[ The rest of the work is done in silence. Nothing but the drag of the blade through the layers of skin, the smell of blood as it hits the air. One letter, then the next. Gabe cuts, and cuts, and he does not stop until he hits the last.
And then it's done. He steps back, wipes the blade on the sleeve of his jacket. ]
no subject
And then it's done. He steps back, wipes the blade on the sleeve of his jacket. ]
You're good.