Nightingale - Dreamnotfound

||Post-Apocalyptic America||

TW: blood and death
(I'm new at trigger warnings plz lmk whenever I do smthng wrong :))
—
Everyone thought the end of the world would be after the nuclear apocalypse, but it turned out to only be the beginning of a new era. One that I was unfortunate enough to grow up in. Sometimes I wished I got to know what it was like to see the blue sky or green grass.

I only had the faintest memory of it. It was of me and my older sister. I had to have been five or six, and she was seven or eight. It had been when rain was still of low toxicity and safe to run around in. I remember it had been raining for days, and when it finally stopped, me and my sister ran out into the lawn and played in the grass. It was still dewey and wet. I had since forgotten what exactly we did, but the feeling still stuck. It had been the happiest I had ever been.

And then, of course, the years passed by and Russia finally snapped and bombed us into oblivion, only leaving behind a couple hundred million of us in America with no government. But we all knew that story.

Blood used to scare me when I was younger. It used to trigger back old memories whenever I saw it. Maybe that was why the memory of me and my sister playing in the dewey grass was held so near and dear to my heart; it was a better memory to replay than the last one I had of her.

Of course, I eventually got over it. It turned out my sister was not going to be the last person I'd see shed blood. There was no point in dwelling on it.

"Let's burn him," Sapnap said with a sinister grin. A lighter was already lit in his hand.

"We burnt the last guy," I replied, taking the lighter from his hand. "Let's just shoot him. I'm tired."

Sapnap rolled his eyes. "Fine. Go for it."

I pulled the gun out from my belt and pushed open the door stood before us. Inside was today's case. I think his name was Phil, but I had barely looked at the file. He was laying down on the broken cot that held so many people before him, and he lifted his head as the door squeaked open. He pushed himself up to his feet.

"Listen, you got the wrong guy. I didn't do anything wrong," The guy said.

"The amount of times I've heard that statement. I'm sick of hearing those same last words," I sighed as I made sure my gun was loaded. "There are about a hundred other people who had the same last words, so I'll let you change them."

His eyes widened. "You have to believe me. I didn't do anything. Please, just let me go home. I won't leave the house ever again."

I looked to Sapnap, who was close behind me, and he shook his head.

I turned back to the guy, and he had his arms up in a surrender stance. "Sorry, man. We're just doing our job, okay? Go ahead and say your last words. Make them good." I pointed my gun up to his head.

His eyes were stricken wide. His entire body trembled as he took a step back. I could tell he had something to say. His mouth was open despite no words coming out. My patience was beginning to run thin.

"Come on!" I snapped, and he flinched.

"I-I—" He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for you."

My finger on the trigger didn't move as I stared up at the man. "What—?"

Bang. Ear splitting ringing screamed through my head as my gun fell to the ground at the same time as the guy. Familiar crimson liquid began running through the wooden floorboards and between the crevices. I whipped around to see Sapnap spinning his gun around his finger.

"What the fuck, Sapnap?" I yelled, covering my ears as I walked past him and out the door. I walked down the broken down hallway, turning left and right and up the stairs until we got to our floor. My hearing didn't come back until we were back at our room. I pushed the door open and sat down on my cot.