Mourning
Prompt: #005 Lament
Notes: Written for 100situations
Dripping down her throat in thick streams, her blood shone a brilliant red under the white, fluorescent light. A wide gaping wound slashed her neck, cutting through the artery and veins and revealing the bared, bloody flesh beneath.
Her ice blue eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling, empty with milky white residue blurring their focus. Her skin was ghostly pale – so much so that it was almost translucent. Her hair, once vibrant orange, was washed out and grungy-looking.
"Sir?" the young morgue attendant prompted Mulder out of his reverie. "Is it her?"
Mulder felt the bile rise in his throat and he swallowed a few times before he was able to speak. He was only just able to keep in the tears that were desperate to fall. "It…it isn't her," he slowly choked out. "It's not Scully."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," Mulder confirmed. He walked dazedly toward the cold metal door, wishing now more than ever that he'd been able to do something – anything at all – to have saved his partner from whoever or whatever being had abducted her.
As he gave the uncovered body on the morgue table one last lingering glance, he wished it had been him instead.