I just finished arcane, I'm very sad.
The air in the room felt suffocating, thick with something Sam couldn’t name, but he could feel it. It had been building for days now, this tension, this strange unease that clung to Colby like a storm cloud. Sam tried to ignore it, tried to chalk it up to the stress of their work, the exhaustion of constant travel, but tonight… tonight, it felt different.
He’d just set his bag down, looking over at Colby who was pacing around the apartment, his face hard and unreadable.
“Colby?” Sam said softly, his voice tentative. "What’s going on? You’ve been acting distant all day.”
Colby froze mid-step, his body stiffening like he’d been caught in a lie. Sam saw it—the flash of something dark in Colby’s eyes before it quickly faded, replaced by cold indifference.
“You don’t get it, Sam,” Colby spat, his voice low but sharp. “You never do. You’re so damn clueless.”
Sam blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean? I don’t—”
But Colby wasn’t listening. He cut him off, his voice rising in anger. “You think everything’s fine, don’t you? But you’re the problem. You always are.”
Sam’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t know what had triggered this—he hadn’t done anything, not that he could remember. “Colby, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know what’s happening, but please, just talk to me.”
“I don’t need to talk to you!” Colby shouted, his hands balling into fists. “I’m sick of you acting like everything’s just perfect. Like you never do anything wrong!”
Sam felt a cold wave of confusion and fear wash over him. This wasn’t like Colby. Not like this. “I’m sorry,” Sam whispered, his voice small, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Before Sam could even process it, Colby lunged forward, grabbing the first thing his hands landed on—a mug from the coffee table. He threw it across the room with terrifying force. It shattered against the wall with a deafening crash, and Sam flinched, instinctively stepping back.
"Colby!" Sam pleaded, his voice shaking. "Please stop! I don’t know what’s going on, but I didn’t mean it!"
But Colby wasn’t stopping. His eyes were wild, filled with a rage that seemed to consume him. He began throwing everything in reach—books, picture frames, anything he could get his hands on. Each object seemed to explode against the walls or floor, and Sam barely had time to react, ducking and dodging as the items came crashing toward him.
“I’m sorry!” Sam screamed, his voice breaking. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”
But Colby wasn’t listening anymore. The anger in his eyes was all-consuming, his chest heaving as he grabbed a heavy glass vase and hurled it at Sam with all his might. The glass shattered upon impact, pieces cutting into Sam’s arms and face. He gasped, stumbling backward, his body trembling. Blood began to drip down his forehead, mingling with the sharp sting of the glass that had embedded itself into his skin.
“Colby, stop!” Sam cried, his eyes wide with terror. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, please—"
But the words were lost in the chaos. Colby, now completely unhinged, grabbed a plate off the counter and threw it at Sam. The plate hit him square in the head with a sickening crack, and Sam collapsed to the floor, his body spasming from the impact. He groaned, his vision going blurry as pain spread through his skull like wildfire.
Colby stood over him, his breath ragged, his hands shaking violently. He stared down at Sam, his face twisted in something Sam couldn’t recognize—was it hatred? Disgust? Or just emptiness? Sam couldn’t tell, his mind fogging as he struggled to stay conscious.
“Colby…” Sam whispered weakly, his hand reaching out as if he could somehow reach the friend he once knew. “Please... I'm sorry...”
Colby didn’t answer. Instead, he walked over to a shelf where an old picture frame sat—one of the two of them, smiling from a camping trip they had taken together years ago. Colby paused, staring at it for a long moment, before his hand clenched around the frame.
With a sudden, violent motion, he threw it at Sam’s head. The frame collided with his skull, and everything went black.
---
The apartment was silent. The chaos had ceased, leaving only the soft sound of Sam’s labored breaths, now barely audible. He lay on the floor, blood staining the carpet beneath him, his body crumpled in an unnatural heap. The room, once filled with life, now felt like a tomb.
Colby stood motionless in the doorway, staring at the destruction he’d wrought. His chest still rose and fell with erratic breaths, but there was no triumph in his expression—only a hollow emptiness.
He didn’t move for a long time. He didn’t even glance at Sam’s still form. His eyes were fixed on something distant, somewhere in the room, as if he were looking through Sam and into a place far beyond.
Finally, without a word, Colby turned and walked out of the apartment, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft click.
---
Hours later, when the silence in the apartment had stretched too long, Sam’s body remained where it had fallen—cold, lifeless, a victim of a violent storm he never saw coming. The once unbreakable bond between two best friends was now shattered, beyond repair.
And Colby? He was gone, the only trace of him left in the chaos he had caused.
In the dim light, a single frame lay discarded on the floor. A picture of two friends who had once meant everything to each other. It was now the only evidence left of their bond—their friendship, now nothing more than a memory.
