𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐍 ━━━━━ ᵈᵒᵘᵐᵃ

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐍 | 𝟎𝟐

❈(𝐘/𝐍)'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕--𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫❈

𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐊

𝐒𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐓

𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐊

❝God--dammit.❞

After what felt like a painful eternity to you, you were able to pluck out the daunting metal bullet from your side.

A morbid mess you've been trying to fix for the last five minutes. The pain was excruciating, a white-hot spike that tore through your senses with every breath and movement. But it was out now, thankfully.

Now all there was left to do, was to stitch it up.

With a heavy sigh, you dropped your head, your blurry vision enveloping the sight of deep red running down the bowl of the sink.

Blood mixed with water, swirling in crimson sluices before disappearing down the drain. The harsh, metallic scent filled the small bathroom, making it hard to ignore.

Your shaky hand, which gripped the once cold tweezers--now a sickening warmth--loosened, and the tool clunked against the red-stained countertop.

Your hand, now red from how tightly you held the tweezers and from your own blood, trembled uncontrollably.

You could barely feel your fingertips.

With a deep breath to steady yourself, you grabbed the wet cloth you had prepared beforehand and pressed it against the screaming red wound.

The pressure sent another wave of pain through you, and you had to bite down on your lip to keep from letting out a sound.

❛I'm slipping.❜

At the moment, no, you were not slipping from consciousness. Rather, you were referring to your--

𝐁𝐙𝐙𝐙

Your thoughts were interrupted by the agitating buzz of your phone, its persistent vibration cutting through your concentration. You took a quick glance at the screen, not sparing a second thought before wiping your other hand clean and answering it.

❝Hello?❞ You murmured into the phone, tilting your head down to examine the white cloth in your hand turning a deep shade of red.

❝There she is! My best girl, how ya' doing?❞