Season VI
Day IV
"It's Over"
The condensation from Stephan's heavy breaths gathers on the floor. He can feel his heart pounding against the cement, a mere layer of skin and blood between them. His hair is slicked down to his forehead with sweat, but every part of him feels cold. He allows his eyes to close for a second, only a second, before he knows he'll have to open them again.
A second passes, then another. Stephan shakily brings both hands under his chest and presses down into the floor. Pain tears at his mangled elbow. He doesn't want to look at it. He knows immediately that it isn't going to hold him. It has to. He tries again. It makes no difference.
He lifts his head as he rolls carefully onto his side. There's blood everywhere. It mars this entire corner of the room, turning the grey to bright scarlet with lumps of clots that were too late to form. The pattern flows from the edge of the room to his own fists and back. The figure between the two ends has long gone still. How long has it been since the announcement?
Stephan looks up, but there are no windows in the small space. He manages to curl in on himself enough to sit upright, and that's when the real pain starts. He'd felt it, but now it's all he can think about; that and the blood that gushes down the top of his back.
He turns to the side as his stomach tightens, but there's not even bile in his throat to spit up. Stephan reaches ever so slightly over his shoulder and, when his hand comes back, it's completely coated. It feels like a full day passes before he's able to look behind him. The floor beneath his back has been stained red.
It's not over. He never thought it was. He can deal with this; he can use his clothing to stem the bleeding. There's no way he's come all this way, done all of this, for it to stop here. He's killed people. That's something that Stephan never imagined he would do. He was given the sportsmanship award during last year's soccer season, he had more friends than almost anyone at his school, he genuinely loved nothing more than to be around people. And now-
Stephan can't even bring himself to look at her. He doesn't know her name even if he tried to get to know everyone here. He's almost glad. Every announcement has been like a shot to the gut because he can picture them. They're not some random stranger; he talked to them. And days later they're dead, just like that.
He won't pretend he would've saved them. Stephan hasn't tried, there's no point. He cares about people, but he cares about himself first. He doesn't want to die. The most terrifying thought in the world is that his name is going to be announced and no one's even going to care because it's just one more out of the way.
He can't force his feet back under him but they've gone numb. He has to keep trying. This can't be the end for him. It can't be.
Stephan pulls himself across the floor, but the spots only continue to grow in his vision. How deep did she cut him? He honestly doesn't know. He won't check.
He has to keep going. It's the only option.
His arm refuses to pull him another centimeter. Desperate tears soak the floor under him, but Stephan keeps telling himself to keep going. He looks through the blur and sees her, the inmate's face so still and dead.
He doesn't look like that. Not yet. It's not his time.
It's not.
Stephan curls himself further into the floor, but only for a moment. He feels so cold, but only for a moment because he's going to get up and he's going to keep moving.
He isn't going to admit it, no matter that deep down he knows.
It's over.