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Dolphin was ruthless when wielding a mace, elegance and gentleness all thrown out the window as she exerted all her strength into smashing people to death with it, wanting to feel that surge of power and control she had over people that were weaker than her.
The craving of wanting to feel people’s fears and see them crumble under the pressure.
And Stormz just so happened to be her victim for the day.
He didn’t pay attention to his surroundings, so he paid the price of it. He let his guard drop, so he will drop as well. Just as he was restocking his inventory out in the wild; he had just gotten out a fight with someone else so his inventory looked like the trenches, Dolphin came from above and the last thing he saw before his vision blacked out and his body moved from pure muscle memory was the god mace that Dolphin had, taunting him in the slightest.
Stormz muttered out a curse, barely heard as the swing hit him square in the chest, crushing his sternum, pressing down on his diaphragm. He felt the air getting punched out of his lungs as his ribs smashed inwards, collapsing onto his lungs, narrowly piercing it on the edges. He fell hard, head hitting the edge of a stone
Stormz’s body moved from pure adrenaline, his vision a shade of red from the pain and panic that settled in his nerves. He scrambled towards the cave opening, desperate for some type of closure as he ran into it without thinking— he couldn’t breathe, his ribs collapsed directly on his lungs and his chest constricted against it.
The stone flooring was both slippery and rough, contributing in him tripping on a particular turn he took, swerving and losing his footing in the process. He scrambled to pick himself up, pushing his body up with every little remaining energy he had as he continued to flee— to where? He doesn’t know either.
He ran to one of the cave’s dead ends, blood still dripping from his chin— when had he started coughing out his own blood?
After great struggles, he pulled out his pickaxe from his toolbelt and started mining, chiseling away bits of stone and shoveling any loose gravel with his bare hand, breaking the first layer of skin that was protecting an old wound that consumed time to heal properly, blood seeping out just shy from beading from the now reopened wound.
Desperation and determination were two very weird things to face, especially if combined together, but he still had to go through both of them at once.
He prayed and wished for some type of miracle to happen; a place to run away and hide, a place to restock his items properly or maybe a place for him to wait for his own demise— though he’d much prefer the latter and take his revenge on Dolphin, any type of refuge felt like a blessing at the moment.
But as he dug through the cave, removing any loose pieces of rubble, leaving stains of his own blood on each surface he touched, he finally found a room separated from the rest of the cave system. Relaxation slowly flooded his nerve systems, though he was still panicked and everything still hurt like a bitch.
He mined straight into another room, similar to the previous one but was covered in layers of dripstone enough to hide him just in case Dolphin was tailing him. He destroyed the ceiling of the man-made tunnel, watching it collapse under and successfully trapping Stormz inside the enclosed room of stone, alone.
But he couldn’t relax, not yet, not when his ribs were crushed inwards from the momentum of the mace. Even moving an inch felt like hell, but the adrenaline that was pumping in his blood was telling him to just suck it up and move forward. He placed down an enderchest with great effort, struggling to get it open before rummaging through its contents.
Stormz pushed through the pain and set down a few color coded shulkers. How did he even end up down here when he could barely get a move on now? He doesn’t have an idea either, but he still rummaged through his shulkers, struggling in the dark as he threw the potions he didn’t currently need on the ground, unaware of them smashing and breaking from the momentum— oh well, it wasn’t that hard to brew a few potions. What’s the harm in being a little more reckless than he usually was?
His fingers grazed against a bright red bottle of substance, slightly illuminating a color of crimson much like his blood despite not having any light to reflect on— but he didn’t think about that, not that he could try to with all the pain that bloomed in his nerve systems. He uncorked the bottle and chugged down the instant health potion, the taste of glistening melons lingering on his tongue. The aftertaste was sickeningly sweet and tasted fermented on the edge, but it definitely made breathing easier. His airways finally opened, giving way for oxygen to enter his body after not being able to accept any for the past few minutes.
His body eased, his nerves no longer burning from the blooming pain as it was slowly numbed by the substance, sedating his body to the least. His body could finally relax, no longer attacked with that striking pain in his chest, the medicine working its way to reduce each and every pain he had to face. Broken skin repaired itself, bones slowly snapping into place subtly enough that he wouldn’t notice if that wasn’t the only thing he was forced to focus on.
