"Tainted Reflection" | MDP HORROR FANFICTION

012 & 013; Don't Dwell on It.

GORE WARN + CHARACTER DEATH


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Duncan gazed at the large wound on Ollie's side, the knife still lodged within as Ollie's eyes appeared vacant, staring blankly into the void. The sight was surreal, a nightmarish tableau that seemed to stretch time itself. Confusion washed over Duncan like a cold wave, crashing against the shores of his mind. Why had he stabbed Ollie? The question echoed relentlessly, a haunting refrain that drowned out all rational thought. His heart raced, pounding in his chest like a drum, each beat a reminder of the gravity of the situation. Memories flickered through his mind— moments of camaraderie that now felt like a cruel joke. How had it come to this? The weight of his actions pressed down on him, suffocating and heavy, as he struggled to comprehend the reality before him. He winced quietly, his breath hitching in his throat as he grasped the knife, its cold steel slick with blood. With a surge of adrenaline, he forcefully pulled it from Ollie's body, the sound of tearing flesh and the rush of blood spurting out in all directions filled the air, painting the ground in a gruesome shade of crimson. The warmth splattered against his skin, a visceral reminder of the life that was ebbing away before him. Ollie's body jerked slightly, a reflexive response to the pain, but his eyes remained unfocused, as if he were staring through Duncan rather than at him. Panic surged within Duncan, a primal instinct to flee battling against the overwhelming urge to help. He dropped the knife, its clatter against the ground echoing like a death knell, and knelt beside Ollie, his hands trembling as he pressed them against the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood. "Stay with me, Ollie! Please!" Duncan's voice cracked, desperation lacing his words as he fought against the rising tide of horror. He could feel the warmth of Ollie's blood seeping through his fingers, a stark contrast to the chill that was beginning to settle in the air. The world around him blurred, the sounds of the night fading into a distant hum as he focused solely on the figure before him, the person he had betrayed. As he looked into Ollie's eyes, searching for any sign of recognition, he felt a wave of guilt wash over him, threatening to drown him in its depths. How could he have let this happen? Duncan's eyes widened in panic, adrenaline coursing through him like a raging river as he pressed his hands against Ollie's injury, desperately attempting to control the bleeding that seeped through his fingers. The warmth of Ollie's blood felt foreign and terrifying, a stark reminder of the fragility of life. It seemed as though time was accelerating beyond his control, each second stretching into an eternity as he fought against the rising tide of fear that threatened to engulf him. "Please, Ollie!" Duncan's voice trembled, cracking under the weight of his desperation. "I am truly sorry!" The words spilled out in a rush, a frantic plea that echoed in the stillness around them. He could see the pain etched on Ollie's face, the way his eyes flickered with confusion and fear, and it tore at Duncan's heart. He could hardly breathe, the air thick with the metallic scent of blood and the suffocating weight of his own guilt. How had it come to this? How had a moment of recklessness led to such a catastrophic outcome? Ollie's gaze met his, a flicker of recognition and trust shining through the pain. In that moment, Duncan felt a surge of resolve. He couldn't change what had happened, but he could fight for his friend, could be the anchor in this storm. "You're going to be okay," he promised, though doubt gnawed at him. "I won't let you go. Not now. Not ever." As he continued to apply pressure, he could feel the weight of the world pressing down on him, but he refused to let it crush him. He would do whatever it took to save Ollie, to make amends for the mistakes that had led them here.
