I noticed a severe lack of Critic!Whump in this Fanfiction section, so I decided to write one.

(I also apologise to Doug if you ever run into this, this probably looks a little weird but I just like whump... sorry...)


None of them really knew what the hell had got them in this situation, but there they were, The Nostalgia Critic, The Nostalgia Chick, Paw, Spoony, Angry Joe, Linkara and Brentalfloss stood in the now all to familiar field in the middle of the generic suburbia, having somehow being talked into chasing after another pointless treasure; however, this time it wasn't malikite or Turl and Zod they were facing now. They stood, sizing up to the hitherto faceless man who they had finally cornered after days of chasing him round countless landscapes.

"Alright, this ends now!" Critic shouted to him.

"You don't know how right you are…" The man sneered, spinning round. The Chick saw him removing something from his back pocket.

"Critic!" Chick yelled in warning.

Too late.
A gunshot rang out through the air. The atmosphere trembled.
Critic paused. He felt unnaturally numb, but only when he looked down did he realise why.
A large bullet hole had drilled into his chest, blood beginning to splutter and pour out onto his t-shirt and jacket, the growing crimson pool contrasting harshly against the white of his t-shirt.
He opened his mouth but the words got lodged in his throat. The numbness suddenly sparked into a sudden, agonising pain and his legs gave way, sending him crumbling to the floor.

Linkara jumped the man, Spoony and Angry Joe helping to wrestle the gun out of his hand and pin him to the floor. Joe pulled out his gun and aimed it at the man's head
"Stay where you are, you bastard." He snarled, then turned to where Chick, Paw and Brentalfloss were, sitting round the Critic, Paw using his jacket to put pressure onto the sizeable bulletwound.
"Is he..." Joe asked
"He's breathing, but someone needs to get an ambulance over here right now." Paw told him. On that cue, Brent pulled out his mobile and began to dial 911.

TO BE CONTINUED

(Again, sorry Doug...)