He was barely aware of hearing glass shatter in the distance— when had he thrown the glass bottle anyway? Not that he really cares, he wants to bask in the temporary high that the potion served to reduce pain. It felt nice, feeling so at ease to the point he was left barely any room to think about any future side effects of it.
Though, that was where all of his remaining adrenaline had been used up. His consciousness felt like it was slipping from his grasp. Lethargy crashed hard the second his body eased from the now lessened pain in his chest. His eyes were half lidded as he relaxed against the rough surface of the cave walls, wings splayed across the surface, covering it in a beautiful portrait of blood-stained feathers.
Even if the walls were sturdy, it sure felt like it would collapse on him at any second. The longer he dwelled down inside the cave, the more it felt like the world was closing in on him. Oxygen felt scarce even if he was free to breathe whenever he wanted considering that his ribcage was no longer constricting him, but damn did it feel like he was running out of oxygen fast.
Sucking in breathes greedily, wheezing from the humid air. His nose felt congested, breathing got harder by the second. All the surrounding moss and the poor ventilation didn’t help even the slightest— the moisture in the air was getting to his lungs, he was practically wheezing for fresh oxygen at this point.
But even if he was slowly running out of oxygen, his mind was still in a state of daze and high that he couldn’t avoid. Not that he wanted to, it always felt nice to have a cotton stuffed mind once in a while. His eyes felt like they were about to close, he was on the brink of dozing off completely before he realised that it would easily turn fatal.
The air underground was sickeningly damp—every breath made Stormz’s airways narrow from how humid the air was. Oxygen levels were reduced too, it wasn’t a great idea to pass out underground— hypoxemia or hypoxia wasn’t the nicest thing to face, and considering he had just gotten out of a fight against a mace wielder? Dying to low oxygen levels felt awfully pathetic.
It was cold too, much colder than he had preferred. Barely any heat could travel in the cave systems— to be completely fair, sunlight could barely shine in the small cracks and crevices even when he’s near the surface, much less when he’s at deepslate.
But it wasn’t like he could get out, he could barely even think with his head that was as high as the clouds, much less try to navigate his way out of the mines without
His mind felt disoriented. It felt like he was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It felt like he was at cloud nine but at the same time he felt grounded and stuck in his own mind. He could barely recall why he was inside the cave systems in the first place, much less can he recall the exact location it was at to alert his teammates.
His sight was tunneled, blurry from god knows what. No matter how much he tried to focus and zero in on something, it proved to no avail. His vision was fading and his consciousness was too, and he knew he was doomed there— the instant health potion contained a chemical that tends to relax the body once it reacts with the immune system, and sometimes, the relaxation it serves comes in forms of excessive tiredness and lack of energy.
Sweat beaded on his forehead— it wasn’t even warm down here, why’s he sweating? The droplets collected, making his bangs greasier than they were before and caused them to stick to his forehead. His heart was beating faster at the minute despite not even doing anything that could increase heart rate.
The last bit of consciousness slipped, the world tilting slightly before it all turned to black. His breathing slowed down, but it was still rapid and uneven. His oxygen blood level was low and he knew it, but he couldn’t do anything to prevent it.
It was truly pitiful how he survived a mace wielder just to inevitably die to his own stupidity in the end, it was pathetic.
——————————————————————————————————————————
“Please leave a message after the tone—”
The call had gone to voicemail once more, unanswered like the rest of the calls he had attempted to make. Dumb threw his communicator on the bed in frustration, groaning as he heard that familiar artificial voice. He flopped on his bed, laying right next to his comms and shielded his face using his hands.
It had been an hour since Stormz had randomly gone MIA without anyone’s notice. An hour of dread, confusion and frustration for Dumb.
At first, he thought he was just busy getting jumped, but after getting in touch with the other players, he definitely wasn’t. Nobody else saw where he went or knew where he was other than one of his familiar friends, Dolphin.
[DUMBISDUMB] “Dude, have you like— seen Stormz anywhere?”
[DOL9HIN] “Don’t know, it’s been a hot minute since I heard from him too”
[DOL9HIN] “Last I saw him he tunneled underground”
[DOL9HIN] “Not sure if he resurfaced tho”
[DUMBISDUMB] ”You remember the coords?”
