BANG.
She looked down at her torso. Her hand slowly rose, pressing against her side. It came away slick and red.
BANG. BANG.
She felt her ribs splinter. Her stomach burned. Blood poured from her wounds.
Her eyes widened in panic. She looked up at the one who had shot her.
It was the Commander.
"—But… why?"
He stood frozen, his handgun still trained on her.
His eyes were filled with hatred.
She turned her head toward her friend, Stella.
She was being restrained by soldiers clad in black uniforms.
"YOU BASTARD, YOU BACKSTABBING PIECE OF SH#T. I TRUSTED YOU. I THOUGHT YOU LOVED HER!"
He didn't answer. His arm trembled violently. Blood streamed from his nose. His eyes were bloodshot.
His teeth were clenched tight. He gripped the gun so hard his nails split, blood seeping down his fingers. Foam gathered at the corner of his mouth. He gagged, choking—trying to force out any sound at all.
"I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS, INCARCERATUS. DO YOU HEAR ME?!"
Stella struggled against the soldiers, but it was useless. They forced her to the ground and snapped handcuffs around her wrists.
"GET OFF ME! THIS PIECE OF SH#T DESERVES TO DIE FOR WHAT HE'S DONE TO JEANNE. DIE, YOU BAST#RD—DIEEE!!"
One of the men in black struck her hard.
She went limp.
They turned their attention back to the Commander.
"I thought you were one of the best shots we had, Commander," the leader sneered mockingly.
"But you missed her head. Not once. Not twice. But three times?!" He struck him across the face.
The Commander didn't move. He remained locked in place, frozen in the same stance, wearing the same empty expression.
"Ah… I see. You're trying to resist it, aren't you? You're only going to fry your brain and die from it eventually. Just submit and end her already. Or I will."
The Commander stayed silent. His eyes followed the man with pure hatred, with murderous intent, never letting him leave his sight.
"Well then… I suppose I'll handle it myself."
He stepped closer to the wounded girl. She was slumped on the ground, one hand pressed against her stomach. She looked up at him, the light fading from her eyes. It was only a matter of time before the bleeding claimed her.
The man in black drew his gun, advancing toward her slowly—calm, assured.
"I'll give you a quick death," he said, turning back to mock the Commander once more. "Unlike him." He chuckled.
"Ironic, isn't it? Loving you so much, yet still pulling the trigger. You must hate him for that."
Her gaze drifted back to the Commander—his face twisted with rage, hatred, and something else entirely.
Fear.
Despair.
Her vision blurred as the gun was raised to her head. She knew this was the end.
"I never got to tell you how much I loved you… Daniel."
The last thing she saw was the face of the man she loved. His eyes softened. Crimson tears welled and spilled down his cheeks, dripping onto the floor. He was crying blood—for her.
Her vision collapsed inward. Darkness swallowed everything.
Bang.