Prompt 3 - The aftermath of a scene you'll never actually write
Somewhere in Nevada...
- Alert! Life Systems Failing. Seek Medical Attention -
It was a miracle, or some cruel joke, that he was still conscious. He was slowly limping down the hallway towards his office, using his totaled shotgun as a crutch leaving behind a trail of yellow blood marking his every movement. His mask was streaming his vitals with constant scrambled alerts he couldn't be bothered to read or listen to anymore. He'd seen it enough times already though to know what it was saying. The speaker in the mask was broken from the impact earlier leaving the voice horribly distorted. He tried to ignore it. Despite it all he was still alive. Whatever that was worth at this point. His post had long since been lost if the continual sounds of gunfire and yelling down the hallway was of any indication. He had crumpled as soon as the bat had crushed his sternum. Shoved aside like a toy by Hank as he tore through him and onto the next poor bastard. The man even managed to steal the spare handgun kept in his shoulder holster. Mellow wasn't able to land a single pellet despite blasting down the entire corridor. Seeing the monster in action left him in disbelief that Wimbleton hadn't come back to finish off what he had started. Not like his battered and bloody soon to be corpse would put up much of a fight anymore, Mellow bitterly reminded himself.
Fat load of good that Accelerated Training Program did him. What was even the point of the A.T.P.? The training amounted to nothing. All the enhanced genetics, equipment, and technology they could arm them with and it still did absolutely jack shit. The Soldats were the only ones who put up any semblance of a fight. But not the Engineers, oh no not them. They were just officers and field technicians to point the living dead in the direction of their imminent killer. His squad had been put down before Mellow had even left his office. The new cameras they had installed around the building let him see first hand each man he had worked with in the past month be ripped to shreds and gunned down. He could do nothing but watch. If his headset hadn't blaring with alarms and orders, he probably would have stayed there in shock. But there was no point mourning the dead. They were soldiers in a losing war and they knew it. He knew it. To think otherwise was a false hope.
- Al-lert! Life Syst-t-t-tems Failing. Seek Medi-Attention -
There it was again. He shook his head and turned his attention to what was at hand. Mellow's grip on the shotgun finally gave away, dropping its husk onto the floor. He had managed to block the first swing with it earlier saving his life. Now though, it just rattled on the solid flooring echoing out in the silence. The gunfire had stopped, Hank must have gotten what he had come here for. It was a good thing too as Mellow finally arrived at his starting point. Funny how what would normally be a thirty second walk felt like an hour of stomach churning pain. Slamming his body through the bullet ridden door, he lost his footing and landed face first onto the unforgiving concrete. The mask barely held, already cracked from the fight earlier. The light in the room diminished as the door swung back closed behind him. He was finally where he wanted to die. He had spent enough of his time in this room to consider it his home at this point and by the higher powers that be he was going to make sure he died on his own terms. He tried to ignore the slick yellow substance pooling underneath him as he righted himself and pressed his failing body against the nearest filing cabinet.
Slapping his bloodied palm onto the lowest handle, it pulled out with a clang as a large pistol revealed itself. He had stored his handgun from when he had been an agent in here in the vain daydream that he could put down an intruder when surprised. He had gotten some use out of it, mostly with some gangs or upcoming "rebels" who thought themselves to be the next Hank, Sanford, or that damn traitor. Now though, he thought wistfully as his hand slipped off from the slide unable to even rack a round, it was...useless. His arms dropped to his sides with the gun soon to be long forgotten. He was a coward; didn't have the guts to put an end to things his way. Mellow was put off by the proposition and even if he was physically able to get the barrel up to his head, the notion scared him. Death was common in Nevada. He just never thought he'd reach that point. So instead he took one last look around his office. It was hard to ignore the approaching darkness pushing at his vision.
It was rather unremarkable, in all honesty, even after working here for as long as he had. The Sheriff, and then the Auditor, was quite strict with personal office policies. He wasn't able to put anything on the walls personally, decorate his desk, or even put a nice rug down. It was grey, empty, and sterile. But Mellow knew quite well the little secrets he snuck into the office. His deagle being one of them. The wanted poster was still on the wall albeit now with significantly more knife markings and tears. He had finally gotten good enough at throwing them to reliably stick it. There was his stash of chocolates hidden behind his monitor that he was damn sure his coworker Jackie was nicking. Not like they could do that anymore. They were one of the first to go. And then finally his eyes drifted over to the stained paper taped to his tower. There was the note. Oh, that note. He had gotten in so much trouble for keeping that thing out in the open. Guess the Sheriff wasn't the biggest fan of gay clowns before he died. Serves him right.
To be fair, the hotdog wasn't supposed to be an innuendo.
- Alert! Li-Signs Criiiiiiiitical-cal. Seek Medical At-Im-tely -
With a sigh, Mellow let his eyes rest as the weight was becoming almost too much to bear. His mask droned on in the background as he took the moment to reflect on how much of a shitshow that turned out to be. Tricky had been M.I.A for a very long time. Or at least it felt like it. He had last spoken with the clown the day after their second date at Mellow's apartment. The clown had mentioned being posted to protect the Sheriff once again. No surprise there given how good of a grunt he was. So with a kiss and a playful swat at his ass, he left. Never to be seen by Mellow again. The Sheriff had been executed by Hank that same day and something started to tear reality apart. Mellow had sent out a few coworkers who owed him favors, as well as some of the newer recruits, to do some scouting for him as he was locked in his office for the majority of the day. They couldn't turn anything up outside of some rumors a week or so later. They claimed that he might be serving as a DJ but it went cold from there.
All in all, it had left him stuck in mourning. He had lost someone who had been becoming so dear to him. Mellow wasn't usually the type to pursue relationships, not with Nevada being what it was, but there was just something about that clown that pulled him in. Softened him up and made him feel safe. Ironic given that Tricky was very much so a murderous psychopath who had a glaring soft spot for the agent-now engineer. But maybe that was the issue, maybe he had pushed his partner away. Maybe his attempts to make their sexual history into an actual relationship had been too much or too fast for the jumpy clown. Despite the things he had been told at least. Mellow had plenty of time to dwell on it before getting wounded, and now his mind was settled. If he was going to die today then he needed to right whatever wrong he had committed. Or at least apologize one last time. It was far beyond repairing whatever damage he had done but it would mean he could die peacefully.
Utterly heartbroken and alone, but peacefully. So gritting his teeth he managed to muster up the energy to open his eyes and fumble about his vest pockets with his right hand. His left arm had gone completely numb and he had lost the feeling in his legs as soon as he propped up against the filing cabinet. It took more effort than he could really afford as his vision was blacking out but finally pulling out his cellphone felt like a minor victory. He reflexively speed dialed Tricky as he had often done long ago. He had never removed the number; he never gave up hope that his partner was still out there. It was better for him to be alive and hate him than to be dead and gone forever. With the blood trickling down from his head now finally completely obscuring the view from his visor, along with the black lines overwhelming his senses, he shut his eyes one last time. All Mellow could do now was beg under his breath for the line to connect. For someone to answer the phone just this once.
- Alert! User Death Imminent. Seek Me-User Death Im-Medical-
...
Damn clown.