[DUMBISDUMB] “He won’t respond to any of my messages”
[DUMBISDUMB] ”I have a feeling he did something really stupid”
[DOL9HIN] ”Yeah, I’ll give it in a sec”
[DOL9HIN] ”Go save your duo or something dude”
[DUMBISDUMB] ”Yeah, okay bro, whatever you say”
The comms closed with a soft shutter, turning on do not disturb before he shut his communicator off— it wasn’t like people actually bothered him with excessive spamming, but he didn’t feel like hearing the pings no matter how important it might’ve been. The sounds would genuinely drive him into a state of insanity one day if he had to listen to it for hours on end.
With the set of coordinates in hand, he took off and soared the sky, wind blowing in the opposite direction, softly grazing his skin and cooling his already cooled body. A sense of comfort and a strong sense of familiarity filled him, basking in the cool breeze against his skin.
The flight towards the location wasn’t exactly far, but it sure felt like it was. Nasty thoughts occupied his mind as he continued on his endeavor. No matter how much he doubted Stormz being dead or unconscious somewhere, he can’t just leave him behind like that, not when his friend was possibly suffering alone, cold and scared— though he’d doubt that the latter would admit that he felt emotions as such.
Stormz’s sense of pride was overwhelming at times; he would never admit that he was hurting even if his blood was flowing out of his body freely. He’d never admit he needed help, he simply didn’t like being in a position where he didn’t have control over it. He hated being the one on the receiving side, he despised being looked down upon.
It wasn’t something that Dumb could change even if he wanted to— it was Stormz’s choice whether he threw his life away or not. Every choice was in his own hands; whether that be him letting his own body decompose and rot or let it thrive healthily and throw away any risk of corruption that would consume himself fully and leave nothing left of the original friend that Dumb would have looked up to.
Dumb landed steadily on a patch of gravel on the side of a mountain; it looked like it was carved by a man rather than a naturally collapsed terrain that formed over time. The entrance was jagged and uneven, rushed and seemingly all too unnatural for it to be terrain work. It led down into a cave system, dark, cold and unforgiving.
Trickles of blood were spilt, leading deeper into the mines; the blood was a shade of dark red, indicating that it had been a while since it had been shed. It could’ve been animal blood for all he knew— it could easily belong to an injured rodent or whatnot.
But he’d be risking his friend’s life over a stupid assumption. And the odds of Stormz being stuck down there wasn’t exactly impossible, but it was still a possibility he wasn’t all too willing to risk. He wasn’t willing to lose a friend that easily, not when he could still save him. The blood that had been shed was a sign of a living organism nearby, and if anything, it could be Stormz. Dolphin did mention that he tunneled underground like a mole, and he only does that when he gets threatened to fight when he isn’t ready.
The air inside the caves smelt like roadkill— rotting corpses of zombies decomposing or rats and bats that had met their demise, Dumb assumed. Or it could also be his friend— but he pushed that thought away, decomposing in less than a day isn’t possible, and leaving a strong smell at that? Literally impossible.
But chances were never zero, plus, Dumb just wanted to soothe his own nerves and stay in a good state of mine rather than lose his mind over nothing— for all he knew, Stormz could be perfectly fine and thriving in his base at the moment and he’s wasting his time like an idiot here.
After a while of consideration, he finally gave in and took entered the cave, striding deeper and deeper into the terrain after he made a small makeshift torch; it was a flimsy stick with a piece of cloth wrapped around it, lit by using a flint and steel which was bound to exhaust itself in a few minutes, but light is light either way. It wasn’t like he had come prepared with an actual lantern, if he hadn’t rushed here then maybe he would’ve thought about bringing one.
He made his way deeper into the caves, marking off anything out of place in his head, keeping in check his whereabouts to avoid getting lost. He mined away walls of cobble, removed pieces of rubble, picked pebbles of stone to throw against the walls to make noise; usually making his presence known was a bad thing, but if Stormz was truly trapped and needed help, he doubted that he’d attack the first person he sees. And at least, if Stormz was actually injured, he could make a few indications on his whereabouts.
But it was useless. Minutes of searching and not a single trace was found other than the trail of old blood that seemingly stopped a few blocks ago. With nothing to prove of Stormz’s whereabouts or even his existence, he couldn’t do much. Disappointment bloomed in his chest as he stared into the dead end once more, feeling defeated.
