abrightboy | I physically can't write out the dialogue but we'll work around that (Reply)

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Then that was their way in. Long legs meant Raylan could step deliberately and for a man his size, he moved silently. The caution hand stayed raised as he peered in, the light catching in his gaze and the voices that floated up to them made them both widen and harden with a dangerous edge.

Quarles was speaking reassuringly, soft tones a stark contrast to the dirt and whimpers that just the sight of the man was bringing. Raylan pushed the door open a scant half inch to slip his slender frame into the opening without risking more noise than needed, gun held at the ready as he moved down the stairs.

The smell of blood and piss, fear and terror, permeated the air as the looped chains from the ceiling glinted the light around over the poor man's dentist chair where the kid was bound. Raylan got to the third to last step before the stairs creaked and Quarles turned around, but Raylan's gun was already up.

The tension between the men was immediately clear.

"Marshal," Quarles started, the effect of years of trying to look and sound better than he was making him seem like a razor toothed salesman with a blinding, too forced smile. "You're not supposed to be here yet."

"Yeah well, I always did like to crash a party," the Marshal replied, cooly, jaw flexing tightly afterwards. "It's over, Quarles. Untie the kid and you can avoid getting shot.. Again."