RoyalChaos Oneshots Book

Will You Remember Me?

OKAY MORE DEATH FICS SORRY
The new Walking Dead Game episode came out, and hOOOLLLLYYY SHIT that was inspirational man. The ending song wow. ;A;

So here's a Garry Mod's Murder!AU. As usual, listen to the song while reading. pLEASE MAKE SURE IT'S THE WALKING DEAD VERSION BECAUSE THERE'S TWO VERSIONS YEAH FUCK ME RIGHT??

Title: Will You Remember Me?
Genre: Angst
Trigger warnings: Cursing, violence, death, blood and gore imagery.
Song: Remember Me (Telltale's The Walking Dead Season 2 Episode 3 version) - Anadel

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I don't remember a lot. I don't remember getting dressed this morning, or making breakfast, or getting the mail. I don't remember calling my sister, or paying phone bills.
I do however remember plunging a 5 1/2 inch knife into the neck of my best friend. That's the kind of shit you don't forget. I don't want to remember anything anymore. It should have been him, damnit. It should have been him. If Adam hadn't lost the gun, maybe it could've been.

But now I'm out of time. And there's no more room for "if"s.

The hallway was dark. The stench of rotting flesh and gore filled the narrow walls, causing myself great discomfort, as I held back gags and heaves. No matter how hard I tried, my eyes didn't focus. I guess it wasn't really a matter of "if" they could focus, but more of a matter of they refused to. I don't blame them, though. "If"s are shitty and I wouldn't want to look at what they had to see.
My fingers grasped the handle of the blade, feeling my palms sweat, knuckles going white. I don't remember being here, and I don't remember how I got this knife. But I had to. I don't know why, I just fucking had to. It wasn't voices in my head, possesed spirits, or even psychotic blood lust. It was instinct. It was natural. And it terrified me.
I moved my hands to the metal of the knife, sloppily wiping away the gore from the last encounter. It was a shame. Max was a good guy. Had a future and everything. I didn't have time to grieve. That wasn't my type of thing anyway. Grieving makes you look exposed. Not weak, but vulnerable. I'm not vunerable. I don't have those things anymore. Not here, atleast. I only find weakness in one thing now.

And that thing was creating footsteps beside me.

I whirled around, to find a friend of mine, creeping through the shadows. He was desperatley trying to contain his breathing, so I wouldn't hear him. I almost wanted to laugh, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I loved him, but that didn't change what was about to happen. I slowly shuffled my feet, step after step, closer and closer towards Steven. I raised my knife, shaking and trembling. He turned around, gasping for air. His face flushed, as he stumbled backwards. I reached my arm out, catching him. His green eyes, so filled with innocence, and now terror, stared daggers into me. They soon became damp with tears, not of fear, but of pity.

Pity of me. Pity of what I was.
It didn't bother me. I'd forget it in time anyways, like I always did.

He put his hand to my face, wiping the grime and blood off my cheek with his thumb. I lowered my knife, slowly, but with silence and dignity.
"Anthony." His raspy voice muttered. I cringed at the movement of his words. I hated the sound of my own name. It filled me with regret and distaste. Like a sort of poision, almost as if it had come out of my own lips. "I don't ask of you to stop." He continued. I cut him off. "That's smart of you to say. You know me. Congratulations. Would you like a sticker?" I grinned at him. The diabolical demeanor didn't scare him. It never did.
He moved his hand off my face, pulling my arm which contained the knife closer to his own neck, like he was begging for me to slit his throat right this second, right in the middle of a touching moment. Rude.
"Will you atleast do my death a little justice? And promise me something?" I frowned. Could I? And would I? Probably not, and I hadn't even heard his dying wish yet.
"Will you take the liberty of trying to-"
I was done with him. This was too much pain for me to absorb. I thrusted the knife into the back of his neck, while slowly twisting and sliding it up and down through his throat. Tears made their way down my face, into the creases of my lips.
Steven tried to speak, but it came out as a gurgled mess of blood and torture.

I collapsed onto my knees, holding his head in my hands, sobbing relentlessly.
I took a heavy but shaking breath, looking into his now dead but still so full of life eyes. My lips quivered, and I spoke his last words for him.

"Remember me."

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I COULD EITHER TELL YOU THE CONCEPT/PLOT OR YOU CAN GUESS FOR YOURSELF IDC ITS UP TO YOU REALLY BUT UH IF YOU WANT TO KNOW YOU CAN MESSAGE ME AND ILL TELL YOU BECAUSE WHY NOT AMIRITE???

just one more angst to finish ;-;.

-Cym