The Scarman Enigma

[|Scarecrow|]

Starwood Hotel, Landing Platform Terminal, Floor 75

Kurt’s eyes were wide with shock. The knife had sunk deep into his esophagus, destroying his larynx. He could produce no sound other than a faint gargle. There was no pain, but he could feel the blade inside him. The sensation was cold and unnatural. He suppressed the reflex to swallow. A cool sensation started to flow down from the wound, beneath his underlayer and shirt. His lifeblood. He could feel the steady flow of liquid as if it were travelling in slow-motion, running down the length of his torso and under his belt.
This is it. He knew it was over now. He had done all he could, tried as hard as he could. The sound of the terminal around him was slowly fading, being replaced with the heavy pounding of his heart as it frantically tried to pump his body’s rapidly diminishing reserves of blood. The Tyrant had bested him, but he may have swung the advantage... Kurt’s vision began to tunnel, his peripherals fading into a blackening vignette. In front of him, however; beyond the Tyrant, he witnessed the charge of Marcus “Scarecrow” Scarman. The Admiral was sprinting as hard as he could, drawing closer and closer, his face a picture of unfettered rage.
Kurt managed a faint smile. Avenge me brother.
Then his world collapsed entirely, and he was gone.

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| S C A R E C R O W |

"See you space cowboy..."