Where could have this fucker gone?
The torch he held was now extinguished by the lack of inflammable objects to live off of. The lack of oxygen was surely not helping in keeping it alive as well— only served to let it die down faster, destroying the only light source he had. Now all he had was his vision which was absolute shit and unreliable to the max.
The last bit of hope also extinguished along with it— the last bit of faith that he had in his friend still being down here, the last bit of hope that he’d ever see him again.
He wanted to go back and retrace his steps, but he felt like he was depleted of his energy by now. Sure, his friend is still missing, but he can’t do anything about it. Not when there isn’t a single proof of him still being down here— he could just be AFK in his base and forgot to check in from time to time, maybe he really was just busy and didn’t have time to reply to the hundreds of messages and dozens of calls.
But Dumb didn’t want to take that ‘maybe’ as an answer.
Stormz wasn’t the type to leave without notice, no. Especially for an extended amount of time. Not if the sounds of the ping also annoyed him so bad to the point he had once thrown his communicator against the ground from all the noise it had made. Surely he would’ve told Dumb to fuck off and give him space and time by now— but no, nothing. Not a single message was left on read, not a single message opened, all of it was left on delivered.
And even if it was just Stormz being pissed off at something stupid once more, Dumb hadn’t done anything that would presumably throw him off. Hell, they hadn’t talked for a good while until today when he heard Stormz had run off underground from Dolphin. If at least Stormz had opened the messages, then he’d know he’s probably receiving the silent treatment rather than him just going totally unresponsive after a fight.
But it's not like he could ask him about what happened or where he was or if he was okay, he probably didn’t even open his communicator for the last hour or so. Just as Dumb was about to give up and call it quits, he suddenly formed a thought, one that actually seemed like a great idea.
Ask. He could use the ping of the communicator to detect where Stormz is.
Dumb hurriedly took out his communicator, as if the plan would fail if he didn’t do it quickly enough. He typed a short message, something easy to spam and pressed send. He focused solely on one noise— the sound of a communicator’s receival ping.
In such a tightly enclosed space, a place where the wind isn’t a factor to disrupt a way noise travels, the buzz of the communicator could definitely be heard if it was focused on. It sounded like a small bell, much like the ones you’d hear on a bell set on the register counter.
Ding!
The noise was so faint it could pass as him hallucinating it or experiencing placebo effects, but he didn’t want to give up there. If he could hear it more than once, then it’s at least somewhat real. He repeatedly sent the same thing, zeroing in on that specific noise of the receival notification, following the noise as he went, trying to keep himself as quiet as possible to hear the noise at its best potential.
The more he repeated the actions, the louder the ping sounds, and by time and patience, he stumbled upon a wall of cobbled up deepslate— definitely placed by someone and not naturally generated. Just to be sure, he sent another message. And sure enough, the ping was just as loud on the other side.
He stumbled upon a cobblestone wall; tightly packed pieces of rubble and pieces of stone packed together so compact that it formed a sturdy wall. He stood back, netherite pickaxe in hand, enchantments gleaming in the small amount of light there is. Striking the wall of stone hard, watching it crumble under the pressure, revealing another hallway of stone in front of him.
Stalactite hanging from the ceiling, threatening to fall under even the slightest pressure, water dripping from it in a way it could drive someone insane from sound alone. Vines also thread along with, threatening to strangle anyone who got caught in its legs as it dangled from the cracks of the not-so-stable cave ceiling. Stalagmite penetrated from the cracks of the ground, sharp enough to pierce through anything that would fall on it. Dust and dirt scattered on the uneven surface, webs splayed on the edges of the ceiling. The glowing lichen provided minimal light— not enough to actually illuminate the room, but enough for him to see the silhouettes of objects.
Dumb scanned for a second, two, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, then he saw it.
Stormz sitting down, leaning against the wall, mouth agape, chest rising slower as each second passed. It sounded like he was wheezing, desperate for air. His face had a slight greyish-blue tint from the lack of oxygen— or was it from the weird lighting of the lichen? It was hard to tell from the lack of light, save for the one small light source they had, but even that barely emitted any light.
