Hey guys. I've had this on my computer since before I joined FFN and just remembered that I had these. I've always wanted try my hand at prompts and I believe I got the list of words from the livejournal 100 word contest. I can't remember though. I'll probably only update these randomly, especially with summer ending. Later chapters might have spoilers for the manga. I'll make sure to tell you if there are spoilers though.

D.Gray-man belongs to the wonderful and amazing Katsure Hoshino.

I hope youall enjoy these.

29. Death

The room stunk.

The pungent smell of antiseptic, sweat, and blood wafted around the room like a fog. People in white coats rushed from patient to patient, yelling out orders over the anguished moaning and screaming of the wounded. The world was awash with white bandages, silver medical instruments, and red blood. The room was quickly becoming more of a graveyard than a temporary hospital.

And yet, he couldn't seem to leave.

His legs refused to listen to his brain, staying rooted in the spot as if they were made of stone. But they weren't. He could feel them shaking underneath him, threatening to give out any second now, like a sapling in a maelstrom. His hands held onto the banister in an iron grip, the hard stone scratching the soft skin of his palms. Water clouded his vison as tears trickled down his face unnoticed.

Two hundred people were dead. Three times that amount were injured or nearing death. The statistics weren't complete yet, but it didn't look good for the Black Order. Finders, exorcists, and department personnel lay bleeding on the floor beneath him and the bodies of the dead were being taken to a separate room to be burned. He guessed he should be thankful the people in charge had found a pace where the smell wouldn't reach the rest of the survivors. He didn't think his already queasy stomach could handle the smell of burnt flesh anymore.

He had never been afraid of death. The Lord knew he had faced it enough in his life for it to become a regular occurrence. He had lived on the streets, scrounging for food and clothing and avoiding those who would beat him for his deformity, for most of his childhood. Even when Mana adopted him, they still had to scrape by with the meager money they made during performances. His chances with Death had only increased after General Cross took him as his apprentice. By the time he became an exorcist, near-death experiences didn't hold the same significance for him anymore.

No, he didn't fear dying. What he feared was what was in front of him now, the deaths of others because of his failure to keep his promise. The sight of someone else's blood on his hands was what scarred him. The sounds of pain cut his heart deeper than any blade. The nightmares of him being too late to save his friends as the Earl and his akuma cut them down seemed to plague him.

He subconsciously rubbed the cross embedded into his left hand. The attack had ended two days ago and his hand had yet to stop tingling, the black flesh twitching underneath the bandages. Komui had warned him to not strain himself for the next few days. He had kept his Innocence activated for too long and had worn it out. He would just further injure himself by activating it before he rested.

The thought made his stomach flop. The Earl was making his move. Now wasn't the time for him to be incapacitated. He needed to be out there, saving humans and akuma alike, just like he promised he would. It seemed recently, all he could do was stand by and watch as his comrades fell. He now understood why Komui would look so distraught whenever he sent them on a mission. The supervisor was constantly being left behind, knowing he was sending people to their deaths, and unable to do anything but watch from the sidelines. He had often seen the man with his hands clasped and eyes closed in prayer when he thought no one was looking, probably the best cure for his restless soul. Mana had taught him several prayers during their traveling, all which seemed to rush back to him now. The traveling performer had smiled at the boy and looked him in the eye when he had asked what the point was. "Sometimes, when all other ways are blocked off form you, God can show you your path and help you in your time of need."

Closing his eyes and tilting his head up toward heaven, he smiled ruefully and took in a deep breath. He might not be able to do anything for the living right now, but he could do something for the dead. His lips moved through the words fluidly, breath coming out in a whisper. If there was a God, and he believed there was, He would bring salvation to the dead's souls. "Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen."