Death Does Discriminate

455 33 61
                                    

"Death doesn't discriminate from the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes."

Sherlock's POV

Nothing in my life could've prepared me for this, I'd never seen such a horrific scene. Blood was still spilling from her, coating the ground in its warm thickness. It made lazy red rivers on the pavement. Her usually warm eyes were glazed over, unseeing, unrelenting. Her body was a mangled mess, beaten and bloody. One arm jutted in the wrong direction, a deep gap lay in one leg. Two words were carved onto her torso, slurs. Dyke. Negro. My stomach heaved at the sight of her.

Olivia was dead.

I knelt beside her, hearing the crunch of gravel behind me as John ran up. He gasped when he saw her. I couldn't tear my eyes off of her, her young face still and lifeless. She was dead. We hadn't been quick enough, and she was dead. John knelt beside me, in front of her, as tears began to prick the backs of my eyes.

"No," I whispered, horrified. She'd only been dead for an hour if that. Only a half a mile away from us. From Alice.

Alice. Oh dear God, no. Alice couldn't see this, she can't handle this. She'd lost so much in her life, in the past couple of years, but Olivia had always been there for her throughout that. And just like that, she was gone. 17, the oldest she would ever be. 17, and dead.

The familiar teenage voice sounded behind me, along with the chorus of agents voices. Telling her to go back, to leave. I stood quickly, turning around. She was breathing heavily as if she'd run here. Her chest was heaving, her dark hair a disarray. Two agents were grabbing Alice's arms as she begged to be let go, begged to see her. And then she saw me. Saw John. Saw the mangled body at our feet.

The scream was horrific, a shrill screech of anguish that no human should ever have to make. I didn't think anyone could make such a sound until she did. My stomach dropped at the sound. And now that sound will forever replay in my mind, over and over. There was no escape. Her mouth was opened wide as she screamed, kicking and pulling. The agents had grabbed her arms in a desperate attempt to keep her from seeing it.

But there was no escape from the horrific scene there, no escape from the terrifying guilt and loss that we were all experiencing. Especially Alice. "NO!" She shrieked, writhing. She yanked one arm free and pulled it back. Fast as an adder, she swung her fist into one of their faces. He reeled back, letting go of her in the process.

And then she was running towards us, towards the mangled body at our feet. She flung herself down next to her, sobbing. "No, no, you can't be, you can't be," she cried, over and over again.

Alice brushed the hair out of Olivia's face, tears spilling down onto her still face. She lay her head on her chest, shaking as her body was wracked with sobs.

Her entire world came crashing down, shattering into a million pieces. A million pieces that would never be whole again.

Jack's voice was heard, calling for his sister, desperate. He came crashing through the trees, stopping dead when he saw us. Eyes trained on his little sister and the girl at our feet. His eyes went wide and he sprinted the rest of the way to Alice. He fell to his knees beside her, pulling her into him. She gripped him tightly, guttural shrieks still coming from her.

Tears were falling freely from my face as my chest tightened and tightened, and ever spinning spiral. I fell to my knees again, crumpling to the ground. My hand covered my mouth, a cry of anguish escaping my throat.

My lip quivered and I looked around at the scene. Other than Olivia, not much was out of the ordinary. There was a path of gravel that led from the front of the station back here, to a pavement lot. Blood splattered the area around, staining it red. 

Marriage and Mental Illness (Sequel to Tall Buildings and Pill Bottles)Where stories live. Discover now