Around inside the cave was a mess as well; an enderchest knocked over with shulkers messily placed down, rummaged through, clearly in a hurry as there were scattered shards of glass and a mixture of thick substance crawling on the rough surface of the flooring. It was clear that everything that happened was caught in a rush, barely any thought process was given amidst everything.
Stormz looked like a mess too; dark red blood that had been oxidised for a prolonged time scattered across his whole figure—his wings, his clothes, his hair, nothing was left to spare. His hair was a tangled mess too, and his wings were unpreened for god knows how long, neglected to the worst it could get.
Dumb recalled that he had tried to offer to preen them for him but Stormz would always reject it and say it was ‘useless’ and a waste of time. But Dumb knew damn well that his wings were uncomfy even if his own didn’t have feathers like his. Even by the looks of it, Dumb knew Stormz was just too wallowed up in his own pride to accept help on something as simple as self care when he could do it himself— which he never did, but he always claimed he did to distract everyone else away from that thought.
Considering Stormz’s currently degrading health conditions, he was suffering from hypoxia and Dumb had minutes to get him to the surface before Stormz would suffocate fully in the poorly ventilated caverns— and so he worked fast.
He rushed towards his friend, inspecting him for a few seconds. Stormz’s skin felt like it was freezing even if Dumb’s body was supposedly colder than the latter. The heat from Stormz had dissipated a while ago— if he was left here for any longer, he would’ve been a goner. If it weren’t for his slowly rising and falling chest and his weak pulse that was weak and barely there, Dumb would’ve prepared a burial for Stormz right now.
Dumb tried to shake him awake, to get even a small ‘hey’ as a response, but Stormz didn’t bat an eye, his body was as limp as it could be, vulnerable and prone to every attack.
He checked his friend’s body for any serious external wounds— anything that might’ve needed immediate attention, but thankfully there were barely any scratches to begin with. He had already healed himself beforehand, which was a good thing. At least Stormz was still in the right state of mind and took care of his wounds before they got worse.
Dumb stood up, wrapping Stormz’s arm around his neck and setting one of his under his friend’s to balance him upright, hoisting the deadweight up as he struggled to keep himself upright— his knees buckled under the weight and the pressure of his friend’s life being on the line, but he still tried to heft him up and brace him against his side.
Though, surely enough, with patience and the assertion of most if not all of Dumb’s strength, he managed to get Stormz’s arm around his neck, the latter’s wings tucked behind his back, careful to not twist the feathery wings in a painful way. Stormz wasn’t exactly hoisted up properly, but he didn’t trust himself to backpack carry him— he didn’t want to risk losing his balance and fall face first or crack the latter’s head open by accidentally dropping him on the rough surface.
Stormz’s feet still dragged across the rough flooring even if Dumb didn’t want it to— but there was no point in dwelling over something so little. A few scratches could easily be tended to with a small dab of regeneration on the surface of it, no big deal. And even if it ended up to be more than small cuts on the epidermis, it’ll still heal as time goes on.
The more they walked in the caverns, the more it felt like the darkness was engulfing them, consuming them both and leaving behind nothing but their bones as evidence of their existence. Every turn felt like it brought them deeper, every breath felt like it was damper than the previous one. It was mildly easier to navigate through the cave systems before because he had an actual light source, but now all he had was his shitty vision that he can barely see in the dark with, fully relying on shapes and the slight change in contrast.
The moss was starting to become unbearable, the humid air felt suffocating rather than refreshing, the smell of decaying corpses was more prominent down here due to the poor ventilation it has. Each breath he took felt more and more pungent, a slight tang forming in the back of his tongue from how much he inhaled.
Bumping into walls, almost dropping Stormz off an overpass that led further down into the caves, one by one he narrowly escaped killing them both. Dragging around an unconscious human body while navigating through somewhere you aren’t familiar with was definitely not on his bucket list for this year, but now it feels like he should’ve added it so that he could cross it out.
Darkness veiled almost everything, coating them in a tint that made color unrecognisable, covering rodents from being exposed from their hiding spots in the corner of the caves. All of the previously familiar checkpoints he mentally made in his head?
Gone.
Everything felt familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. It felt like he was moving in circles and blindly following whatever felt right— which, to his own disappointment, nothing felt right in a way. Every turn just felt wrong in some sense, it was like his mind was purposely disorienting his sense of direction as time passed by. Which he found very fucking annoying.
