FUN FACT: I rarely come up with the ending of a oneshot before I start writing it. Most of the time I just go hmm am I in the mood for death or happy today, and that's what I'm going with. However, today's mood is definitely... interesting.
Also, I do not know a single thing about guns. I am ✨European✨.
TRIGGER WARNINGS:
-Death
-Medical stuff
-Cauterization
-Field medicine
*** *** ***
The ringing in her ears made Emma want to cover them, but her hands were preoccupied clutching her bleeding leg.
The helicopter crashed. Great.
Barely aware of what she was doing or why, she tied her bow around her leg, biting her lip as she did.
As soon as her vision cleared, she looked around. He should be here. Where is he?
Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes fell on him. Paul was still in the helicopter, a couple feet away from her, hanging limply in his seat, blood covering his face and clothes, and his arm seemed to have done a full 180.
Emma wanted to cry. But she didn't. Instead, she forced herself to sit up, crawling towards the helicopter.
When she didn't feel his pulse, she didn't cry. She didn't scream. She couldn't afford to lose those precious seconds of blood still being inside her body.
*** *** ***
Going to the nearest house was an agonizing process, but as soon as she reached the front yard and found a key under a flowerpot, she went inside.
Fuck morals. This is the apocalypse, for fuck's sake.
It didn't take her long to find a first aid kit. Or maybe it took hours. Emma wasn't aware of much more than the blinding pain radiating from her thigh.
She turned the box upside down, immediately reaching for a bottle of antiseptic and pouring it over her leg, letting out a strained cry as she did.
Next, she grabbed a suture kit, before removing the makeshift tourniquet.
Her hands were trembling like an earthquake as she threaded the needle, her swarming vision not doing much to help. When she finally managed to get the string through the eye of the needle, she could barely keep her eyes open.
She took a deep breath, before positioning herself so she had a good view of her leg.
Her vision blurred when she grabbed her leg to hold it in place, and the needle fell onto the floor in what seemed like slow motion.
Yep, that thing wasn't sterile anymore.
"Fuuuuuck."
There was no time to beat herself up, so Emma got to her feet, and dragged herself through the house, opening every drawer and cabinet to find what she was looking for. An iron. She plugged it into the nearest outlet and let herself slide down the wall next to it, not even bothering to go back to the living room.
She tapped her fingers on the floor, trying to distract herself as the iron heated up, looking at the trail of blood she'd left behind.
The small 'click' that indicated that the iron that reached the temperature made her jump, and she grabbed the handle with trembling hands, biting down on the rag in her mouth.
The sound that left her when she pressed the iron against the open wound barely qualified as human, and she could barely see anything through the blur of her vision.
Her mind yelled at her to stop, but she kept going, burning the wound shut. The smell of burning flesh quickly filled the room, making her nauseous. She squeezed her eyes shut as she pressed the iron against her leg one last time, before setting it down next to her, taking a moment to blink away the tears and calm down her racing heart.
She moved her leg so she could reach the inside of her thigh, and her stomach churned by the idea of having to do it again.
Emma almost gave up, accepting her inevitable death.
But she had to destroy the meteor. For Paul.
She held her breath as she worked, trying to take her mind off the blinding pain.
Just yesterday, everything had been normal. Just yesterday, she barely knew Paul, and now she's mourning him, unable to keep the tears from falling at the thought of his mangled corpse stuck in the helicopter, limbs bent in weird positions, and blood covering most of his body.
He was gone before she even got the chance to know him.
She whimpered, telling herself to hang on for a few minutes longer, then she could rest.
Emma let her head fell back as she put the iron on the floor next to her. Letting out a few shaky breaths, she got to her feet with great effort, following the blood trail back towards the living room.
She grabbed a cloth from the first aid kit and poured some antiseptic over it, taking a deep breath before rubbing it over the burned skin. It didn't hurt as much as what she'd just been through, but it was nowhere near pleasant.
