Did I Kill Him? | A Hermitcraft Murder Mystery ~ ON HIATUS

Chapter 5

I'm going to stop putting trigger warnings at the beginning of the chapter because, honestly, you know what you signed up for when you started reading this. And if you don't, well, there's lots of death, gore, mentions of suicide, and censored swearing. If something else comes up, I'll warn you.

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Tango POV

The lights are too bright, even though it's just candlelight. The world is spinning around me. The floor is not connected to the walls and the walls are not connected to the roof. People are yelling, fighting over who killed our husband. My ears are ringing. The air seems to be pressing on me. I lose the feeling of Zedaph's hand in mine to the onslaught of sights, sounds, and smells. The facts of my revelation weigh down on me. I have to get out.

I stand up and mutter something about needing fresh air. Zedaph looks at me with concern as I leave the room.

As soon as I get outside, I start sprinting.

My feet pound on the ground, muffled by soft leaves. I don't think about it. I don't pay attention to where I'm going. I just run. I have to get away from here. They can't know what I did.

My vision focuses. The forest looms over me, the tightly packed trees almost threatening.

The woods. Perfect.

I weave between the grey trunks, tripping on exposed roots and rocks. Outstretched branches tangle in my hair and grab at my clothes like gnarly fingers. The thick canopy blocks the sun, darkening the scene to a starless night.

I stumble over a fallen tree rotting on my path. Beetles and grasshoppers scuttle out from under my clumsy feet. I break through a giant spider web. The thin strings cover my eyes and mouth and tickle my nose.

I pick directions randomly, following deer trails for a short time, before turning off of it in favor of a thicker patch of trees.

I can't stop. I can't let the memories catch up to me. I can't face what I did.

My lungs are burning and my legs ache for a chance to rest. I can't help but stop as my body wastes a moment desperately trying to regain my breath.

Chest heaving, I scan my surroundings, trying to get my bearings. Sunlight filters through the heavy canopy in some spots, casting a dark green light over the ground. A few feet away, a fallen tree rots beneath it's living counterparts. A broken spiderweb swings from a tree, it's ghost-like strands gleaming in the dim light. A raven perched on a branch looks down at me with cold, black eyes, disgusted by my humanity.

An open meadow nearby breaks the repetitive sight of endless trees. Flowers dot the dull green grass, their little spots of bright color standing out in my vision.

Cautiously, I step into the clearing. A well-maintained garden stretches out of my view and the mansion looms over me, overshadowing anything else.

I had somehow managed to run in a full circle, ending right back here. I stumble back as memories flood into my brain.

Impulse died at that mansion. And it was my fault. I made him commit suicide. I threw a glass at his head.

I support myself against a tree and shake my head, trying to clear the thoughts and emotions crowding for attention. I stumble backward, towards the woods, trying to run away again, but I run into something soft.

Before I can turn around and see what it is, it grabs me and shoves my face harshly into a tree. The rough bark presses against my eyelids. I can't move my head without scratching something or injuring myself.

"Where are you going in such a hurry, Tango?" they sing, their voice clearly pitched lower in disguise.

I stutter as my mind races for an answer. In the end, I settle for a half-truth.

"I found out who killed Impulse!" I burst out. "And I'm- I'm trying to get to a police station."

The words are painful to say. I don't want to use Impulse's death as something just to get me out of trouble. But right now, self-preservation is all that matters.

"Well, I guess that helps ease my conscious for what I'm about to do."

"W- what!? Why?"

"Because I killed him, you idiot."

I let out a choked sound, halfway between a scream and a sob. Excruciating pain lances through my body. I press my hand to my stomach and find it drenched in blood. I look down to see a knife poking out of my stomach, the silver contrasting with the growing red stain. My heart pounds in my ears as if begging for me to do something, anything, to save it.

I can only stand there, numbly, as the life drains out of me.

A mix of jubilation and sorrow eclipses all other feelings. I let out a strange combination of a laugh and a cry at the thought of rejoining Impulse but leaving Zedaph behind, forever.

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Disclaimer: I have never died and I don't know what it feels like. This is just my artistic interpretation of it.

865 words