Warm Bodies (Herobrine X Entity303)

chapter 5

suicide and mental illness are already something to be weary of in this story but heres another major warning for ents suicide attempt and hospitalisation

There was blood everywhere. It had coated my hands, my chest, and sprayed the tiled walls of the bathroom. The grimy porcelain of the tub was smeared a deep copper-red, beginning to drip to the floor. Soap from the bath water stung the cuts, but with my head spinning and my extremities beginning to numb, physical pain began to lose significance. This is where I functioned best. In excruciating pain, but not yet in shock from blood loss. I belonged in this limbo between extreme agony and complete loss of nerve function, between a screaming overactive mind and completely braindead.

With my vision darkened and spotting, I thought of Herobrine again. I pictured him bruised and bloody, holding my neck firm against the ground and choking the last breath out of me. I thought of his white eyes, smoking and glowing intensely with rage and adrenaline. I envisioned the pain of being strangled, bones broken, blood vessels bursting in my eyes, badly bruised, trying to scream. I loved it all, and I desired it so badly.

Null had caught on quicker and quicker over the last few days, reacting sooner each attempt. It didn't take them long to break the bathroom door down to reach me before I was gone, medical kit already in hand every time. They knew, every time. I didn't want them here, I didn't want them to see me like this, to be the one saving my life every time. I hated the idea that they felt they had to constantly worry for me. I didn't want them to worry, I just wanted to die, and I hated that they were able to save me every time. I loved and hated them for their loyalty, and their stubbornness.

This time was different. My head didn't clear, and my vision didn't return. My naked body remained cold even in the warm water, my arms so numb I couldn't lift them if I wanted to, my neck so weak I had no choice but to recline on the edge of the tub. This time I'd gone too far, cut too deep. Null didn't have any choice but to call an ambulance, but I didn't have the strength to protest. All I could do was hope they wouldn't reach me in time. Finally, my brain shut off, and I drifted into a weightless blissful state of unconsciousness.

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A soft beeping and bright light bombarded my heightened senses as I drifted awake. I couldn't tell where I was, or if I was even alive. My vision, hearing and smell were all extremely oversensitive, and I found myself overwhelmed immediately after waking up. The stench of antiseptics and medical equipment and disinfectant and latex gloves nauseated me, and my stomach churned, but I was too exhausted to move. I quickly discovered the presence of an oxygen mask on my face, and I pulled it off, before putting it back on when I realised it helped block out the outside smells. Some distant unintelligible voices muttered in the room somewhere, but I didn't know who they were.

A cold hand touched mine, and through squinted eyes I turned my blurry vision to Null, who sat at my bedside. They held a bowl, presumably in case I puked, and their sign. They informed me the ambulance team had pronounced me dead, but I was successfully resuscitated at the hospital. It swiftly occurred to me that I was in a hospital, and the chatter in the room was doctors and nurses discussing my revival and the extent of my treatment. Someone approached me, telling me to rest, to not strain myself, and that a psychiatrist would be in to see me when I was feeling better. They left the room, and Null turned the light off to prevent headaches and overstimulation. I was too exhausted to be properly angry, but I was disappointed and sad to still be alive. I was really holding out hope this time. That must've been some determined ER team.

A knock on the open door, a wide shadow of a man in the doorway cast from the hallway light. Heavy footsteps approached my bed, and Null updated their sign to the visitor that I had just woken up, to go easy on me. As my head cleared and my thoughts formed coherence and awareness of my surroundings, my heart jumped into my throat as I realised who it was.

"Don't turn around, don't move, don't respond. Just lay there and listen to me." I was right. Herobrine had come to see me in the hospital.

"It wasn't Null who called the ambulance. They called me, and I called. The night you left me in the forest I followed you, and explained to Null what had happened. I gave them my number, knowing you'd try something like this. Sure enough, you did, because of course you would. I told the respondents all the relevant information, and demanded they keep you here for as long as it takes to get you better. And I don't just mean physically. I happen to be well acquainted with the psychiatry team here. As soon as you get out of this hospital bed, you're getting moved to the psychiatric ward, and you will stay there until you're not a threat to yourself or others. I'll be staying here with you for now, to make sure you don't fucking try anything again. Get some rest. I'll be back in an hour."

I heard his footsteps leave the ward and head down the hallway, and the room was cold and silent again. All that ran through my mind was shame, and anger, and humiliation, and hating him for even caring. I wanted to be done here, but I was dragged back by medical staff who refused to let me die, and by two associates who couldn't let me go. I hated how pathetic I was. The air was thick, and tense, and despite the rollercoaster of emotions and thoughts in my head, I couldn't do anything but cry. Null sat by me and allowed me the space to cry, and I hated them for caring, too. But I was thankful they stayed beside me. I felt so weak, so meager, so fucking pathetic. I was like a diseased rodent being kept alive to experiment on, being moved from cage to cage. At some point through torture, death is a mercy, and I wanted it.