take it slow // torian, day 8
Aug 18, 2023 21:35:32 GMT -5
Post by Python on Aug 18, 2023 21:35:32 GMT -5
A moment ago he felt woozy, like a coin was spinning in his head. He was losing blood, fast, and Larissa had evaded his pathetic attempts at fighting by falling to her knees in the water. There was a splash, a viper's lash at his neck, and panic that seized his heart. For a moment he couldn't breathe, a realization squeezing his ribcage until it hurt. He was going to die, he was dying..
And in a last ditch effort, to go down fighting rather than giving up, he pretended to trip and jabbed his weapon into her head. That was the scene that played in his head, at least. When the cannon fired, he thought it trickery. This wasn't real. He was dying, his synapses were firing in their final moments, creating a hero's fantasy of his own victory. But it didn't stop. He felt the weight of Larissa's body on the end of his weapon, he saw a blinding light behind her eye socket. It had to be a dream, because that wasn't possible.
Neither were the antlers on his head, but alas.
He pulled his weapon back and it made a horrible sound, steel sliding against bones and gore. Too gruesome of a sound to be part of a dream. He gasped and fell backwards into the water. The cold shocked him, and he blinked away his stupor. Larrisa was laying there, and she wasn't moving. Blood clouded the waters around her head. Had he done it?
He scrambled to her bag and his own, mindlessly opening its contents. His movements were automatic because at this point, he knew what he was doing. If he was going to survive the day, he needed to lessen the bleeding. He couldn't have done this for nothing.
He passed out at some point, and came to when the sky was bleeding a new color. He felt sluggish, but finished the job and grounded himself again. Larissa was gone, but the crimson signs of battle remained. He was still here, and she wasn't, so the likely outcome was that he had killed her.
The statistics were beyond his understanding now.
