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The locker room floor was cold against Richie’s cheek.
The blood pooling around his head had been warm for a little while, but he'd been lying here long enough that it was now ice cold like the rest of him. He could feel his entire body trembling.
just need to find paul just need to get up and find paul i'm gonna be okay i'll be alright paul will know what to do he'll fix this
He could see the first aid scissors on the other side of the locker room, covered in blood. Richie’s blood. Scissors meant to save lives used to end Richie’s.
not dying yet don't be stupid paul isn't here yet
Richie tried to lift his head up, groaning when his entire body screamed in protest. He was so tired.
just need to find paul somehow
Paul was sitting out in the stands, probably waiting for Richie to come out for his halftime routine. The cheerleaders were probably waiting for him. Max had locked the door before he left. No one was going to be able to get in and help him without breaking the door down.
find paul find paul find paul
It took every modicum of Richie's energy to lift his head up, but he didn't get much further than that. It was too taxing. Everything hurt. He could taste blood. It had completely soaked through his vest, and it was pooling around him on the floor. It was everywhere. Richie hated it.
need paul
He let his head fall back onto the concrete, and he forced out a wet cough. Blood spurted out of his mouth and onto the floor beside him. His eyes were fixed to the head of the nighthawk costume, resting on the bench. It was staring at him, taunting him. The one witness of what that thing had done to Richie.
paul
Richie tried to take a deep breath, but it was getting harder and harder to take in enough air. He was hyperventilating. Everything still hurt.
He was so tired.
he'll save me
Richie forced his eyes open, and he tried to find something to focus on. Three sounds, three scents, three things he could see. He just needed to stay awake. If he fell asleep it was all over. He'd seen it in the movies.
i see the zeke costume
i see
my blood. so much blood
i see
i see
Richie was exhausted. Maybe he could close his eyes for just a second.
no paul is on his way i need to be awake
Richie opened his eyes again. Surely half time had started by now. In his mind, he could see Paul looking around the field, his brows furrowed just a little bit. Maybe he'd ask around, see if anyone knew where his nephew, Richie was. No one would know. They didn't care enough. Maybe he'd sit back down, stewing in his worry, not wanting to seem overbearing by going out and looking for him. Maybe he would send him a text message. “hey bud, you okay?” Maybe he'd start to feel a little sick when Richie didn't respond.
Richie let out a quiet sob, his chest jolting forward. He coughed again, trying to cover his mouth. He couldn't move his arm. It was too heavy. His entire body felt much too heavy.
i see nerdy prudes must die on the wall
in my blood
my blood is everywhere
Richie could hear his throat crackling. It was quiet, barely audible, but the locker room was completely silent. He was alone. He was going to die on his own.
i hear
death rattle
i hear cheering outside
i want to see paul
Richie didn't think he'd be able to hold on long enough. His head was spinning. He couldn't really focus on anything anymore.
i smell
blood
blood
blood
blood
paul's cologne
paul i'm sorry for stealing your cologne
Richie couldn't hold on anymore. He didn't want to keep fighting. He so badly wanted to live, but it was too difficult.
He was tired, fading.
It was easier to close his eyes. He would just rest them for a little while. He'd sleep until Paul came to fix this.
i see
blackness
black and white
blue purple yellow pink green
nothing infinite nothing
Richie let out a deep breath, finally allowing himself to rest.