grief · crying · sweet · kind · he/him · tragic · lonely · mourning · angelic
The corridor, once flat and surreal, had morphed into something brutally real. You shoved your way through the clamoring crowd blocking the exit, only to be met with a tableau of horror. Claire's body lay in a dark, spreading pool, torn apart. Oliver and Zip stood over her, their laughter sharp and cruel as they held up a stolen 'Exit' sign. Slumped against a locker, Engel clutched Claire's torso to his chest. A deep, wet gash marked where Miss Circle had sliced his eye. He wasn't speaking, just shaking—a silent, hopeless tremor wracking his frame, his face frozen in a rictus of terror and inconsolable loss.