I've Failed (a Gameknight999 Fanfiction)

Chapter 13

TOMMY'S POV:

"Someone call 911!"

Those were the last words I heard clearly. Everything after that was a blur. I don't remember how long I kneeled next to Bryne, but it felt like years. Sam had called the ambulance, but she mentioned something about it being late due to a lot of different fatal injuries that people have been receiving. I yelled at her for it, and she said it wasn't her fault and personally, she thought that was a stupid excuse.

However, someone who was walking on the White House grounds found us and made an arrangement to get Bryne to the hospital ASAP. She was a bit confused if why we were there, but when she saw Bryne, she forgot all about that and immediately demanded an ambulance.

Right now, I'm in the hospital waiting room. Bryne was taken straight to the ER, but none of us were allowed to go in with her. The doctors had already called my mom and dad because I told them that she lived with us because she didn't have any parents. So now, all of us are sitting anxiously in the room, not saying anything to each other. It's a bit awkward, but none of us are in the mood to chat now.

Every single one of us was devastated, but I was the only one who had the courage (or nerve) to cry. Jenny, Tyler, Owen, Sam, and even Kelsea, who we had found later, were crowded around me.

"Shh..." Sam says, patting me on the head. "It'll be okay..."

"I should've gotten out of the way," I say, tears streaming down my face harder and faster than any rainstorm. "It's all my fault. I could've saved myself."

"You couldn't," Tyler says. "You wouldn't have gotten out of the way fast enough. Frankly, I was surprised Bryne was able to jump in front fast enough. Besides, even if you had escaped, you wouldn't have for long. Herobrine would have found out."

"Gee, thanks for making me feel better," I growl.

Tyler sighs. "Sorry."

"I hope she doesn't die," Jenny says in a small voice. "The bullet hit looked pretty fatal. And I don't know anyone who has survived getting shot!"

"Jenny... shut up!" Sam scolds, pointing at me.

Then, some lady comes out the door. I recognize her as Dr. Carson, the woman who was taking care of Bryne.

"Bryne is allowed one visitor," she says. "Who wants to go?"

I want to let one of the others go, but before I can, Sam says, "I think Tommy wants to."

I smile weakly (I really can't smile that big anymore) and stand up.

"Thanks, you guys," I say.

I follow Dr. Carson into Bryne's hospital room, and I'll tell you this- nothing is scarier than seeing your best friend, lying on a bed, unconscious, with a bunch of machines hooked up to them. The only thing that could make that feeling worse is knowing that it was the person who had been trying to kill you for over a year, the person you fear the most, who did this to them.

"Is she okay?" I blurt out because that's all I really want to know as of right now.

"We're not sure, Thomas," says Dr. Carson. "The bullet appeared to have lodged itself inside her chest. Unless we can somehow get it out, I say with regret that she will indeed die."

"Can you get it out?" I ask, my heart beating ten times faster than normal.

"I believe so," Dr. Carson says, "but it will take a long surgery and at least four weeks in the hospital for her to recover, along with a lot of physical therapy. It may be a month and a half before she fully recovers. And we're not sure how we're going to remove the bullet, but we've done this with other various objects, and we may have to cut her chest open to get it out."

I want to say, You are trying to SAVE her life, RIGHT? Because seriously, that sounds like something a person would try to do to kill someone.

"You'll seal it back up, right?" I ask cautiously, taking a small step back from Dr. Carson.

Dr. Carson almost laughs. "Oh, honey, we won't hurt her! She'll be asleep, we'll put her under for it. And of course, we'll seal the cut up, she'll just have a scar across her chest."

I look over at Bryne. She's still breathing, but it's slowing down. And by the way her face is creased, I can tell she's really hurt.

"I want to be with her," I say firmly. "During the surgery. I want to know she'll be okay."

Dr. Carson looks uncertain, but when she sees the sadness in my face, she says, "okay. You can stay with her. Just I wouldn't look at her if you're queasy with bloodshed."

A tear slides down my cheek. "Thank you," I whisper. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome-" Dr. Carson begins, but suddenly, the channel that was on the TV switches.

I gasp.

"THAT'S HIM!" I scream. "THAT'S THE GUY WHO SHOT HER!"

Yes, I'm serious- Herobrine is on TV, right next to President Robbins, who doesn't look alive.

Dr. Carson and I stare at each other, looking horrified. There's no way Robbins is dead.

"This darn thing better be recording," Herobrine growls. "Otherwise I'll break it against the wall. Well, in any case, hello America. This is Herobrine, recording to you live from the White House. Some of you may know me, some of you may not. But I don't care whether you know who I am or not. What you DO need to know is that I am the one who has killed every single guard in the White House, along with Ella Turner and Vice President Gary Steele. And now I have killed your precious President Robbins. Now, I rule America."

Someone in the background, probably someone Herobrine spared to show on television, yells, "that's not how it works! Google it!"

"SHUT UP!" Herobrine screams, pulling out his gun and shooting whoever it was. "Anyway, you now all have to listen to me. I have already gotten rid of Congress. There is nobody who can tell me what to do anymore. Now, all of you must listen to me and do as I say and support me. Anyone, man, woman, or child, who tries to defy me will be slaughtered along with their entire family.

"Since I'm on TV, I might as well tell you my new rules for America. For one thing, all of the prisoners in any jail who have been convicted of robbing, rioting, or killing- and I will say I am rather fond of murderers, since I am one myself- will be set free, and all police officers will either be locked up or killed. Also, I do have a friend out there- Entity303, if you're out there, watching this, I need your help. I need you to run the White House for me. I'm far too busy to run a building this size. I will leave a list of rules for you in my office, which you can customize at your will.

"Now, I have one thing for you all- any current employees of the White House- well, that is still alive that is- you are going to help me with something. I want you to build a gigantic wall around Brooklyn, NY. That is going to be what I looked up and saw was called a concentration camp. Any current residents of Brooklyn must go there. Also, demolish all houses and build new, awful houses. And if you aren't in Brooklyn at the moment and think you can get away with not going, you are wrong. I know where each and every one of you is, and if you aren't at home in two days when the wall is starting to be built, I will track you down and kill you. Don't think I won't. I'm not the type to give up on threats.

"I do have a special message. Gameknight999, wherever you are, I know you survived. That wasn't my fault, it was your little girlfriend's fault for blocking you. And if you're excited that she might survive, she won't for long, and neither will you. I am guarding the Thunderbolt Camp, so I can have you under my watch all day, every day. Once you're there, there is not one thing you can do without me seeing. If you think you will be able to stop me, if you think you can escape from me, you're going to be really disappointed. There is nothing you can do. You can't save your friends, let alone your own pitiful life. I'm going to enjoy tormenting you every second of your life. So, young Gameknight, and along with the rest of this idiotic country, it is happening. The remake of WW2 is finally here. Okay, world, get ready for your worst nightmare."