[ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ♪ 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐘 ]

right my wrongs | 17

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Creek was finally at his limit. His whole face felt like it was beginning to lose feeling, and it began to spread to his whole body. Everything in sight was warped and blurred, spinning but also not moving at all.

His eyes twitched over at the two queens sound asleep on the couch. They'd been asleep for basically forever, and left him here to die. At every subtle movement they made, he glanced over in hope, praying it was them waking up and finally deciding to take him to the hospital. But alas, they are very deep sleepers.

-

Hours lazily passed and he'd slowly began to regain the smallest amounts of his body again. His left shoulder blade had to be torn, the way it wouldn't budge without starting up tears and excruciating pain. His right arm was slightly sore but otherwise, perfectly fine.

Creek sat up against the wall across from the couch, watching the two shift and snore in their sleep. He sucked in a breath and pushed himself to his feet with one swift movement. He slightly bounced off the wall and froze, thinking they'd wake up. Barb grumbled but it was just the way she slept like a pig.

He grimaced at her and rolled his eyes, limping over to the bathroom. The harsh yellow lighting stung for a bit, blinding his vision. His eyes came back to him as he approached the small mirror above the sink. Staring back at him was a beaten bloody man. It was worse than he'd imagined. His right eye was fading into a deep purple shade. There was blood. So. Much. Blood.

Everywhere, there was blood. Dried blood running down his lips to his neck. Healing scabs on his cheek. A slightly misaligned jaw. He bared his teeth in the mirror to find they were all coated in the metallic liquid, and one was even missing. He lifted his good hand and squeezed his eyes, swiftly snapping the bottom half of his mouth back into place. It didn't hurt as much as he thought it would.
He gently opened and closed his mouth, adjusting to the strange sensation.

He felt horrified and almost disgusted. The man quickly turned away from the mirror and leaned down into the sink, resting his eyes. His heart raced with adrenaline that fueled his soul. He cupped his hands under the sink and let the cold water flow before bringing it to his lips and gently swishing it around.

He finally spat with a bit of pain, to find the water running a light stained red down the drain. Creek gently released the equally bloody spit down the drain and watched with a flat stare. The man settled against the wall of Poppy's small bathroom and let out a soft breath through his nose. He glanced around the tiny room, everything stayed the same, surprisingly.

It was strange how Poppy never changed anything about her home. Knowing her, you'd expect her to change the design of everything constantly. Repainting the walls, changing the decor, moving around furniture. But no. Everything was exactly how it used to be.
The same soggy old wool bathmat in front of the tub. The same red hand towels with apples and worms on them. His eyes found themselves locked atop of her mirror. He pushed himself up on his toes and reached up with his good arm.

Just above the mirror, resting on it's dusty surface, sat his crystal of aventurine. He didn't dare move it.

Creek grinned to himself as he reached the ground again and to his spot on the wall. It was nice that she decided to keep it. It was also nice how she decided to not shoot him dead with her pistol.

He was in quite the pickle. He couldn't speak much, and definitely wasn't in any shape to simply leave. He'd dropped his keys somewhere in the woods, and certainly couldn't drive even if he wanted to. The pain in his jaw was settled but it was completely unbearable when he tried to open his mouth.
So, no voice, no keys, no car, no way out. Just lovely.