Tidal | Neuvillette

XX

With trembling hands, she reached out to touch the stained fabric, her fingers tracing the outlines of the crimson marks with a mixture of horror and disbelief. Each stain told a silent tale of violence and despair, a stark reminder of the darkness that lurked within the shadows.

As she sat amidst the ruins of her innocence, a sense of dread washed over her, threatening to engulf her in its icy embrace. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, there was a glimmer of determination—a resolve to uncover the truth and confront the demons that haunted her restless dreams.

And as she rose from the bed, her hands stained with the evidence of her nightmares, she knew that she must steel herself for the challenges that lay ahead. For in the heart of darkness, there was always a flicker of light waiting to be found—a beacon of hope amidst the shadows that had threatened to consume her soul.

The source of the sanguine fluid was her upper arm. The ruin guard had left it's brutal legacy... and it hadn't stopped bleeding.

The pristine white sheets, once untouched by blemish, now bore the crimson imprint of life's sorrowful essence.

"Fuck..."

...

"What do I even do now.."

She winced at the sudden rush of pain in her upper arm. In the quiet of the room, an oppressive stillness hung heavy in the air, each moment weighed down by the unspoken weight of sorrow and regret.

"You're finally awake—"

The familiar voice carried a commanding presence, resonating with authority and conviction. Each word was measured and deliberate, conveying a sense of confidence and assurance. There was a hint of warmth beneath the surface, tempered by a steely resolve that spoke to his unwavering dedication to justice. Like a hypnotic velvety sound.

And of course, it was indeed Neuvillette whose voice echoed through the room, his presence a reassuring anchor in the midst of uncertainty.

"I discovered you lying there, bathed in sunlight and blood, amidst the ancient ruins of the Fontaine region," the Chief explained solemnly, his words carrying the weight of the scene he had stumbled upon. "You had me worried... so I brought you back here for further care.."

"Neuvillette..."

"Hm?"

"My arm..."

"I'm so sorry, chief."

His gaze drifted to her arm, where a crimson stain marred the fabric of her sleeve—a vivid reminder of the ordeal she had endured.

"Why are you sorry...?"

"I got blood everywhere." The crimson hues of blood, like whispered echoes from the past, stirred dormant demons within her soul. Each droplet had been a silent witness to the untold stories of pain and anguish she had buried deep within the recesses of her heart. As she had stood on the precipice of memory's abyss, the weight of past traumas had threatened. Even a glance at the red substance, brought back crashing memories like vicious tidal waves.

"This isn't your fault."

The Chief's eyes softened with concern as he took in the sight of her injuries, a pang of empathy tugging at his heart. He knelt beside her, his expression a mix of compassion and determination as he had sought to understand the extent of her wounds. With a gentle touch, he reached out to assess her injuries, his movements careful and deliberate as he sought to provide her with the aid she needed. "Please, allow me."