'If I pretend to be a corpse… she'll go away… right?'
That was the exact thought in Finn's head as he lay flat on the dirt. Eyes shut. Face mushed into the forest floor. Playing dead like a particularly stupid possum.
He cracked one eye open.
She was still there.
Standing above him. Unmoving. Knife in hand. Staring down with all the warmth of a DMV employee on overtime.
Finn screamed internally, immediately snapping his eyes shut again like a kid who thought monsters disappeared when you couldn't see them.
She has to go away eventually, right? he reasoned. There's no way she'll just stand over an unconscious man all day. I mean… come on, I'm a genius.
Unaware that he was now smirking to himself.
That is, until—
"Idiot grown man lies on the ground, unmoving. He believes that playing dead will save him, but in fact, it will not."
Her voice was cold, monotone, almost robotic. Like an AI therapist ready to end your subscription trial.
