Mirror Reed is a lot more than just a one-dimensional psycho
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13 Sep 2019
At some point along the way, he had thrown down the taser in a fit of rage and gotten more physical. Green blood was smeared across his stinging knuckles, which would no doubt bruise very soon. Malcolm looked at the Vulcan's still, limp form and suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Bile rose up in his throat and he barely made it inside an empty cell before the warm liquid flew out of his mouth and splashed onto the floor. Slumped over on his knees, breath hitching, Malcolm lifted his head and closed his eye, taking in the stony silence.
What in the hell was wrong with him?
Originally titled "Quote, My Tourniquet"
- Part 1 of Sleep Apnea