He looked up, while remaining hunched over, breathing long, heavy pants. His eyes were those of a mad man.
His voice crackled along with the air that escaped his throat when he spoke. Bits of ice came out among his words when he said, "And now you?" He breathed heavily once more, before saying what he believed to be now entirely too obvious, "You've turned against me as well..." he said it, in spite of the atmosphere around us making the answer to his question painfully clear to him. "You've come to kill me, haven't you?" He looked like a man without an ally in the world. Painting, alone, almost entirely defeated.
I stared upon him, at what he had become, and then replied, "If I must," while resting my hand around the weapon in my holster, the three men standing next to me did the same.
His head tilted a slight bit before he opened his mouth once more."Then so be it." He bared his teeth as he said it, and there was a snarl in his voice. Where spittle would have came forth in a normal man, there was only ice.
And with those words, it had begun.