Mixed Oneshots

Nicole Fitzgerald: Lady Macbeth

~This is based off of Lady Macbeth's night scene and the scene where she kills herself.~

'He's not dead. He's not dead. He's not. I saved him. I saved him from the prison. I got him out of there. Why do I have his vest on? Where did I get it from? Why is his eye patch before me? Why...' In the empty, window lit room the brunette knife Queen stood. "He's not dead." He can't be. Surely. Surely he isn't. Then why is there blood on her hands? Who's blood is it? "He can't be..." He is, isn't he? Her legs-- trembled. He is... Giving into her knees needs they collapsed to the ground. Her eyes lowered to her clean hands. 'Why is there still blood?' She brought her hands closer to her face. The stench. It made her want to vomit. "Damn blood." She rubbed her hands against her jeans. "Get off..." As she continued to rub. "Get off my hands!" Faster she rubbed her hands to her jeans til they burnt. Step. Step. Step. Step... In front of her lowered head stood shoes connected to a body. Look up? Did she really hear him? It just stood there. 'Should I?' No. Yes. No. Yes. "My hands are still covered in blood Phillip." It's okay. How, Phillip? It's okay Nic. Her head lifted up from the shoes, to his pants, his belt, his shirt with a moist spot in the center, his neck. "It's okay Nicole." It felt like a knife going into her stomach. 'How is he here?' But he's not here. There is just a wall in front of her. Feeling a hand rest on her right shoulder, her head turned to look. "Your head Phillip..." Blood dripped by his bad eye. It felt like another knife was pushing into her stomach. It's okay. It's not okay. 'He's not here anymore.' The weight on her shoulder left. He's gone. The pain grew still. Falling to her side she cried out. Her bloodied hands reached over her stomach with two of her knives in her. "Phillip." 'Am I whispering?' "Phillip!" 'Not loud enough.' Bang. Bang. Bang. A walker at the door? The handle moving, shaking. It's locked. Is it? It is. A laugh broke from her mouth. 'He is dead.' And she will be too. It left like another knife in her. A third knife missing from her belt. Laying on her back she felt the blood of three wounds trickle down her sides. 'It's his blood. Is it? It's mine.' Bang. Bang. Bang. There goes the door again. Bang. Crash. Her head turned to three blurs. 'You’re dead though. Jon... Ryan... Phillip. How are the three of you here?' The essence inside her left. Her bloodied hand lifted then soon grabbed. "Brian..." 'He isn't dead.' But they are. Then… darkness.