Euphoria

Chapter Forty-Four: Betrayal and Blood

Sean barreled toward Dark, pocket knife exposed. It was the one he took from Anti the first time he'd appeared. He didn't know why he still had it, but he supposed it was for memories despite not being that sentimental. The blade sank deep into Dark's shoulder, the impact forcing his arm back.

"Son of a bitch!" Dark leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Sean and tossing him over to the left wall. "You fucking stabbed me? Really?!" He grabbed the knife, slowly pulling the blade from the fleshy sheath, blood painting steel a new color. His hands shook as he clutched the weapon, a fiery look in his brown eyes. "You should've accepted the easy way."

"Ve don't do things zhe easy vay!" Henrik said, motioning for Jameson to pull his revolver from its leather holster. "Come on! Ve don't have much time!"

Dark turned his attention to the sickly male, smirking. "You look pretty bad, Jameson. Something wrong?"

Jameson ignored him, pulling out his handkerchief with his free hand and dabbing at his slick forehead, coughing. "I'm out of bullets, Doc! I'm not magic. I can't just pull ammunition out of my sleeves!" He said, pointing his gun at Dark and hearing the dreadful click every time he pulled the trigger. "Punch him or something. He's not made of titanium!"

"Right!" Henrik said.

Just as he was about to charge, Dark pulled a gun from his waistband, pointing it at him. "I thought you were smart, Doctor. Sadly, you won't be alive long enough to treat your wounds."

Jameson couldn't afford to freeze, unable to withstand another loss, especially someone who he had a love-hate relationship with. Sure, they had banters back and forth, but the doctor had earned his brotherhood, his loyalty. Jameson rushed to his side, tackling him to the ground just as Dark pulled the trigger.

Jameson sucked in a breath, praying that Henrik wasn't the one to get shot, knowing that one of them would've, especially since neither of them is faster than a speeding bullet.

"JJ! You're bleeding." Henrik pointed to the blood pooling to the floor.

The fabric of his slacks was soaked and torn, a gaping hole in his leg. Jameson could feel the warmth, but nothing more. Although he knew everyone's experience being shot was different, he couldn't help but think Jackie had something to do with this. Then again, it could've just been his blood loss that made him come to that absurd conclusion. "Damn..." He said, his hand clutching above the wound. "I've finally been shot."

"Scheisse!" Henrik pulled Jameson over to the wall and leaned him against it, ripping off his sleeve and using it as a tourniquet. "Stay here and keep zhe pressure on zhe vound, okay?"

"But, you're already cutting off my circulation."

"Do vhat I say!" Henrik yelled, pulled back into the fight by the collar of his shirt. "Let me go, you bastard!"

Marvin had his attention focused on Chase, feeling as though this was the perfect opportunity to kill him, but something was holding him back. Was it his humanity? It couldn't be. He had none left; right now, he was having trouble not choking him to death for all he did. As if something, some force was now pushing him, urging him, he straddled his brother, wrapping his hands around his neck.

Chase struggled, but there weren't many fights left in him as he kicked his legs, his eyes wide. "Brother!" He said through shallow inhales, whatever breath he could take between each tighter squeeze. "This... This isn't... You!"

"I..." Marvin trailed off, a tint of red in his eyes. He couldn't deny what he'd wanted most for so long, watching his brother's eyes roll into the back of his head as his face grew reddish-pink.