Eryn.
I shakily dropped a silver injection over the sink at the sound of a large thud. I turned around and gasped, watching Chris clutch his chest and hoarsely mouth Lance's name.
My eyes widened, immediately driving pulling out of the garage. Chris hurled the passenger's door shut and dialed up Lance.
The phone rang once, then going silent. "Fuck!" I flinched as Chris slammed his hand down on the dashboard. It took us longer to head to the beach than I would've guessed. Every second that passed was agony.
Chris didn't wait for me to park the car once we saw Lance's white jeep at the beginning of the boardwalk. We approached the small beach and noticed a figure on the ground, the area around it bloodied.
Chris grunted, falling to his knees and dragging what was left of Lance's body off the sand. He clutched Lance to his chest and brushed the sand off his body. His arm from the shoulder down was barely recognizable, the most grotesque part being that it was being held onto by a singular sliver of muscle. I scanned his chest and saw bubbled and charred skin around large two holes in his chest. The other hole was in his shoulder, exposing the bone of his shoulder.
I moaned, my eyes tearing up. I tore my gaze away and closed my eyes tightly as Chris's wails were being drowned out by the crashing of the waves.
The absence of Marina and her friends was something that attached to the forefront of my thoughts. Agony and rage course through my veins, spreading to my chest. I felt like I couldn't breathe, it was as if someone's hand was squeezing it, trying to stop it from being.
The water lapped at my ankles. the waves sizzling out just before it could reach me.
I started to hop into the water, the waves pushing me back. My stance was balanced, keeping me from moving. The cold water hitting against my chest and neck was nothing compared to the numbness of my body. It was as if my body was healing my emotional pain, pressing it down into my gut.
I was doing a self-cleanse, involuntarily burning away the last slivers of my humanity.
***
On my way out, a dark three-pronged staff washed up in front of me. I bent down and wrapped my fingers around the metal, ignoring the burning sensation making its way up my palm. I didn't feel the anguish of realizing that it was the weapon that slaughtered Lance.
Chris didn't say a word as I tossed it into the trunk unceremoniously. He eased Lance's corpse in the backseat of his car. "Would you mind driving his-- the jeep back? I had his spares." He reached into his compartment in-between the drivers and passenger seat.
I wordlessly grabbed the keys he handed to me.
"Might be a bit, I left some loose ends that I should tie up," I called, my voice not quite feeling like my own.
Nothing felt quite like my own.
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