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❝ nightmareswere created just to scare us ❞
°.✩┈┈∘*┈˃̶୨୧˂̶┈*∘┈┈✩.°
Dark drops of blood had formed an uneven pattern in the white marble floor, sparkling beautifully yet darkly. The last opera piece played like a lullaby between the thick walls, covered by the most beautiful of art ever created. Everything seemed surreal. It was a nightmare. Yes, that's what it was, a nightmare. A dark nightmare everyone knew would come, but simultaneously refused to accept. The dark truth.
He followed the tracks with clumsy steps and tears burning him behind his eyes. With every passing second, it became harder to breathe— the pressure over his heart being so big that it caused his body to go completely numb.
It wasn't supposed to end like this.
It wasn't what he wanted.
He couldn't recall ever being this scared.
Even his darkest nightmares were nothing compared to this.
Their plan had up until now seemed flawless, everything had gone exactly as it should've. He'd almost tasted the freedom that had been waiting for them at the end of the dark tunnel of fate. But something went wrong, horrible wrong. He didn't know what it was yet, but he would go to the bottom with it as soon as he found her. He had almost smiled at them, something he had never done before despite all months that had passed, all months they spent together. He'd almost been hopeful as he'd been standing in the middle of the gunfire that turned the beautiful place into a war field.
The air suddenly went out of him.
He saw her.
She had collapsed in front of the large painting, the one they stood and admired earlier in the evening. It took him a couple of seconds before he realized that it wasn't her red silk scarf lying around her, but her blood. The horrible, dark, red colour ran down her body and out over the beautiful white marble floor.
He heard someone scream as he fell to his knees next to her in all the thick blood. And when he heard the same heartbreaking sound just moments later, he realized that it was but himself who gave away the horrible sound. Tears ran down his face so fast that it became difficult to see. But he still managed to see the outline of her broken, but yet pretty face, and gently grasped it. She was as cold as ice. As he held her small body in his arms, he lay down in the blood that was still spreading across the marble floor. He pressed his face into her neck and cried until he heard rapid steps approaching.
