Red Looks Better On Liars- Schlatt X Quackity

33 ~ In A Pool Of Inky Darkness, Swim Toward Me

(switching back to quackity's pov briefly) Tw (I suggest you guys look. If you want to go in as a surprise, suit yourself it'll be super upsetting though.)

My eyes never seemed to open, but never seemed to close. I couldn't blink, but I couldn't see. I was right back into that black abyss. I was waiting for something, or someone, I don't know. My foot taps into the black, a mushy glob sticking to my shoe and pulling upward as if stretching to pull me back. I gasp, a gag retching from my lips as I struggle to lift my foot. It was as if I was stuck in a pile of sticky, wet, thick, mud. I shutter.

I drop of water hits my face, hitting me in the forehead. I flinch, a scowl forming on my lips. I look up, and another hits me. Another, and another, until it's pouring. I reach my hand out and it's dry. It's pouring but only where I stand. I struggled to move once more, aiming to leave this awful wet mushy spot. I couldn't. The mud kept me in place as the water hit me.

I felt the dryness only a step away, but I couldn't see it. Maybe the dryness was only in my mind. Maybe everywhere was this tormenting. Maybe the mud wasn't keeping me stuck in Hell, maybe the mud was keeping me from it. I drop my closed fist to my side, a shivering shutter leaving my lips. I exerted the energy I had left, pulling myself forward. Nothing helped. My foot remained cemented down into the mud, reminding me I was stuck.

I try again, but this time my knees buckle, slamming me down into the black ink. I sink further into it until my waist down is submerged. I gasp a breath and try to keep my hands up. The rain was pounding down on me, slipping into my mouth and drowning me. The mud is only keeping me safe. It'll protect me, I just need to give it time.

The mud felt so unbelievably cold. It froze my body as if I was lying in the snow. I sank deeper. My chest, then my neck. I rest my arms down, a sigh leaving my lips. I keep my head tilted down, to avoid the water from drowning me where I stand. Where I can't escape. Why did I trust the mud to save me? The mud only drags me down, but I can't leave. I'm too far in now.

My arms go next.

My neck is isolated in the black, gasping breaths. The rain hits harder.

My chin is now submerged. I lift my head, staring into the rain. Water fills my nose and mouth, and I gasp. I fall deeper in. The ink trickles into my mouth. It's thin, not the thick that surrounds me. It's hot. I gag, coughing and spitting, trying to avoid the inevitable. Maybe I should just give up.

I swallow a mouthful of the ink, a deep iron hitting my nostrils. Not as blood tasted, but as salt. I retch. My mouth became dry. I try to pull myself up, but I just sink deeper down. The slow trickle painfully slowly became a downpour, filling my mouth with the hot liquid. I was drowning. I try to swallow it as it comes, but I can't. There's too much. I'm drowning. Help me.

I thrash my neck, but I only sink. The mud around me turns to ink, flowing freely around me. I fall quickly, head submerged. I couldn't swim. I could never swim. I thrash desperately, trying to get to the top for air. My lungs burnt and ached and tears filled my eyes. I give one last frantic push before I go limp. I feel the ink get colder and colder as I go down, slowly swaying from side to side, leading me to the death I so much deserved. Was this goodbye?

I slowly open my mouth, freezing ink filling my mouth and lungs. I instinctively cough, but honestly, who am I kidding? I'm dead, there's no use. I gasp a breath, only making the liquid come in faster. The heartbeat hammering in my throat falls silent, and I go limp. My body flows evenly with the ink, but I'm not there. I am not waking up this time.

--(back to Schlatt)

A soft cough leaves the backseat and I perk up. He's alive? I twist my head backwards, the man momentarily becoming my priority. He's shaking. He's probably cold. I turn back toward the road, turning up the heating. It was pretty hot in here. He must be fucking freezing.

Another cough sounds, this one more weak than the last. I furrow my eyebrows. A soft gasp leaves his lips and I frown. Is he really that cold? "You okay sugar pumpkin?" I coo, looking in the rearview mirror. His head is facing the seats, back to the mirror. I couldn't see his face, but I could tell he was shaking.

One last cough dissipates into a horrific gag, into sick choking. As if he were drowning in his spit. My eyes widen and quickly dart back to the mirror. His body is convulsing now, gagging and choking. His body shakes to his back, eyes plastered open and facing the ceiling. He sucks in a desperate gulp of air before his shaking stops. He stops. I can't hear his breath. He's not breathing.

This fact hits me immediately, and I swerve the car to the side of the road. I don't bother even going outside, instead throwing myself over the console and straddling him, feeling for his wrist. I grasp it, muttering incoherencies under my breath. I felt nothing but his limp wrist. Not a single jitter, not a cough, not even a breath. My eyes slowly trail upward to his face, my eyes welling with tears. His eyes were plastered open, hand clawing at his neck. He had a seizure. This one was the final killing blow to take out Alexis Dumbass Quackity.

My hand digs into his chest as I attempt CPR, gasping breaths as I begin to cry. I go in a semi-rhythm, pushing and pushing, hoping for a sudden jolt. I didn't want him to die. He couldn't die. He couldn't die at my hands, let alone without the revival book. I was stupid to rely on it being here. I was so fucking stupid.

My rhythm becomes uneven and I growl. The growl soon turns into a guttural scream as the tears take hold of me. I was tough, but I couldn't lose him. I keep pressing, trying, screaming, for about 3 minutes I try. After that, I became numb to the world. I don't even notice the sprinkle of rain hitting my inky black windshield.

After 5 minutes, I stop. Slowly, I rise, sucking in desperate gulps and gasps, heat escaping his once lively body.

I pull the hand from his neck, holding it in mine. I could keep trying CPR, but it's no use. He's gone. I push my hands over his eyelids, closing his eyes. I am asleep. I drop my hands from his wrist, placing both in mine. His mouth was deep set to a line, the last face before his untimely death. Even in death, he truly was beautiful. I glance at the digital clock, a sharp 10:30 p.m. I glance back to Alex. My hand brushes the hair from his forehead, laying a kiss on his head before standing. I crawl back to the front seat, bile creeping into my throat. I just killed my-- I just killed Quackity.

I sit in the front seat for a second, bringing my legs to my face, a quiet sob leaving my lips. I haven't cried in a long time, any less alone. I was alone. My one love was dead, and it's my fault. I felt so useless. I killed the only person who cared for me. I sit there for a second and just cry. There was nothing else I could do. I was useless.

And as if the world could see what I had, it began to rain.

The black abyss of night surrounded me, and I turned off my car. I left myself vulnerable in the night, rain pounding on my windshield.

In the darkness, and in the rain, I feel at peace.

For you, I leave myself vulnerable.

For you,

I'm sorry.

And I think that now more than ever,

I love you

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