Will's breath came out hot and heavy, his breathing becoming more uneven as time passed. He tried desperately to hold what remained of his stomach together, the feel of his guts burning on his hand, blood pouring from the wound. He managed to heave his aching head just enough to look at the only other person in the room who also just happened to be dying.
Or in Abbigail's case, already dead.
The slice on her neck was open and would spurt blood out every now and then. The time between spurts was getting longer and longer as the poor girls body ran out of blood. Will didn't bother covering the wound anymore-not since Abbigail's eyes had glassed over. He instead began to drift in and out of consciousness, the sound of nearby sirens sounding foggy and far off, as if they never existed at all.
He was dimly aware of someone standing over him and trying to stop the bleeding from his stomach before his eyes too glassed over, never to be used again. The last thing he saw before fading out was her stark pail face and a floor covered in red.