The metallic scent of blood drowned out El’s senses, his clothes stained red and sticking to his body because of it. He didn’t understand, he couldn’t understand, what happened? What the fuck happened?! The world spun and he leaned over to vomit, gagging out bile and hissing as it burned his throat.
“El! C’mon! We gotta move!” you whispered harshly beside him, glancing over your shoulder.
Sweat and tears mixed with the rust of flaking blood on your face, and he frowned, gritting his teeth before stumbling forward after you. After a couple steps his stride hit him and he was running ahead, checking for unknown danger. He at least knew what lay behind the two of you.
“What happened to them?” you asked breathlessly, probably for the fourth time now.
You weren’t necessarily asking him, he knew it. It was just like him constantly asking the question in his head, the words running in an obsessive loop until they finally needed to be spoken again.
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“I don’t know… I don’t know,” he mumbled, and though he felt his muscles tremble both from exhaustion and fear, he kept himself under control as much as possible. “It was almost like they were mad… They ate… the others….”
Speaking the words aloud made it so real. Made it unable to be refuted, even though the blood that soaked his skin should have made it just as inescapable. He had killed so many of what he thought were his allies. But allies didn’t devour the flesh of their teammates. They didn’t… eat them like starved animals.
He shuddered, remembering the conscious look in their eyes, but the insanity that seemed to grip their gazes. The froth that bubbled out of their mouths as it mixed with the fluids of his counterparts he had come to rely on in the last few days. He hated them; he hated these new people who they’d taken in only to be screwed over. At last, his fear gave over to unadulterated rage, frustration, and grief for those who he’d grown loyal to in such a short amount of time.
It seemed as if losing your identity, and being thrown in the middle of war, it seemed friendships and enemies were rather easy to make in the chaos and frenetic energy. He didn’t have time to dally, he made gut decisions, he just wished… he hadn’t eaten that food first. He wished he had gone to see the newcomers immediately, maybe then… Maybe he could have saved the others then.
“El… up ahead,” you said, and his dark eyes followed your pointing finger.
-End Report