Duncan expressed his deep remorse, his voice resonating amid the turmoil that surrounded them. The chaos of the moment seemed to fade into the background as he focused solely on Ollie, whose pale face reflected the gravity of their situation. With a surge of determination, Duncan seized Ollie's arm, hoisting him up with a strength that belied his own exhaustion. The weight of guilt pressed heavily on his chest, but he pushed it aside, knowing that every second counted. The world around them blurred into a haze of colors and sounds, but Duncan's focus was unwavering. He could feel the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, a burden he was willing to bear. He whispered reassurances to Ollie, hoping to instill some semblance of calm amidst the storm. "I've got you," he murmured, his voice steady despite the turmoil. "We're going to get through this." With every stride, Duncan's resolve grew stronger. He could not afford to falter now; not when Ollie's life hung in the balance. The path ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but he was determined to navigate it. After walking for an extended period, Duncan stopped, his breath coming in heavy gasps as he surveyed the dimly lit surroundings. The air was thick with dust and the faint scent of rust, remnants of a once-bustling warehouse that had long since fallen into disrepair. He carefully lifted Ollie onto his back, cradling him gently yet securely, mindful of the injuries that marred his friend's body. With a determined resolve, Duncan turned his gaze toward the towering ladder that loomed before him, its rungs worn and splintered from years of neglect. It was the same ladder from which Ollie had fallen almost a year prior, a moment that had changed everything for him. Now, as he prepared to ascend, the weight of that memory pressed heavily on his heart, fueling his urgency. Each step up the ladder felt like a battle against time itself. The rungs creaked under his weight, echoing in the stillness of the warehouse, a stark reminder of the precariousness of their situation. Duncan's muscles strained as he hoisted Ollie higher, his mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. He needed to find a safe place for Ollie, a sanctuary where he could tend to his injuries and ensure his survival. The urgency of the moment propelled him upward, each movement a silent prayer for his friend's recovery. As he reached the top, Duncan paused for a moment, catching his breath and scanning the area. The upper level of the warehouse was dimly lit, with shafts of light filtering through broken windows, casting eerie shadows on the concrete floor. It was a stark contrast to the chaos below, a place that felt both isolated and secure. He carefully maneuvered Ollie off his back and laid him down on a makeshift bed of discarded crates and old blankets, his heart racing with a mix of hope and fear. Duncan knelt beside Ollie, his hands trembling as he checked for signs of life. The sight of his friend's pale face sent a jolt of panic through him, but he forced himself to remain calm. He extended his hands, gently cradling Ollie's face, his fingers trembling as they brushed against the soft fur that was now marred by the stark contrast of crimson. Blood trickled from Ollie's nose, a slow, agonizing stream that made its way to his mouth, staining the once-innocent features of Ollie. The sight was heart-wrenching; Ollie's bright eyes, usually so full of life and mischief, were now clouded and distant, as if he were already drifting away to a place far beyond Duncan's reach. Duncan struggled to contain his tears, the salty warmth pooling in his eyes and threatening to spill over. Each drop felt like a betrayal, a sign of his helplessness as he witnessed the person he cared for slipping away, feeling utterly powerless to assist. The world around him faded into a blur, the sounds of chaos and panic dimming as he focused solely on the fragile creature in his hands. Clinging to the hope that Ollie would survive, that this was not the end, Duncan placed his hand over the wound, feeling the warm blood seep through his fingers, a visceral reminder of the fragility of life. His heart raced, pounding in his chest like a drum, each beat echoing the urgency of the moment. He could feel the warmth of Ollie's body, but it was fading, the life force that had once radiated so vibrantly now flickering like a candle in the wind. Desperation clawed at him as he pressed his palm harder against the wound, willing his energy, his love, his very essence into Ollie. "Stay with me, buddy," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotion. "You're strong. You can fight this." But deep down, he felt the gnawing fear that his words might not be enough, that no amount of love or hope could turn back the clock on this cruel twist of fate. As the blood continued to flow, Duncan's thoughts spiraled into a frantic plea for help. He needed to act, to do something—anything—to save Ollie. He glanced around, searching for someone, anyone, who could assist. Duncan exclaimed, embracing Ollie tightly while sniffling, "I gave it my all!" His voice trembled with a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration, the weight of his emotions spilling over as he held Ollie close. The warmth of his embrace was a comforting balm against the chill of the moment, a silent acknowledgment of the struggles they had faced together, even if he was just a body. 

Cold.