Arc 6, Chapter 25

The Shock

Victor muffled his own screams with his hands, digging his nails into the side of his face.

He couldn't believe it. He couldn't.

The room slowly cleared, Asher’s men falling into a line. Umbra was grabbed by the arms and dragged across the floor. Victor practically held his breath until the coast was clear. Umbra left bloody streaks on the concrete. He didn't move. It was like he had no idea he was being drug. Victor wasn't even sure if he was breathing.

Victor counted to fifty, just to make sure he was truly alone. He pulled Umbra's shirt closer around his trembling body, taking in his smell.

Victor allowed himself a pitiful squeak, throat tightening with the effort of holding in the storm brewing inside of him. He slowly rocked back and forth, hugging his knees as if they would give him comfort. His head was buzzing.

Finally, like water bursting through a dam, a sob broke through Victor's fragile layer of control. He started to bawl, tears pouring down his cheeks.

The thick smell of blood hung around his nostrils as a solemn reminder of the events that had just transpired. He could barely process it all. It was too much.

Victor squeezed his eyes shut, but the image of a blade sinking through Umbra’s eyesocket was burned into his mind. Memories flashed by, soaked in red.

Victor wasn't sure if Umbra was dead or alive. Had he just witnessed the murder of his father? The thought drove Victor deeper into hysterics.

As far as Victor's senses stretched, he had no surroundings. Everything was a blur. The only noise was the ringing in his ears and his desperate heaves for breath. Time froze, or perhaps it sped up.

Umbra had been defeated. He wasn't invincible. He could be dead. Victor didn't know what to do without his familiar. He needed him.

He had to have him.

----

Pilate peeked his head around the door of the security room, heart pounding nervously in his chest.

A scene of utter horror met his eyes. Blood was splattered across the floor in thick puddles, and the remnants of corpses were scattered about. It was clear there had been a struggle.

Was Asher alright? Pilate hoped he hadn't been injured. If he had, Pilate didn't have a home to go to.

Cautiously, Pilate crept across the room, approaching a stack of boxes. He tugged at the tattered frays of his sweater, his fingers stopping dead when he saw what was amidst the boxes.

Victor laid motionless on the floor, curled in a tight ball. His eyes were red from crying, and his cheeks were still wet. He stared blankly at the wall, lip trembling.

“Victor?” Pilate asked softly, touching him on the shoulder. Victor didn't respond.

“Victor, come on,” Pilate murmured, concern leaking into his voice. Gently, he wrapped Victor in a hug, squeezing his friend around the chest. He lingered in his embrace, but Victor remained unresponsive, his head lolling onto Pilate’s shoulder.

Pilate drapped Victor's arm over his shoulder, lifting him to his feet. Victor uttered a low moan, but his blank, shell-shocked stare didn't waver.

“Everything's gonna be okay,” Pilate whimpered, trying to rouse Victor, “I'm gonna get you somewhere safe, okay?”

Author's Note- oops, i broke victor

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