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«WATCH IT» gore, main character death, su!c!de
In seconds the world turned blurry, and the neon lights above the coffee shop were the only thing he could focus his sight on. The roof wasn't too high, it would be easy enough to climb it and continue his getaway.
Orders being screamed back and forth were mixed over with other voices demanding him to stop, but his heartbeat was louder, and ultimately drowned out everything around him. The world slowly turned cold, and by the time he got to the coffee shop the sound of his pulse in his ears had been replaced with an incessant ringing, momentarily confusing him. Was that an alarm? Had something caught fire, or was it just his ears? After climbing up to the roof, he took a second to breathe. Ragged breathes left his chest heaving up and down frantically, almost making his body look like it was convulsing.
Eerie music grew from the background until black. Credits started rolling and goddamnit, San couldn't wait for the next episode, but he really needed to go pee. Deciding that he could just find out if he made it out and then empty his bladder, he frenziedly pressed play and skipped the intro.
Red, blue and white lights shone on his face, quick hurried steps of men pulling out guns and taking cover behind their car doors. Noticing that he failed to see the buildings surrounding the coffee shop were too high to climb, he decided that jumping down and trying to make a run for it was the only way out. Even with 15 armed men pointing at him, dying to just shoot him, his survival instincts were close to unexistent.
Just as he's about to jump, he pulls out his own gun. A gasp fills the living room, when did he get the gun? Excitement bubbled in San's stomach, was the stupid male lead about to kill them all? He sets the barrel under his chin, taking half a deep breath before the bullet goes across his skull.
Brain matter must have splattered all over, and San should have been surprised. But he just lays awkwardly on the couch, as if he had fallen sideways from his sitting position. His eyes move and look all over the screen in front of him, but he can't seem to decipher what he's looking at. There's pressure on his ears, like when you get water stuck in them and can't hear clearly, but a steady humming passes through the barrier and drills inside his head. Panic should start settling in his stomach, and maybe it is, but he just can't think and keep track of himself. Until he notices the sting, the pain of an open wound just under his tongue. Everything clears instantly and he feels a soft liquid gliding down his neck. Blood. A mixture of saliva and blood pools and slowly drips from the corner of his mouth, the dark red colour eventually staining the couch, but no one is there to notice.
San's body is almost gone, and the only remnants of consciousness are trying to relive the evening to understand that he took the bullet instead. Finally, he feels his chest rise with some difficulty, his last breaths are soft and the last few exhales make an almost imperceptible whistling sound. With his body completely limp and relaxed, a final warmth covers his thighs, and another fluid stains the couch. He should have taken that trip to the bathroom instead.
