An Akeshu/Shuake Collection

A Single Gunshot

TW: BLOOD, SELF HARM, KNIFE, GUN
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Context: (𝟾𝙿𝙼) 𝙰𝚔𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚒 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏.
(this is a short one I know-)

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Blood trickled down his arm at a slow, steady pace, dripping and racing down his skin, staining it a bright red. The blade was positioned carefully on the center of his forearm, constantly digging into his flesh. At each stroke, he pushed the blade deeper and deeper, with more deep crimson falling every second. So much blood. So many wounds. So many scars.

"I can't deal with this anymore. I can't live with all this shit anymore. I just want to leave it all behind me. Even hell would probably be better than this world.", he whispered to himself. Tears rolled from his lifeless eyes, forming streams and streams, falling on the floor, right by the pool of blood beneath his arm. "Why me? Why me? Why do I have to be the one to deal with all this pain and suffering? Why? Why?" he sobbed.

All of his possessions were scattered everywhere; his phone was across the room, his jacket was thrown onto the bed nearby. And the gun. The gun was within his reach. The same silencer gun, used for murders. He brought the gun to his head, pressed it deep into the side of his skull. Closing his eyes, he removed the safety, and placed his scarred hand on the trigger.

"This is for the betterment of everyone. I'll... I'll go the same way he did. I've made so many mistakes in my life, and I deserve to atone for them. I can't deal with this anymore." He pulled the trigger. No gunshot sound. No sound of a bullet shrapnel hitting the ground. Just the sound of tears and shouts, which never seemed to end. Which drowned out all the noise. Which drowned out the knock at his apartment door. Which drowned out everything.