Murder Drones Stories/Oneshots

Another Night, Another Life (V/Uzi)

Warning! Themes of self harm ahead! Lots of angst. Read with caution. Takes place after episode 8 with a big alteration to eposode 8. Love you guys, mwah mwah mwah!!!
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Moonlight filtered in through the bathroom window, cold and dreary. The bathroom was spacious enough but old and decrepit. Cracks spiderwebbed through the walls and floor tiles were coming up from the floors every now and then.

V was curled on the floor of said bathroom, her knees tucked tight against her chest. Her silver hair swirled down in front of her eyes as she took shallow breaths.

Her eyes focused in and out on the blueish-white tile and walls, the light from the window above the tub making her eyes water. V didn't want to be here, not like this, but here she was.

She peeled her hands off her knees and looked at them as they shook in and out of focus. V's eyes finally came into focus, dark oil dripping down her wrists.

She cut again. After she promised herself she wouldn't.

But V couldn't help herself.

It was the only way to make the river of her thoughts stop for a moment. The pain was a distraction, so much so that it helped more than it hurt.

She lifted her claws again, running them over her left arm. The blades lightly traced V's skin, making her shiver.

V pressed her claws into her skin, the metal gleaming in the moonlight. Oil was already coated against the weaponry in splotches layers, creating a stark contrast against the lighter colored metal.

Heavy breathing echoed through the bathroom as the blades pierced through V's skin. She hissed in pain as droplets of oil flooded beneath the blade. She dragged the claw down the length of her arm, pushing deeper.

She needed this.

V exhaled shakily as she withdrew her claws again. Her head was blissfully empty, the usual quick pace of her thoughts gone to Robo-God knows where.

But she didn't care why. She just cared that it was a fix. She only cared that she at least felt better for a bit.

Pain throbbed through her arm, and V sighed in bliss. One more round couldn't hurt, right? If would help, right?

And it wasn't like anyone would see the slices in her skin. V used to cut around her chest so it was hidden by her jacket, but lately, she had preferred to wear a black Hoodia that draped over her hands. It covered the cuts.

While V refused to manually heal the cuts with her saliva, they still healed eventually. And every time they healed a thin line lighter than the skin around it was left: a scar.

V's head felt fuzzy and heavy as she tried to remember when she started this cycle of pain. It was some time after they defeated Cyn, wasn't it? But why?

Why,
Why,
Why?

Something pierced V's heart, cold and sharp. That was it. But she refused to acknowledge it.

Her teeth grit as she slashed her claws at her skin, a thin but deep series of gashed opening and oil beginning to spill forth. No more thinking.

It hurt.

It hurt to think, to breathe, to know.

V took a deep breath in through her clenched teeth, the air hissing. Something cold and wet plinked down onto her arm and smeared the oil welling up from the cuts.

She was crying again. After she promised herself she wouldn't.

"Augrh!" V cried out in anguish, furiously wiping her tears away. It hurt to move her arms, and they shook in protest, but she did it regardless.