Whumptober+ Short Stories - Volume 1

Prompt 2 - Bloody Hands

"Azaria, where's everyone else?"

No response.

"C'mon, 'Zari, don't be like that."

Still nothing. Blinking away the tears that still refused to stop running down his face, Warrick glanced down at the girl lying motionless in his arms. The stream of blood trickling down the side of her face was getting thinner, he noticed. That was nice. He really wished it would just stop altogether, but he figured Azaria would rather take care of it herself.

She always took care of things herself.

"Please, Azaria? Why don't you want to answer me?" He pleaded. In the silence that followed, he looked up at the surrounding forest, vaguely aware of the many bodies scattered everywhere around him. It was getting dark, he noticed. Maybe they could set up camp once Azaria woke up.

Snap out of it...

Warrick shook his head. Everything was fine; nothing was wrong with him. Nothing was wrong with anything. He looked back at Azaria's face. She always looked so pretty when she was sleeping...

She's not sleeping, though.

"She is..." Warrick said quietly.

She's dead, Warrick...

"Azaria's fine. You'll wake up soon, won't you, 'Zari?" His voice shook as he brushed the hair away from her pale face with a bloody hand. How had his hands gotten so covered in blood? He couldn't remember now...

Blood. Guns. An attack from strange people. Images filled Warrick's mind, but he pushed them away, instead shaking Azaria gently. "'Zari? C'mon, you've gotta wake up sometime..."

She's not going to wake up.

Warrick clenched his fists in desperation. Why couldn't his mind come to terms with reality? Azaria was fine.

She was... fine...

No, Warrick...

"Azaria, wake up!"

She can't...

"Azaria!"

Warrick, stop...

It's no use...

She's gone...