The tunnels started narrowing down at some point— it was getting increasingly harder to brace Stormz against his side as he dragged along the dead weight with him. It felt like the cave was closing in on itself— at one point, he had hooked his arms under Stormz’s and dragged him like a limp ragdoll until they reached the end of the tunnel before hoisting him back up and hefting him against his side. Even if the hallways were getting narrower and trying to move around without scraping any parts of their body felt impossible, Dumb was determined to bring them both out alive.
The cave felt like an actual maze; he couldn’t see anything when it was veiled by the darkness, every turn felt like he was going in a loop and every place he ended up in, he felt like he was stuck in a sense of familiarity that wasn’t all that real— it's not like he could tell much, the darkness was maddening and it felt disorienting the longer he stayed down there.
Dumb could technically create a tunnel leading up to the surface— it would’ve been much easier if he did it from the start, but having to drag a body alone the way? It just didn’t feel professional and definitely wasn’t gonna be the easiest task, especially not when it took almost all of his strength to prop him up, much less balance himself while dragging Stormz’s limp body up a
But what choice did he have? The cave system felt endless and it felt like he had been walking in circles for eternity. Every step he took felt like he was walking for hundreds of kilometers, every minute spent down there felt longer than it actually was— there was no way to tell time down in the caves, it could’ve been hours for all they knew. Staying down there was maddening, and so he’ll make an effort to get them both out.
Setting Stormz aside, propped against a wall, specially careful on his wings— they were a very sensitive part of his body despite all the neglect Stormz gives them. He got to work quickly— mining away the stone, chiseling through them until they give out and collapse, creating a tunnel width just enough for a person to walk through.
He kept going, repeating the actions of chiseling away the stone and digging out any loose gravel. By time, dust had accumulated and collected in his hair, covering it in a tint of white. His shirt was in no better of a state— specks of stone and gravel stuck onto his clothing, shading it with bits of white here and there. Debris and rubble littered across the makeshift stairway, making footing difficult and prone to slipping off.
Little by little, Stormz’s figure disappeared from sight, shrinking until all that could be seen was his pale white hair that stuck out from his whole outfit. The dark didn’t help at all in aiding his vision in the darkness— if anything, it was burdening him more.
He hit the stone surface one more time before pulling out a shovel and digging out the dirt above, shoveling through it as he restrained himself from just clawing the dirt using his claws. Rays of light seeped in little by little before it flooded the stairway, illuminating it almost instantly.
The surface broke and the fresh air outside filled his lungs, exchanging the humid air for something more refreshing. The difference between the temperature on the surface and deep in the mines weren’t too subtle— the warmth outside hit him almost instantly as he shoveled out any remaining dirt.
Dumb didn’t stay there for long, he knew Stormz was struggling trying to breathe in the damp air inside the poorly ventilated cave system, and each minute that passed by, the closer Stormz would be from suffocating due to lack of oxygen.
He rushed back down, stuffing his pickaxe onto his tool belt, close enough in case he needed to chisel away a bit more. He hurriedly walked down the steps, careful as to not slip as the steps got steeper and footing became less and less sturdy— some of the stone steps were cracked and some part of the once sturdy block was chipped and loose.
The deeper he went the more he felt the warmth leaving him— he couldn’t imagine how Stormz must’ve felt right now, stuck in his own headspace and unable to feel warmth even if he tried his hardest to feel a single spark of heat. The remaining heat he attempted to share with Stormz had long since dissipated, the low temperatures being something that was inevitable to run away from.
Dumb hooked his arms under Stormz’s own and dragged the limp body up onto the stairs, letting his legs dangle over the steps as he went up one by one, careful as to not slip. Stormz’s coat caught on the ledges of the step, slightly tearing the fabric the more it got caught on the edges.
Each step was filled with patience and determination, fueling his own resolve to bring his friend out alive. As the minutes passed by and stretched out, his arms felt like they were going weaker by the second, exhausted from asserting all of what remained of his energy. But he wasn’t going to give up, not when he was so close.
