“¡VIVA LA MUERTE, maricon!”

Timo recogiendo el Colonel Millán-Astray, que se ordenó a torture en el 1934; marked as rebel with earlobe cut off w rusty dull scissors.

At IED site, Timo has rifle slung crosswise across his back, not laying on ground or against a tree. Alcotán has seized a vantage point from which he looks down the road. When Nx soldiers take him, the slice it off him and cut him in the process.

At the same time, Alcotán attacks leaps at one of the soldiers, rips throat right out, first swipe of his teeth jaws, immediate gutting. Alcotán leaves the twitching, leaps up to rock, leaps off rock onto the back of neck of other soldier. Snaps his neck right there, mid-air. Lands, tumbles, soldiers firing w auto pistols. He runs up into the rocks, disappears. He remains untouched, no wounds.

In the flatbed truck he jumps up he is covered in blood. His muzzle is a bloody mess. Timoteo hugs him w both broken arms, both shoulders dislocated utterly. Timo manages to dislodge his hat catch in his teeth, reach fingers up to get the razor blade there. Both hands back down softly petting Alcotán. One hand under chest, neck, scratching. We don’t show til after that Timo has slit his throat and Alcotán has gone to the big sleep, within Timoteo’s broken arms.

Back of flatbed truck, all of the above plus Timoteo has slit his own wrists. Both go to their rests together, their bloods mingling with dirty kerosene on the rusty steel bed of the fuel tanker. When the truck stops at Combat Trains, the Nx soldiers come around back and see both. Alcotán dead. Timoteo’s eyelids fluttering.

Leave a Reply