~
"Will I d-do that again?" She asked quietly as he grabbed a new wipe.
"Yes." He nodded, wiping down her forehead.
"A lot?" She questioned, swallowing thickly.
"Yes." He repeated. "What are you thinking?"
"W-whether to do it or not." She sniffle...
The soldier stormed down the hallway, footsteps heavy as usual on the tiles. He's been ordered by Madam B to retrieve Nova for a mission in America; the pair had to go together for this one again.
Pushing open the door for her dorm, his eyebrow twitched in confusion when she wasn't sat on her bed where she usually would be when she had nothing to do, most of the time reading a book. A girl, about 11, nervously walked past him, going to her drawers to put her ballet shoes in them.
"Where's Black?" Winter asked sternly and the girl looked over at him, afraid.
"I, uh, saw her go to the showers." She answered and he nodded, walking away quickly, leaving her alone.
Making his way through the Red Room, he advanced towards the shower room and pushed the door open. The cubicles reached the floor so he wouldn't be able to see anything. Only one was running so he knocked on the door a few times.
"Nova, we have a mission. C'mon." He muttered and revived no reply. "What are you even doing in here? You're shower times are in the mornings."
With furrowed brows, he moved into the cubicle beside hers and knocked on the walls separating them. The panels didn't hit the floors like the doors did but he wouldn't look to check, respecting her privacy.
"Nova, seriously, if you don't be quick, Madam B will be down here." Winter added and glanced down at the floor, sighing.
He didn't get a reply again and he started to understand why when streaks of blood seeped under the panel, heading for the shower drain that every shower used. More of them streaked across the floor, bleeding into the clear water and running past his boots, wetting them.
"Nova, this isn't funny now. We have a mission." Winter snapped, eyes wide when more thick streams of blood seeped under the stall and into his. "Fuck."
Quickly, he left his stall and started to bang on Nova's door until one of the hinges broke and he pulled it off, breaking the other one. His step paused when he saw the teenager slumped on the floor in her ballet uniform, one of her daggers in hand and her wrists slit open vertically.
In a rush, the soldier moved towards her and picked her up, one arm under her knees and another under her shoulders, her head falling back. Her skin had paled and blood was still pouring out of her arms like a crimson river, dropping across the tiled floor.
