Disclaimer and warning: These characters do not belong to me and I killed off some of them.
That's the warning and disclaimer in a nutshell. It's been a rough week and I wanted to blow off some steam. This is obviously the bad end and maybe if I write another installment in this series, you'll see the good end, and maybe even the true end.
Well, enjoy. You've been warned. I'm mostly writing this for myself.
Graphic themes ahead - self harm, violence, etc.
'Ksch.'
'Ksch…'
'…Ksch…'
The blade plunged downwards over and over again into the already flaccid body. It kept sliding from her grip, cutting into her palm with each stroke, her hands slippery with her own blood and his. She was already numb to the pain, her body already full of scratches and bruises from the struggle.
Again and again her arm moved up and down with the repetitive motion, her strength leaving her, but her spirit unwilling to accept that this was all she could do. Her dull violet eyes had glazed over, her body on autopilot as she continued to defile the corpse with each thrust of the knife. Her consciousness had faded long ago. It had dissipated along with her anger once she had exacted her revenge.
It was over. Everything was over. There was nothing more she could do here.
Once she realized this, her grip slacked and she let the metal pocketknife fall to the ground with a clatter.
With tears streaming down her blood-streaked face, the dark haired girl was numb, full of emotion, yet unable to express the pain she felt. It was a deep, visceral feeling that was eating her up inside, searing her throat and burrowing into her organs. Nothing could ever make it better.
Unceremoniously, the girl rose, standing. She looked down at her victim, locking eyes with his lifeless grey ones. His blonde hair was matted with blood, his limbs splayed on either side of his broken body as he lay in a pool of stagnant blood. The girl took in a breath, wondering off-handedly why he had to die so quickly. He clearly didn't suffer enough. Again, she focused on his face, on his ashen face that was twisted and contorted in an expression of fear, regret, and pain.
Stepping over the corpse, the girl walked with a slight limp over to another figure lying a few feet away on the ground. Her brunette curls were fanned out behind her head, her body positioned almost as if she were only sleeping, on her side. A bloodied cellphone lay only inches from her head, the display still lit up, the most recent number dialed was for emergency services.
"Kumiko?" The girl called out, her voice wavering, but received no answer.
The dark haired girl seemed to have shattered something in her mind, forgetting the events that had taken place only minutes ago.
She kept calling out to the euphonium player.
Each time, there was no answer, but a part of the girl kept expecting to hear the brunette's voice.
As she neared, she saw the blood, the way the brunette's head lolled to the side, a thick red line drawn across her neck, blood still oozing from the wound. It was a quick death, the blood spurting from her neck as the young man slit her throat. She wasn't his intended target, but she faced the full brunt of the consequences.
The girl's eyes glazed over as pieces of her memory returned. She looked at her own hands, still slick with blood. She remembered. It was a mix of his blood, her own, and...Kumiko's. She had tried to save her, tried to put pressure on the wound, but it was futile. The carotid artery had been cleanly cut, heavy blood loss imminent. The bleeding wouldn't stop and the girl could still feel the pulsating of the blood as Kumiko's life slipped through her fingers.
She could still feel the brunette's cold hands over hers as she clung desperately to her.
She could still remember Kumiko's frightened gaze, begging her to spare herself.
'….Run…'
She could still remember her last utterances before her eyes closed forever.
'R-Reina…I l-love you.'
Collapsing to the ground, the trumpeter struggled to breathe between the sobs that wracked her small frame. She hugged herself tightly, the emptiness filling her core.
Her ambition for life had died with Kumiko and Reina knew what she had to do.
She didn't want to live anymore.
She couldn't.
Struggling, the young musician stood, trudging back over to the man who ruined her life, who robbed Kumiko of hers. Throwing one more disdainful look into his pale face, Reina knelt down, picking up the knife she had dropped earlier.
She simply looked at the blade for a moment, its sheen covered with the copper substance that was everywhere now. Holding out her left arm, she drew the knife along the length of her inner forearm, wincing slightly at the cold steel as it sliced through her skin. The action was drawn out, Reina reveling in the feeling of pain she elicited. If only to feel something that wasn't Kumiko, she pressed harder. Red spilled forth, marring her white complexion. It dripped onto the dirt path. With trembling hands, she mirrored her handiwork, creating an identical wound on her right arm. It made Reina shudder with a sick pleasure as she felt her life force leave her.
With a bitter smile on her lips, the dark haired girl walked slowly over to Kumiko, her blood trailing behind her. Bending down, Reina picked up the forgotten cellphone. It almost slipped out of her hands like it had when she called for help.
Her hands had been covered with Kumiko's blood, making it difficult to hold onto anything. She was so focused on trying to stop the bleeding, dropping the phone in the middle of the call as she screamed for an ambulance to be dispatched to the middle of nowhere. Shaking her head, Reina remembered the frantic feeling as she spoke to the operator on the phone, finding it strange that all she felt now was an eerie calm. She took in a deep breath, the strong smell of iron and coppery metals filled her nostrils, almost making her gag.
Reina exhaled, feeling truly tranquil.
Standing over Kumiko's body, Reina suddenly jumped when she realized that she was dripping red all over the brunette's uniform. As a thought, Reina knew that blood was difficult to wash out. She knew that Kumiko would definitely be angry with her since the brunette did her own laundry.
The trumpet player took a step back, the blood still streaming thickly down her arms and onto her hands. The sticky red substance made it difficult to handle anything, but Reina gripped the phone tightly. Her trembling fingers smeared the screen with blood as she dialed a number she knew by heart.
The girl held the phone to her ear with bated breath, with eager anticipation and rising apprehension.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings.
After the call had reached its fifth ring, the voicemail message came on.
"Hi there, it's Kumiko. You're probably calling while I'm in class or in band practice, so leave me a message and I'll get back to you when I can. Thanks!"
The dark haired girl gnashed her teeth together, her bottom lip quivering as she listened to the other girl's voice over the phone. It was the Oumae Kumiko she remembered so well, the Kumiko who was just standing beside her just mere minutes ago. It was the same Kumiko that Kousaka Reina knew she would never be able to live without.
Hanging up and pressing the redial button desperately, Reina sobbed, feeling her knees buckle as she listened to the voice recording again.
She crumpled at Kumiko's feet, crying as she clutched the phone in her now cold hands. She was getting exhausted from all the crying and from all the blood on the ground that was hers. Reina closed her eyes, the faint sound of sirens heard in the distance.
As a parting thought, she hoped they wouldn't succeed in saving her, since Kumiko's confession of love had been a fitting death sentence for Reina.