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Third Wing

She fought, and fought further into the mess, entangling herself worse than before until suddenly, with an eerie abruptness, Creedence stilled.


HP: 25
Virus: 50

Third Wing

Creedence had very rarely experienced any sort of extreme pain. She'd broken an arm once and that has been more than enough. But here she knew, just beyond the haze of illness, that her body was reaching a limit. That what she was doing was a sort of torture but these things were in her way!

She couldn't stop.

HP: 15
Virus: 60

Third Wing

Creedence was up to her elbows in her own blood and she could not stop.

HP: 5
Virus: 70

Third Wing

Creedence stopped.

HP: 0

courtyard

Charlotte - Sam - received a look of shock, and that was it.

He was falling.

There was surprisingly little going through his head as the ground rushed up to meet him. So this was it. Would it hurt? It definitely wasn't the way he had expected to go. He wondered if this meant he'd get a chance to talk to Death again, one last time --

His body slammed into the tangle of thorns spread over the wall.

There was no reason to expect a miracle. And yet, somehow, he'd traded the full force of the drop for lacerations by sharp curving thorns, vines snapping and sparing him the worst of his own momentum. He hit the ground, but not at full speed - and bounced back. Lucky was caught hanging in the vines, in the shredded remains of his jacket.

And everything hurt.

It took a few more seconds before he was brave enough to try opening his eyes again. There was blood dripping down his face, arms, and everywhere else from several nasty-looking slashes. His ears were ringing and all the movement around him was a vague blur, save for the few people who had come close enough to see with his glasses askew. He was distantly aware that parts of him were not responding like they should have been, but his thoughts were too cloudy to make sense of it. He shouldn't have been alive right now, and it was confusing the hell out of him. Either Charlotte was just toying with him, or she was very bad at finishing the job.

"Should have-" He struggled for breath. It hurt to talk. He wasn't really looking at Wilson, or Quinn, or anyone else. Just staring out in the direction his head was tilted. "Expected that--"

Lucky coughed, a spray of blood, and his eyes seemed to actually focus on Quinn. He reached out and managed to get a weak grasp on his sleeve.

"Tell Gale... I'm going to k-kill- ugh-" The hand let go and dangled, leaving Quinn with a bloody handprint on his nice white coat. "Forget it."

The pain was creeping in, on the edges. With every movement he made the places where things had been broken were making themselves known. He didn't know how Mimsy had found him. Or if she was even really there. Maybe he was just imagining this. There was no witty reply to her offer - just a pleading look. "H-help."

Third Wing

Drip.

A drop of blood and then another fell onto the linoleum as the body began to slowly rise again.

Third Wing

Pajamas grew ragged and bloodied as the body persisted in its motions. Again. Again.

Third Wing --> Courtyard

And then the vines parted before the body, allowing its exit. It walked slowly, no victory in its new found freedom. Scanning the area there were many bodies, but they contained people, and that was no longer acceptable.

Ragged and bloody, the body moved forward.