EARTHBOUND ↠ BELLAMY BLAKE ✔️ [OLD VERSION]

5| SHOCK

     Gradually, Elektra's vision came back to her. But, instead of the metal building, with the red and yellow wires, the grey and silver walls, the red and white curtains leading outside, she saw only white. It was blinding, painful, and uncomfortable. Whatever happened, however hard she had hit her head when she collapsed, it must have affected the sight in some way. At least that is what she assumed before it began to fade away. The white light was replaced by dull and dark colours.

     Moments ago, where the white light had been, she now suddenly stood in the middle of the woods. But she didn't recognise where. No matter where her eyes landed, no matter how far she walked trying to find out where she was, it remained the same. As if she was in a loop.

     The sound of birds chirping, the wind brushing through the trees, and twigs being stepped on, made her heart race.

     What the hell was happening? She thought to herself, trying to make sense of it all. Was this the punishment for what happened at the bridge?

     Elektra glanced down to her hands, just as she brought them up to rub against her face in annoyance and worry.

     When she lifted them up, they felt sticky, stiff, and warm. Warmer than usual.

     Her hands were covered in fresh, warm, dripping blood.

     In a panic, she looked down at her clothes, only to see that they were covered in the unsettling colour of blood.

     Something glinted on the floor, in the light of the moon that hung above the gap in the trees in the clearing.

     On the floor, in front of her, was a gun.

     Bellamy's gun.

     "This is all your fault."

     She looked up to see Anya standing there.

     Elektra felt relief when she saw her, but that feeling was soon ripped away.

     Anya's chest was pouring out blood, rapidly.

     "Too blinded by love to see that it will get you, and everyone else, killed."

     Elektra shook her head, not understanding. "No. Anya, please. What—?" She blinked, feeling the tears drip down her cheeks, when she opened her eyes, Anya was gone.

     Instead, she was now standing next to Elektra, facing her. "This is your fault. You killed your own people. But, for what? For someone who only sees you as the enemy? Why couldn't you just love your own kind," she spoke with venom in her voice before softening her tone, brushing the hair from the side of Elektra's face, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Anya shook her head, her own lips trembling as she turned Elektra to face her. Anya cupped her cheeks and leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Elektra's. "Are we not enough for you," she whispered, as Elektra closed her eyes, feeling the tears still rolling down her cheeks.

     She sounded broken.

     She sounded lost.

     She sounded exhausted.

     Anya moved away from Elektra.

     When Elektra opened her eyes again, reaching out to touch Anya she was met with an empty space. Anya's name was on the tip of her tongue, and before she spoke it, she heard Anya behind her,

     "Well?"

     She turned to face Anya again. "Anya—" She paused, noticing that her unit leader wasn't wearing her normal clothes anymore, but instead, she wore muddy black jeans, unlaced combat boots that weren't hers. Along her chest was a stained bandeau, faded from a white to a grey, and a leather jacket. Her hair was knotted, down past her shoulders with pieces of dried mud clumped together. Her face no longer had the black war paint from before but was instead scrubbed clean until it bled, with speckles of mud and dried blood across her jaw and cheek.