Erica is lying on the cold tile floor of Beacon Hills First National Bank.
Blonde hair brown eyes scarlet lips dying dying no she can't be dead.
Derek bursts through the door of the storage room, heading unerringly to his beta.
Blood dripsdripsdrips from a gash that stretches across her torso- shoulder to the opposite edge of her ribcage.
Her blood is spread about her, a pool that covers the entirety of her torso.
(Dying dying, is she dead?)
Derek drops to his knees as tears begin to shine in his eyes. Fingers go shakily to her throat even as he strains his ears, listening for the next thump of her heart.
The beat of her heart burns a tattoo into his brain. He did this to her. If not for him she would be human and whole.
When the next beat comes it's been too long since the last. Thu-thump goes her heart.
It sounds weary.