Some flowers struggle to bloom even when they’ve been fed all necessary requirements, but some still push and flourish during seasons they aren’t supposed to bloom in. Even if they weren’t fit for the environment and their surroundings, from determination alone they managed to blossom into something beautiful and meaningful.
And if their duo had to be assigned a flower, it would’ve been an amaryllis. A flower so beautiful when it blooms during its appropriate season, and yet still holding a meaningful symbol that pictured their parallels in the loveliest way possible. Amaryllises were known for how it managed to bloom in the cold winter environment, blossoming from its bare bulbs, still sturdy and holding its resilience despite facing harsh obstacles, defying the freezing temperature that came with the season.
It was a flower that by now has bloomed in Dumb’s heart, deeply rooted in his soul, a symbol that he carried with him everywhere, and he was going to prove that he is as determined as he says.
A repeating process of thug and pull, climbing up a step each time— countless times he lost his footing and slipped slightly, but he paid no mind. He continued on dragging Stormz’s limp body with all his remaining strength, trying his best to not let either his legs or arms give out under the pressure.
And with enough patience and a strong will of determination, he finally brought Stormz back to the surface. The warmth of the sun littered against both their skin, heating them up after their endeavour underground. Fresh air finally invaded Dumb’s lungs once more, exchanging it for the disgusting humid air he was forced to breathe in.
He plopped onto the ground, laying in the grass, watching it ripple slightly before he prompted to close his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun that he longed for.
Stormz was laid down flat on his back right beside him, he too was inhaling the fresh oxygen, albeit weakly and barely sucking in each breath long enough for the oxygen to reach his brain. Each rise and fall of his chest was shallow and rushed; each inhale felt too short and each exhale felt elongated, following with a short pause in between each breath.
Each pause of breath felt longer than the one before, Dumb realised. Stormz’s breathing was getting shallower by the minute despite the air being much fresher. His lips were a pale tint of blue, the hue just shy of making its appearance. His skin was slightly paler too, it was cold to touch and felt clammy against skin.
At one point, Stormz’s chest rose and didn’t come back up.
Dumb turned around, facing his unconscious friend. He pushed himself to a sitting position, reaching out and pressing his index and middle finger against the carotid nerve on Stormz’s neck— it gave out a weak pulse. Much weaker than it should’ve been, and it was weakening by the second. He could feel his heart dropping to his stomach, he was slowly losing his friend despite all his efforts— it wasn’t enough.
“Stormz, dude, wake up,” Dumb tried to shake him awake, swaying the latter’s body slightly— but his friend gave not a single response, still limp and unconscious.
Clarity hit him faster than he would’ve liked, he propped himself up to position, knees just barely nudging the side of Stormz’s arm, body angled above his friend, back straightening, hinging at his hips. His shoulders squared, elbows locked. He interlaced his fingers together and positioned them on top of the lower half of his friend’s sternum, digging the heel of his hand into the center of his chest. He calmed himself down mentally, grounding himself back to reality.
It’d be okay, Stormz will be fine.
Dumb pressed his hands down, pushing down two inches down. A snap could be heard, but he continued with the compressions, keeping track of count inside his head, focusing solely on giving CPR. Every push was precise, not too deep, yet not too shallow, and just fast enough, following the beat per minute he had set in his mind.
Every thirtieth compression he stops, tilting Stormz’s head back, chin up in the air, pinching his nose. He pushed in a breath, two, into the latter’s mouth, providing smooth air flowing into his lungs. He watched as his chest rose, albeit slightly, but it rose in the slightest and deflated once more.
Fingers pressed against the artery, Stormz’s pulse was slightly better now, though his breathing was still uneven. With his chin still tilted up, Dumb gave one last rescue breath, sealing his mouth with his own, pushing air into his systems and watching his chest rise and fall.
And after a moment, Stormz finally started breathing normally again, though still unconscious. His skin had regained its color and the pale blue tint had dissipated, the oxygenated blood finally flowing into his organs and distributed throughout his whole body. Dumb lets out a sigh of relief, relaxation finally settling in his body once more.
He lay on his side, facing the still conscious Stormz, he watched carefully on his breathing patterns in case it falters once more.
But it doesn’t.
Stormz was still unconscious, but he was breathing properly for the first time in probably two hours. And Dumb was grateful he managed to find his friend even if he was in a state almost beyond resurrection.