Disclaimer: I don not own any of the Cherub characters, other than those that are my own creation of course. Enjoy.
The blood was cold. It was all he could think of as he fell to his knees, his hands slick with the cool, red liquid. The gun slipped from his bloody hand onto the thick carpet, landing with a thump. It was over. It was all over. Over. Over.
A sound began echoing around in his head. Thumping and clawing and beating and cutting and tearing its way out of his mind until it burst from his lips in an animalistic scream. His fingers pulled at his hair, trying to stop the pain in his head. His chest was burning with a freezing fire, sending ice cold currents down his spine. Trailing the blood on his hands in longs streaks across his flesh, he raked his nails along his face as he tried to resume control. But it was too late. The control he had learned to hold over the months had disappeared. It left him as a screaming, vulnerable mess. Sobbing through his cries, he lay down and curled up into the fetal position; pulling his knees up to his chin.
He was still lying on the blood stained floor, his hand's shaking, his skin a pale sickly grey colour and the effect's of the drug wearing off, when Kiera found him. She opened her mouth to speak as she stepped towards him, her face full of worry.
"Luke, wha…" She abruptly stopped, her breath catching in her throat. He watched as she lifted a trembling hand to her mouth. Her eyes were wide, her finger's shaking. He watched her take in the blood pooling beside him, the gun discarded on the floor, and the lifeless body of Zara Asker lying next to him. He closed his eyes. He hadn't wanted her to see this. He hadn't wanted to get her involved. Feeling his insides tear further apart and a fresh wave of blood pore from him, he realized that no matter what he said, she would never believe that he was innocent. He felt a laugh escape his lips as he tried to imagine what she was thinking. But the humour turned to sadness. Squeezing his eye's shut further; he felt a wave of ice wash over him. A sad smile formed on his lips. It was strange; he felt calm, almost like…
Suddenly he felt an ice cold fist grip his heart; pulling and squeezing until he could barely breathe. So this is what dying feels like, he thought, gasping from the shocks of pain flaring from the bullet hole in his chest, don't think I'll be doing this again…
His name was Luke Ackerman, and for official purposes, he didn't exist.
Hey guy's,
Just wanted to mention that I plan to make this a big story and I'm not going to continue unless I know that it's worth writing more. I know it's short chapter and I plan to post another shortly, but if you do want me to continue, review and tell me.
The oxygensniffer. :)