𝖰𝗎𝗂𝗋𝗄: 𝙂𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡

Wounds

Aizawa's POV (past; rescuing Akuma):

Blood.

There was so much blood.

I didn't know who the red fluid belong to, nor did I understand why 47 was looking at me like that, pulling knives from his torso like it was something he did everyday.

It shouldn't have been like this.

There should have been no reason for him to be lying in pools of his own blood.

He shouldn't have been shaking, staring at me with such widened eyes as he yelled, no, screamed.

"GET HER OUT OF HERE!"

My gaze was so frozen on his dying form that I hadn't even registered where Akuma actually was. From the way his voice was cracking, and the quiet sobs that were being released under his breath...

She must have been ripped to pieces.

I was hesitant on not dragging the man out of this godforsaken building right then and there, but the only thing that was actually stopping me was the fact that he was conscious.

From the otherwise silence in the room, it was obvious anyone else who was alive, had been unconscious.

Or on the brink of death.

With those thoughts in mind, I rushed past 47, following that scarlet trail... something I quickly realized didn't exist, there was no such thing; as the entire room seemed to be covered in the substance.
I couldn't even wrap my head around how much there actually was, but it was obvious more than one person created this mess.

I was just hoping Akuma wasn't one of the ones bleeding out.

It felt like a slaughterhouse, a place where animals were brutally murdered, their guts thrown around into translucent containers that only made the whole place seem more gruesome.

Hell, the walls in this place were coated with a layer of blood.

How can you even do that—

Ah.

Laying against the wall seemed to be a body... a dead one at that.

Upon closer inspection it was definitely mutilated beyond identification, but I could vaguely make out the gender... and the dark hair atop what seemed to be his head; not to mention the obvious bullet hole piercing through his temple.

Gee, the skin on his cheeks were ripped apart and...

Was that an eye?

I pathetically resisted the urge to vomit, my mouth suddenly watering uncontrollably as tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

I wasn't sure if he ripped it out himself or if someone did it for him...

But the way it was rested so gently in his open hand—

Ugh, I'm glad I didn't see that go down.

Trying to move on from the sight, I moved towards the opposite direction, where those broken tanks resided, hoping that Akuma was either breaking all the shit in this room or was at least laying beside one of them, breathing.

She had to be okay. There was no way this was any of her blood. She was stronger than that.

Stronger than most of us.