"This feels too much like a fever dream to be real"
MARLEY ROXANNE was wrongfully convicted of a crime. A crime that a twisted alter, the worse part of herself, committed in self defense, an act Marley never participated in. She was used to taking t...
Chapter Five: "Haven't you worked out that's just his personality? A sarcastic and cocky bastard"
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WHEN MARLEY WOKE UP, SHE IMMEDIATELY FELT PAIN OVER HER KNUCKLES. Her eyes squinted open as she stretched, finding a sticky note planted over her forehead. With a groan, she pulled it off her skin, startling awake as she saw blood coating her bruised hand. Not only that... Her clothing was stained with the metallic substance.
She sat up hastily, flipping the sticky note over. With wide eyes, she scanned over the poorly written note, feeling her heart pounding loudly against her chest.
Did what you couldn't. Went exploring, ran into some lowlifes. I dealt with it. Marley covered her mouth, beginning to panic as she thought of the worse. Her alter tended to be ruthless. She didn't care who or what she hurt as long as Marley was safe.
Marley stumbled around the motel room, trying to tear her clothing from her cold body. She slammed into a wall and tripped over the bedframe before she managed to remove her shirt, throwing it to the side. Like she had done many times before, she scrubbed her body free of dried blood and did a once over to look out for any injuries sustained from Widow's adventure. When she was satisfied there weren't any apart from her bruised knuckles, she pulled on another shirt and shorts, selected from a suitcase of clothing Adebayo had brought her the night before.
Marley vigorously wiped her hands clean of the crime, listening to the nightly news report, praying she wouldn't hear anything about unknown murders.
"Come on! Come on!" she screamed, aggressively scrubbing her bruised knuckles with a cloth. The water was tinted red within a few minutes, how extreme was this fight? It was moments like these where she wished she didn't have an alter.
Marley flinched at a sudden pounding on the front door, eyes widening with fear. The aggressive knocking continued as she tried to clean up her mess, draining the blood red water from the metal basinet. She threw the stained cloth into the bin and quickly wiped her hands clean, ignoring the news report going on in the background.
"Roxanne! Open the door, we gotta get moving." It was Murn, and he was not holding back on the aggressive knocking.
"Yeah! Coming!" she called, diving for the TV remote before collecting a jacket from the coat racket. She practically threw the front door open, out of breath.
Murn was already walking away when she opened the door. "We gotta go, come on."
Marley had to sprint to keep up with him, adjusting her bed-hair and pulling at her dishellved clothing. Widow clearly had an issue with basic hygiene.
The drive to the base of operations was fast, and there were moments where Marley panicked and thought she was going to die. She was certain quite a few traffic violations were committed that night.