After she'd wrapped her leg with some bandages, she allowed herself to lie down on the couch, not even bothering to turn off the lights before she drifted off to sleep.
*** *** ***
When Emma woke up from the sun shining on her face, the pain in her leg was the first thing she noticed. Not surprisingly, it hurt like hell. She got up with a grunt, made her way to the bathroom, and opened the cabinet to look for some painkillers. When she finally found a bottle, she had to stop herself from just taking the entire bottle in an attempt to give herself a break from the pain, instead taking three pills with a big gulp of water.
She limped to the kitchen, and pulled open every cabinet, stashing food into a backpack she found, together with a pair of crutches, thank God.
Throwing some water bottles and supplies from the first aid kit into the bag while she waited for the painkillers to kick in, she thought about what to do now.
Of course, she had to destroy the meteor, but on crutches and barely holding onto consciousness, she didn't stand a chance.
Opening the last cabinet, she saw a dark gray box on the top shelf, behind a box of cereal. She climbed onto the counter, biting her lip to stifle the noise that came from her throat, and reached for the box. The box of cereal tumbled down, covering the kitchen in expired fruit loops. The box came down too, and out of it fell exactly what she was looking for. A gun.
She checked the amount of bullets, and there were enough in there to defend her. Hopefully.
She put the gun in the holster she found in the box, and swung the bag over her shoulder, gripping the crutches tightly.
Let's do this.
*** *** ***
Walking with the crutches was way too loud to try and sneak up to the Starlight Theater, so instead, she went as fast as humanly possible, not looking around to the house she'd 'borrowed'.
As soon as Emma saw the Starlight in the distance, she moved even faster, ignoring her aching arms.
She stepped over the threshold, resting one crutch onto a seat, using the other to make her way to the stage, her hand on the gun. Just in case.
There was something strange about the meteor. Blue sparks flew around her, and she could swear they were in the shape of tiny music notes. She looked around, and almost screamed when she saw someone look at her from the wings.
"You've la dee dah'ed your last day, Emma dear." professor Hidgens announced, emerging from the shadows.
Emma took a step back, her voice shaking. "Stay back, professor! I'm here to destroy this alien hivemind."
His blue eyes seemed to glow, and his guts were still hanging from his abdomen, though he didn't seem to be bothered by that. "Come join us, Emma. We'll make you happy. You might even be able to see your lovely friend Paul again."
"Paul is dead. And you can't convince me, I'm stronger than you think I am."
With one swift motion, she pulled the gun, flicked off the safety, and shot her professor. The bullet hit his chest, and his eyes went wide as he looked down, his legs gave out, and fell face-first onto the floor.
Emma stepped over his body, moving closer towards the meteor. When she reached it, she raised her hand. It turned to dust at her touch, and she startled, tripping over Hidgens's body as she took a step back.
A small... monster, stood at her feet, brushing the dust off his fur. He was blue, and his face was covered by a cracked mask, blue goo seeping from the cracks.
"Emma Perkins," it started. Its voice echoed through the theater, and the walls shook at the deafening sound. "I knew you'd come." "Who are you?" Emma asked, trying to get to her feet.
"I am Pokotho. As you've probably noticed, I came here to make the world a little happier."
"Killing people makes them happy?!" Emma swung her crutch at the monster, who only chuckled as he stepped aside, making her fall down hard.
"Are you not happy now? Well then, I guess I should go. But I warn you, the Lords In Black will come to haunt this town forever. It might've been better to let me free you all."
With that, the monster disappeared with a flash, leaving a pile of blue slime where it had been standing.
Around her, the theater rumbled, but instead of collapsing like Emma feared, the debris moved, slowly flying towards the hole in the roof, and repairing itself, until the theater looked as good as it did before.
*** *** ***
For a while, everything seemed alright. Unlike the theater, dead people stayed dead, so the previously busy town had only a few citizens, and Emma spent most of her time in bed, resting her leg as much as she could.
But after a few months, around Black Friday, a new danger arose...