Smeared blood all over the walls. Torn up and crumpled papers scattered all over the office. Whispered words and shattered dreams…
That's all she remembered. There was nothing else to remember. The blood was splattered on her face in off-centered patterns, some of it in her hair and some on her shirt. Her sword was held loosely in her hand, blood dripping from it. Terrified royal blue eyes were wide open, staring down at the scene in front of her in shock. Her hands started trembling, the hilt of her sword slipping from her grasp. She started backing away, tripping over her own two feet so she landed on the ground.
She had done it. She had finally killed someone, but it wasn't just that – she killed someone she cared about. Just because it was done for self-defense didn't mean that she wanted to. It was only to save herself, and only to save someone else as well…
How selfish.
That voice in the back of her head started talking to her, and started to mock her. She didn't appreciate it – she had never appreciated it. But she knew damn well that her other half was there – lurking, waiting, listening.
Aren't you aware that this is the season of giving? Being selfish is almost prohibited, and looked down upon, especially at this time of year.
That was right. It was December 25th, just a few minutes past midnight. But what did that matter? She was trying to save herself from death. That was allowed, wasn't it? Didn't it make sense? Saving your own skin was something to be proud of, especially on Christmas. Living to see another day was a gift, and she wouldn't mind it if that were the only gift she would receive.
What a shame. You should've let him take your life. After all, you don't have a reason to live… Do you?
The question caused a million others to spring up. Did she have a purpose? If she did, had she served it already? Was what she did right? It caused her to stare off in confusion, eyes straying away from the lifeless body in front of her. She had no idea, if she were to be honest. None of what she did made any sense – SOLDIER was pointless, chasing after her fiancé became a chore… Everything was starting to become purposeless.
Why didn't you let him kill you? What do you live for?
Her eyes finally met the body on the floor. She slowly rose to her feet, her entire body trembling. Her breathing quickened as her heartbeat did, looming over the corpse. His eyes were closed, his head off to the side. Blood soaked into his black shirt, ripped where his heart would be. She didn't sense or hear another heartbeat, however – only her own. His heart had stopped beating minutes ago, but it felt like an eternity.
She fell back against the wall, slumping down, the blood smearing as she did. The office looked like a battlefield – ripped paper, shattered glass, wrecked furniture, and the blood… The blood was everywhere imaginable. It seemed as if the dark walls had been repainted crimson. The scent didn't throw her off. It was the smell of his dead body in front of her, and then the taste of salty tears that flowed down her face…
If you would've let him kill you… You wouldn't be experiencing this pain.
The voice inside of her had a point – a point she didn't want to admit. She let her head hang, the tears smudging both her eyeliner and the blood on her face. It pooled into a pinkish pool beside her, which soon turned into a deep crimson once it mixed with the blood that lingered on the floor. Her brother was dead. Her twin brother, the brother she had only gotten to know for a matter of weeks. Her brother, the one who wanted to kill her and her fiancé out of sick, twisted intentions. It crushed her heart to think about it, but it didn't matter. It had already been shattered weeks ago, even before she had found her brother.
Her world had crashed around her long before this. She wasn't going to admit that. Admitting failure was never something she was able to do. That hurt her beyond words – she didn't know why, but it always had. It struck her pride and then it felt like a part of her heart had been ripped from her chest. But this, this was much worse…
Crash and burn. That's all you'll ever do; don't you realize it? No matter how physically or emotionally strong you are, you will always crash and burn.
The voice finally faded away, the sense of another presence dissipating along with it. Her head finally lifted, the backs of her gloved hands wiping at her eyes and her face. She slowly rose to her feet and stared down at her brother's corpse, the depressed emotion fading from her features. Royal blue eyes narrowed and flickered to a crimson temporarily – anger, pure anger. It didn't last long – they faded back, and she bent down to pick up her sword. She sheathed the bloodstained blade and turned on her heel, departing from his office.
She didn't care anymore. Perhaps by closing all ties she had with everyone else, she didn't need to…