Knifepoint (A Life Series murder mystery AU)

14• The Final Countdown

  How many were left? How many of them had been taken? Jimmy had lost count. He closed his eyes and tried to think.

  Scott, himself, Grian, Scar, Etho... Was that it? Jimmy ran it over in his head. No, Impulse was still there, even though none of them had heard from him...

  Jimmy stood up and glanced at Scott. He was on his bed, tracing the lines in the ceiling. He didn't even look at Jimmy as he left.

  The hallways were familiar. His footsteps echoed through the empty space. Jimmy missed the noise and the chaos of having his friends running through the halls, trying to get to the dinner table first. He missed the time when everyone was alive.

  In a normal game, this far in, there would be chaos, bloodshed, to be the last man standing. Jimmy, being the canary, had never seen the finale.

  He poked his head into Impulse's bedroom. "Hey, Impulse? I was wondering what-"

  He paused. What he saw...

  His hand fell limply to his side. His eyes widened. He couldn't look away, couldn't scream, couldn't run. He felt paralysed.

  Jimmy took one step closer, as though he was being moved by a mysterious force. His eyes drifted to Impulse's hand, where a small piece of paper was clutched.

  He carefully pried his friend's fingers open, shuddering as he did so. How on Earth did any of his friends stand it?

  Jimmy thought of Scott, carrying his body to his grave, carefully pulling the arrow out of his cold neck. How did he do it?

  Jimmy unfolded the paper. In a neat and swirling handwriting, a small line of text was written.

  I'm sorry.

  Jimmy paused and reread it. Something was wrong. This wasn't Impulse's handwriting. Jimmy had seen it during his time at the Southlands.

  It was a handwriting he hadn't seen in a long time. It was a handwriting that had gracefully written out 'this feels right'.

  It was Scott's.

  As the realisation dawned over him, he heard Grian's voice. "TIM!" Jimmy was running. His footsteps were heavy thuds against the floor. In every step, he could hear the bodies falling.

  He reached the living room, out of breath. "Wh..." He froze. "Petal?"

  Scott stood with his back to Jimmy. He breathed heavily, like a wild animal. "You weren't supposed to see it."

  Jimmy didn't know what to do. He looked down, and was met with a glassy pair of green eyes. Scar.

  Jimmy took a step back, bumping into something on the floor. Terrified, he looked back at what he bumped into.

  Etho, slumped against the wall, a knife in his throat. "What did you do?" Jimmy's voice was weak as he spoke. Scott moved, shifting away from what  he was hiding.

  "Grian!" Jimmy looked Scott in the eye. "You did this."

  "Jimmy..."

  Tears filled Jimmy's eyes. "You... you did this..." Scott advanced towards Jimmy, knife in hand. Jimmy backed up against the wall. "Don't come closer."

  Scott didn't listen.

  Farther and farther they went, as though in some maniac dance. Scott was coming closer and closer.

  What a way to die, at your lover's hands... Jimmy wondered whether Scott would care. Would he shed tears? Would he regret it? Or would he turn away as heartlessly as he did for his friends?

  It made him wonder, did Scott feel empathy? Did he cry for the lives he took?

  Jimmy hit a surface. The wall. His breathing wasn't steady. "Scott..." Scott's eyes held no recognition.

  In one swift move, the knife was at Jimmy's throat. "Scott... Please..." Jimmy looked into Scott's eyes. Blue, shining and deep. Like how they were when they first met.

  As Jimmy stared harder, he noticed tears in Scott's eyes. Drops of water that rolled down his cheek and hit the floor.

  "I never wanted to," he whispered. Scott let out a hollow laugh. "They made me. They whispered in my ears and consumed every waking moment."

  Scott pushed the knife further. It was pressed hard enough to hurt, but not enough to cut skin. "I loved you," muttered Jimmy, "I trusted you."

  Scott shook his head. "I know. I'm sorry." Scott held the knife steady. The tears flowed faster.

  "I can't kill you, dang it. Why can't I kill you? I tried to, you know, but I couldn't. The knife... I could bring myself to put it through your throat... so I put it through your arm..."

  "Snap out of it, Scott! This isn't you! Give me my old Scott back. Give me my Petal back."

  Fear. They say animals could smell fear. Scott certainly could. Scott could see it in every tensed muscle of Jimmy's body, in every year he held back.

  "We were always the unlucky ones," whispered Scott.

  With that, he drove the knife in. Jimmy choked on his blood, coughing it out as he sank to his knees.

  He landed with a thud onto the floor as Scott watched. He watched as his husband's brown eyes lost their light, and went glassy like the rest of his victims'.

  Scott was all alone. He stood in the room, surrounded by bodies. Bodies of his friends. Blood stained his hands as he looked up to the sky.

  "Are you happy now?"

  There was no answer. There would never be an answer. Scott knew it.

  He fell to his knees, right next to Jimmy. He took his body in his arms once more and cried. His whole body shook. He closed his eyes and begged for it to be a dream.

  Scott felt the weight in his arms disappear and opened his eyes to see whether it really was just a dream. But no. It wasn't. The universe isn't so kind. It was just the Watchers taking Jimmy away.

  Scott knew, somehow, that his friends would return to their normal lives, and he wouldn't, because no matter how it went, it would always be Scott who was chosen.

  "You've won."

  Scott turned around. A door appeared behind him, one that was never there before. It matched that of the bedrooms, but it had no number on it. Scott reached for the handle and turned it.

  This isn't real. This can't be real. I'm dead, aren't I? I'm dead...

  On the other side, were all his friends, waiting for him. They embraced him with open arms and told him it was alright, it was okay. They said they were ready to move on, that everything was fixed now.

  That's what he was told, that this was bliss. This was home.

-.- .. .-.. .-..

  Here lies Scott, beloved husband.

-.- .. .-.. .-..

Word count: 1100

So! I've finished it! It's really late lol, I'll put out the end note tomorrow, but yeah.

To everyone who guessed Scott, good job, you were right!

I had a really good time writing this and reading comments. Thank all of you for your support, and once again I'm sorry for having such gaps during chapters.

I love all of you and have a wonderful day/night!

<RubyBlueWrites left the game>