Chapter Text
"Are you still in this with me, Eri- Reb?
Your back was stiff against the rigged bookshelf and your legs were strictly stretched out, your face tried to hold a mask of coldness but I could see your hesitancy ; the way your lips pursed together like you were holding back a harsh secret, the way your finger tapped against Arlene - maybe it could pass off as impatience.
My own hand trembled lightly against the tec-9, but I didn’t want to focus on it. I only wanted to focus on you, to memorise every last detail of you with the little time I had left ; eyes locked on the way your fingers looked short in contrast to my wonky ones, observing how your shirt slightly clung to the minimal deformity of your chest.
And when your green irises shifted along with your pupil to move your eye sight to me, I could feel your vision burning into me just like the 12 gauge bullets that had shot through the school just minutes before.
“Cmon Vodka.” You spoke, and our eyes locked. I could feel every memory shifting through my mind, right back to our first meeting in 7th grade when you were just a stranger to this shitty little Colorado town. Now you’d forever be imprinted in the history of this place - right by my side.
I gave you a nod, like always I followed your command ; for the final time I will allow you to feel an assertion of dominance, being your stepping stool of comfort to help you feel the power amongst all the zombies who’d constantly knock you down to weakness. I dropped to my knees lightly, cricketing against the cold floor with a sore pain and bruises that will never form.
And again, your eyes shifted to the weapon as you lifted it up to your mouth. I could see every shake of your hand, my own hand shook in unison as I brought my pistol up to my left temple.
And our eyes locked. “Let’s do it Dylan - we can count together.” ; To hear my name on your tongue made me sick, I could hardly bear to know this would be the last time I’d be hearing those two syllables on your tongue.
“Alright Eric, take the lead.” I huffed with a shaky breath, eyes shut tight as our voices began in delayed unison - just like all those times we sang along to every song we liked.
1….!
2….!
3….!
Eric’s torso twisted down along the bookshelf as his body slouched down, sharp features becoming almost unrecognisable with lacerations that blast through his cranium, coating the books in the crimson metallic droplets that leaked from his head.
And almost instantly, Dylan’s figure had dropped too as his body roughly smacked onto its side before his weight pulled him onto his back with his legs sprawled out.
But for him death hadn’t been as simple as it came for Eric.
Consciousness had left him, yet the pulsations of his heart remained longer than should’ve been offered with death ; his lungs became intoxicated with the suffocation of the crimson liquid that coursed through his veins as his body instinctively choked and gurgled.
Despite such passion and desire to leave this life, once again he had been involuntarily forced to suffer.
However, one thing was the same for them. When you die, the last seven minutes of your brain’s function are a bittersweet flashback to the best moment(s) of your life — and for both Eric and Dylan, the same memory had wrapped itself around them.
April 18 1999 ; the day after prom .