Greamno and MCYT Oneshots

Blood (On My Plain White Floor)

Okayyyyy so this has blood, gore, murder and also major death-

Like this oneshot centers entirely around death. Be warned. (Admin!Grian)

Shapes curved and swayed in Grian's vision.

It wasn't often a player of his,.. stature died. A rare occurrence anywhere but on the battlefield.

Admins were treated with such care, after all. It was unlike one to meet their demise on their own server, especially not so young.

But the blood that coated the floors did not lie, and neither did the sword that was plunged into the strawberry-blond's chest. His death, like many before, was as real as the breath he no longer produced. 

Grian was dead. Or, he was dying, at least. Consciousness was already slipping from his grasp, his breaths already sparse and far-between. No saving him now.

(̶T̶h̶e̶ ̶i̶r̶o̶n̶y̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶d̶e̶a̶t̶h̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶l̶o̶s̶t̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶,̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶n̶ ̶w̶h̶i̶l̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶l̶a̶s̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶l̶i̶f̶e̶ ̶s̶l̶i̶p̶p̶e̶d̶ ̶a̶w̶a̶y̶)̶

Bitterness and mistake had fueled his death, his own hands betrayal. A mixture of loss, of haze and uncertainty. Not that anybody would know. Not that is would be shown as anything other than a tragedy, a spite-filled murder when finally announced.

Not that the world would ever know what had gone down in that room, what he had said. What he had admitted.

(̶T̶a̶u̶r̶t̶i̶s̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶d̶e̶a̶d̶,̶ ̶T̶a̶u̶r̶t̶i̶s̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶d̶e̶a̶d̶,̶ ̶T̶a̶u̶r̶t̶i̶s̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶d̶e̶a̶d̶-̶)̶

Even in death, even when the tide pulled back, nothing could rest. Even silence was not quiet enough, not with the secrets. Not with what he knew.

Symphonies could not be loud enough to drown out the whispers. Not screams, not operas. Not any of the tragedies that had passed.

Because they wouldn't know. Because he was still alive, because he was still there. There, out of his reach. There in the living world, while Grian hung on to a single thread. Switched souls, as insane as a concept. Because he was alive, and Grian was not.

The tiles themselves seemed to bleed with the admins blood. The painstakingly long process of bleeding out was as excruciating as it was heartbreaking, leaving no inch of the floor in front of him untouched.

A murder, through and through.

A traitor, through and through.

It shouldn't have been possible, not really. Grian was an admin, after all. He was cared for, he was loved. He was young, far to young.

Even though death was inevitable, living would have been a blessing. Always a blessing, something to be sought after. Inevitable though it was, death was a gift, he st as life a curse. Both balanced on inevitability, both fought for.

Yet, despite the hermits strong-willed spirit, despite the need to live, despite everything that should have stopped it, should have caused some miracle, Grian was dead.

Because Taurtis wasn't dead.

(̶B̶u̶t̶ ̶n̶e̶i̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶S̶a̶m̶)̶

Ooooh boy.

Yeah those on the Greamno server? Yeah you? This is your fault.

You know why-

Word Count: 530