psycho | larry

6. To All Those We Lost

WARNING: MAJOR/MINOR CHARACTER DEATH AND GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF HARM TO HUMANS

"Niall!"

With his ears ringing from the shock of his miraculous win, Louis forced himself to jump into action, racing behind the decorated booth with his two mates to help Niall off the cold, hard ground. Even with the three of them, they struggled with the weight of the future resting upon them, Niall's crimson blood staining every available inch of their skin and costumes. Louis could hear the teen struggling to stay alive, his heartbeat slowing beneath Louis' palm as his harsh breath leveled out.

Once Niall was placed back in the wooden chair, Louis grabbed the nearest plush stuffed toy and pressed it to the fatal knife wound on Niall's chest. Panic filled him as the blood continued to flow, leaking from the toy lion's purple fur. He heard the other two yelling around him, both fighting to be louder than the wind, but Louis could not focus on them. His eyes remained glued to Niall's face, watching as pain settled into the wrinkles of his pale skin, his eyes wide and disoriented as his head lulled back, facing the top of the enclosed booth.

"Niall, baby, please... God, we have to get him to a hospital!" Liam wailed, running a gentle hand over the side of Niall's face, dragging fresh blood over dried. "Please... don't leave me," he croaked as he tried to turn Niall's head to face him.

But Niall's gaze remained on Louis, unblinking. Slowly, his mouth opened, chapped blue lips allowing more blood to gush out. The blood reignited the previous trail down his neck, mixing with the liquid clinging to the stuffed lion. The two fluids danced, dripping across Louis' hand as they escaped from the only body they had ever known. Niall's lips moved as if he were trying to form his final words, but no sound came out.

"God, I don't know what to do. Fuck, Louis, what do we do? We are trapped here... I..." Eleanor struggled to keep calm as she latched onto Louis' free arm, shaking him. "He is going to die if we don't get him help."

Even with the demands for his attention, Louis kept his focus on the dying teenager. Blue gazed into blue... or at least, what remains of blue. Niall's eyes were bloodshot, red streams spilling into the ocean of milky white, swirling together as darkness threatened to drown them. Louis watched helplessly as the life left him, watching as death crept in and latched onto his soul. His hand let go of the stuffed toy, tear-filled eyes glancing downward as it plopped into Niall's lap, its own soul being swept away into the wind.

Niall's jaw tensed as he attempted to speak once more, his hand weakly scraping against Louis' thigh. It was silent for a moment, a dull buzz growing in the back of Louis' skull as he observed Niall's lips, waiting. Finally, the teenager coughed, his eyes fluttering shut for the last time. As his body finally held up a white flag and gave up in its fight against the inevitable, it leaned to the right, knocking him off the chair and directly into Louis.

Liam sobbed brokenly as he reached for Niall's body, landing in a pile on top of Louis. "No, no, please!" He bellowed, knocking the decrepit chair out of his way as he pulled Niall into his lap. He rocked his dead body back and forth, ignoring the blood and dirt that caked to his skin.

Louis pushed himself away from the pair, his back pressed against the side of the unstable booth. He took a deep breath, and then another, as the reality of the situation flooded his bones. Niall's dead. His best mate Niall... gone. Right in front of him. He watched as the life left his eyes, as he took his final breath. And now, Louis was forced to watch Liam cradle Niall's dead body as he wept.

They need to get out of here.

"Liam," Louis began, accepting Eleanor's help to his feet. He brushed himself off, shaking his head when he realized that his efforts were fruitless, the dirt and drying blood were a part of him now. He stepped forward, leaning down to place his hand on Liam's shoulder. His hand shook with the strength of the older's sobs, fingers caressing Liam's cold skin through the large rip in his cassock costume. "Liam," he said more forcefully. Following a deep breath, Louis continued, "we need to go, it's not safe to stay here. I know this situation isn't ideal... I'm sorry. We are too out in the open. I... I think we need to find others and get out of here." It was hard for him to brush over Niall's death and say that they need to move on, but he has to be sensible about this and he knows it. Tears threaten to spill, but he wipes them away, straightening his back.