Work Text:
The raven-haired guitarist stared at the blond sprawled on the decrepit mattress, his slender, lifeless body leaking blood that stained his clothes, the bedding, and the walls. Beside him lay the rifle his bandmate had used to end it all.
Impassive, the guitarist fetched a camera, returned, and photographed the corpse. All to heighten the black metal savagery in these now-possessed images.
He lingered, gazing at the body.
Then, a sudden stomach churn doubled him over, worsening with each glance. Resentment? Shame for failing to save him?
One final look. Voice cracking with faint regret, murmuring weakly: "I failed you."