Re: Le Memory Emporium
He had faced a lot of different situations in his life, but never before anything like this. Her refusal confused him, that glittering smile, that knife that glittered and shone, and he pulled his hand away, dropping the flannel, the grip he had fought for on the knife, because he wouldn't be useful to anyone if he was injured, would he?
He was confused, he was so confused it actually physically hurt, but before he could do anything, she moved that knife and then there was so much red he actually felt sick at the sight. He was supposed to be the one who could keep his head, the one where things like this didn't get to him. But he was nauseous and head spinning but he still dropped down to his knees beside her as she crumpled and fell.
"No, no, no, NO!" he shouted, but there was no one to hear, no one to respond. His jeans were getting soaked with her blood, his hands stained with it as he tried to stop the bleeding, but he knew enough that it was fruitless. She was gone, he could see that much, and he felt numb in the wake.
Slowly, he got up to his feet and looked around, but no one seemed to notice what was going on, no one seemed to notice the fresh dead on the floor at his feet. It felt surreal, dizzy, and it was all he could do to leave, to escape.