He Was Dying

Chapter Fifteen

I didn't want to look him in the eyes. I remained on the floor, arm wrapped around my slashed-open stomach. Bryce practically jumped down the stairs, rushing towards me, collapsing to his knees beside me. The others ran down, confused and terrified as to what was going on. Evan and Craig lifted up the fallen cabinet, pushing it away from me. "What happened, Ohm?" Bryce said, fear causing his voice to shake. I shouldn't've made so much noise, I didn't want him to worry so much.

"W-Wraith," I stuttered out, a metallic taste invading my mouth. "D-don't worry.. Don't worry about me. Y-you'll still be able to g-get out of here."

Bryce huffed, a lock of hair flying from away from his face. "Too bad. I worry." He turned to the others. "Does anyone have a med-kit?"

Nogla shrugged. "Yeah, but I wanna save it for an emergency." Craig smacked the Irishman across the head. "This is an emergency, you dumbass! Go get it!" Nogla, dazed slightly from the hit, then went upstairs back to the balcony where he left the kit.

Bryce hovered over me, hands on each side of my face. "You're going to be fine, Ohm, trust me. Stay awake. We believe in you."

Smitty grabbed the med-kit from Nogla's hand when he returned, saying he knows what he's doing. He then pulled off his white sweatshirt, a black tee underneath. As he kneeled down beside me, I pulled my own sweater over my head. I clutched the fabric in my hands, my heart shattering at the sight of the massive gash that tore through the middle of it, ripping the logo on it in two. My body tensed as Smitty's hands felt the wound. "It's bad, guys," he mumbled. "It's really deep."

"Can we do anything about it?"

He went silent. "Hand me a needle and thread from the kit. I'm gonna need to do some stitches." Delirious rummaged through the box carefully, pushing aside rolls of bandage and bottles of medicines and rubbing alcohol. He pulled out a silver needle and a spool of surgical string.

- - -

My head fell back against the cold wood of the cabin wall. My muscles tensed as I bit down on the sweater Delirious once again let me borrow. Pain surged along my nerves as Smitty worked on the stitches, Bryce grabbing onto my forearm for support. "You're doing great, Ohm, just a few more minutes." The others stood around, providing encouragement to my surgeon, I suppose, and I.

Suddenly, I felt numb. I fell limp, Bryce immediately noticing. "Ohm?" Smitty looked up from his work. "Is he okay?"

The ceiling became blurred, I was unable to see the dusty planks or the rusted nails. I couldn't tell anyone apart from each other, didn't know if I saw Luke or Evan. They both wore red, that's all I knew. A hand waved in front of my eyes, and I turned to Bryce. I couldn't see him. The magnificent blue that were his eyes became bleary. I felt my ears fall back against my head.

Smitty had stopped, and Bryce ordered him to continue. "Omega, listen to me. Stay with us." I couldn't. My eyelids felt like bricks, and they were forced shut.

I didn't see any of it, but I could hear it. Feel it. Craig had dropped down beside Smitty to disinfect the wound and help patch it up. Delirious checked my heartbeat, shouting at Bryce to get a hold of himself, that I'm not dead. Nogla, Luke and Evan worked on calming him down, getting him outside or upstairs to get him some fresh air.

My mind was busy. Thoughts flooded through, bouncing around off the sides of my skull, ricocheting off of each other. Buzzing filled my ears. I could hear my blood rushing throughout my body, so loud it drowned out the chaos going on around me. Until silence surrounded me.

- - -

Wind howled past the doorways and windows. My chest, although nothing was on it, felt heavy. Slowly, my eyes opened. The dull, lifeless wood of the cabin ceiling lingered above me. I sat up, a rippling pain emitting from my stomach. Around me, everything seemed normal. The collapsed staircase. The dusty floor. The piles of loose planks torn from the walls and floorboards. It was dark, moonlight flooding through the cracks in the roofing. A worn blanket was laid out beside me, a figure curled beneath it.

Bryce slept, his chest raising and dropping steadily. His hair created a canopy over his face. I ran a hand over his shoulder in a comforting manner, not expecting his mouth to alter into a smile.

I stood, my legs weak and sore. Up the stairs and looking out to the balcony, I could see many of them asleep under torn up blankets and sweaters. Two people were awake, staring out past the railing out into the yard. Their voices were low in a conversation, careful not to wake the others. From what I could tell, it was Delirious and Luke. Delirious' head was against his shoulder, and Luke had his arm around him.

Walking back to where Bryce was, I sat down beside him, softly placing my hand on his head. I leaned against the wall, looking down at my stomach. Black wire threaded tightly through my grey skin, the edges of the wound still red with dried blood. I sighed.

Footsteps tapped against the staircase. I glanced over, and saw Smitty walking down with a small bottle and roll of bandage in hand. His eyes widened when he saw me, and he motioned me towards him. I stood, approaching him.

"You're awake!" Smitty cheered quietly, a smile bright against his face. "I just came down to check on you and Bryce." He looked past me. "He still asleep?" I nodded.

I sat on the stairs as he cleaned up the cut, wrapping the bandage around my torso. "You alright?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think, Omega? You got your stomach torn open, passed out unconscious, and you just woke up from all that topsy-turviness. Like, are you doing okay? How you feeling?"

I paused. "Hurt. Confused. Really pissed at Wraith at the moment, but that's probably a mutual feeling. Glad everyone's okay. Glad I'm okay. No one's dead."

"Hopefully," Smitty muttered darkly, tearing the bandage and tucking the rest of the roll into his pocket. I flashed a bewildered gaze at him. He sighed, apologizing glumly. "We still haven't heard from two of our friends who went searching in another yard. The one with that rundown asylum. The rest of us have been planning to go on a rescue mission."

"When?"

He went silent. "Soon. Maybe in a few days. Maybe tomorrow. Hell, they could be planning to wake up in an hour, use the darkness as an advantage. But we're not leaving without them, no way."