This is just a quick drabble of sorts: if Raven were to snap and attack Alice. I may or may not expand on it, depending on feedback/motivation. Warnings: violence, character death
This Crimson Stain
The walls are red.
Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.
You're trembling, shaking so badly your teeth are chattering and you can't tell up from down and you're drenched, head to toe in blood. It fills your mouth, metallic and overwhelming and it tastes like her and you shriek, the sound echoing in your skull. Your throat feels raw, a result of the whimpering you didn't know you were doing. And someone was going to come and oh god, he would come.
He'd see you like this.
What even happened?
You're on your feet now, half-crouched in the corner, still staring where her body lay still and cold and lifeless and so empty of the usual energy that it used to harbor. You run your tongue across your teeth and you feel the blood dribble out of your mouth and down your chin. It was warm, such a juxtaposition from the coldness of the air and her skin.
You wring your hands, imagining how the specks of blood spattered the already red-soaked walls, and suck a breath in through your teeth. You can't remember what happened and you tear at your hair, feeling the strands break in your grasp.
And you wonder, what now? Here you are trapped, a mouse in a snake pit, cornered and helpless and oh god you didn't even do it because there was no way you were the one to drain the life out of her. But she was pale and bloodless, her blood drenching the rug on which she lay and it was slowly, as if teasing you, inching its path towards you just like he would be and then it would be over.
Your mind supplies you with endless alternate explanations, all of which contest with the shape your hand is in, as if the scissors were still resting between your fingers and palm.
All you know, all that makes sense, is that you need to get out. He'd see you and ohgodohgod there's nothing that could be more horrible than that. You start to shake so badly you swear your brain is rattling in your skull and your fingernails tear at your scalp and your blood mixes with hers, staining your raven hair red, bright red, but all you can see is green.
Your legs won't move and the paranoia makes you hear things you aren't sure are real: your name, a gasp, an accusatory look, footsteps... but the footsteps are real and you cringe, your mouth running dry but still tasting salty and metallic. Adrenaline kicks in then and then your legs are moving faster than you can keep up and you're at the window, because that was the only logical way out of this, and you don't even know how you managed to find yourself face down in the snow or the grinding of glass on your bones, but you brace yourself and then you're running because whatever was waiting for you behind you was worse than anything you can even imagine. You lurch forward, your feet numb from the rush and the cold and you're vomiting and sobbing dryly, the two mixing together until the muscles of your abdomen are sore and torn like your heart. You imagine the trail behind you, the stained red trail leading them straight to you and you're moving again for hours until suddenly your legs give out and you feel no reason to move forward because there's nothing left to move forward to.
Vincent, is your final thought, but the word is nonsensical and foreign on your tongue.
You curl up, staring blankly and you feel the exhaustion like a wave of warmth cut the blood supply to your brain and everything's black, but finally there's no red or green.