Boom.
The loud gunshot echoed through the workshop as Augustine was hit in the shoulder. The impact forced him to his knees instantly, blood spilling freely down his arm and onto the floor.
"Fuck you, Aubrey! Let… let us go, what the hell!" Freda screamed at the top of her lungs. She released her grip on Reginald, allowing his weak body to slide slowly to the ground, barely moving.
She rushed to Augustine's side at once. "Augustine, you're going to be alright, okay? Help is coming. Help… help is on the way," Freda stammered. Her words tumbled out as the sight of blood made her head spin, her stomach churn in disgust, and rage boil fiercely inside her.
"Woah, you really think the cops you alerted are going to catch me?" Aubrey scoffed sarcastically. "You're both very foolish." She purred as she took slow, deliberate steps toward Freda and Augustine, who were now on the floor.
