This took forever. Because I was trying to avoid it. And I had lots of work. And not enough sleep. Ohhhhhhhhhh, snap!
-----------------------------
The full extent of the damage became clear as Icard turned the corner. The dim light from his private room illuminated the charred and shrapnel-studded walls of the hallway. Blackened junk littered the floor. He shuffled carefully through the mess, wincing when glass shards tinkled underfoot, hoping the rock music would mask his approach. At times he was unaware of the gun clutched in his grip, and had to catch himself when it slipped in his sweating hands.
He didn't really have a plan. In a perfect world, the intruder would cower as soon as he saw the gun, the proper authorities would take him away, and everything would go back to normal. In the real world, if the intruder had the gall and guts to explode a bomb in such close quarters, he would likely have no trouble laughing at an amateur awkwardly wielding such a comparatively smaller weapon.
Icard arrived right by the doorway. It was now or never.
***
Karussin drummed his knuckles, out of sync with the beat, and most certainly out of sync with his head-banging. He was good at that--multitasking his brain and physical extremities. Not only was he enjoying himself, but also he was growing increasingly frustrated at the length of time it was taking to decode the second passlock. His ears twitched at a crinkling in the distance, but he paid little attention.
"Stop-stop right there!"
236 words
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NOOOOOO!!!!!! I can't make 300 words. I can't. It was either sacrifice 300 words or miss 2 weeks in a row. Life kills....
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