his eyes, staring at the doors to the main corridor that slam shut behind them.

"You know who did this." He mumbles.

"I have my theories."

"You're always right."

"Precisely."

—

People practically launch to the side of the pathways upon noticing Heisenberg storming through the village. It's not unusual to catch him in a vile mood, but this is a different type of rage. Children playing in the middle of the muddy roads are tugged back by their collars in a frenzy to avoid his wrath.

A lone woman exits the medical house as glum as the slate grey sky. She freezes on the spot and holds the door open, not once daring to steal a glimpse of his dangerous scowl. Trench coat fluttering behind heavy boots and silvery hair catching in the breeze.

He stomps through the familiar corridors to where you and Ronnie are patiently waiting for an update. The latter occupies half a bench with his broad figure, fingertips pressed together as he ponders. You're opposite him leant against the wall, hands on the railing as you listen to the constant ticking of the clock on the wall.