No Requiems Left

Bill and the Gas Station Meltdown

As Charlie's breathing hitched in his throat and he looked down at his palms, the once pale skin was stained red with Nico's blood pouring from his fingertips. The trembling made the blood drip down and create a flower effect on the cracks of the cobblestone. "What the fuck did you do?" Ashley cried out, staring at Charlie as if he belonged in a madhouse. He stared at her, breathing unevenly as tears threatened to prick at his eyes.

"I-it was an accident." He whimpered out. "He came at me... I Just wanted him to sto-" he assured as he tried to step closer to his peers, who quickly stepped away from him, giving looks of confusion and fear.

"Shut up you psychopath! The cops are coming." She sneered before letting out a sob and kneeling over Nicolas. "Nico..?" she whispered before whipping her eyes. "I-I think he's dead." Before Charlie could even register what he had done, he grabbed his bag and ran for the backyard gate, shoving past wasted bystanders. Any essence of alcohol still in his system had worn off, making him feel sober with just a dash of haziness blocking his path. He ran and ran until he collapsed on the side of a street he didn't recognize. Rain setting in as a shower, until it poured. He sat in the street's ditch and he let out a sob, and then a hurricane came from his eyes, camouflaged by the rain.

"Fuck-" he whimpered as he watched the rain water wash over his hands, leaving a watered down reddish tint over his palms. He whipped at his eyes, that were swollen and dry. He still couldn't process it.

Nico's knife in his hand, Charlie's palms pushing him, the knife in Nico's stomach, Charlie trying to help. He had killed him. Charlie had been threatened by Nico before, even had the knife to his neck before, but Nico always backed down, Charlie knew he should have just let him have his fun. Nico probably wouldn't have even cut him, just pretended to. He was power hungry, not a sadist.

He let out a final deep breath before standing and looking down the street, he decided to just keep walking straight and hopefully find his way home or to a police station to turn himself in. He walked straight for about 20 minutes in the pouring rain before a set of headlights pulled over in front of him.

"Hey, kid, are you alright?" A voice rang out in the misty downpour.

"Yeah." He said shakily before squinting threw the dark to try to see the man who had pulled over.

"Look, there ain't nothing for miles and it doesn't sit right with me letting a kid walk around out at night during a thunderstorm. Climb into my truck. Can I give you a ride home or something?" The man asked as Charlie got closer to what seemed like an umbrella. He opened it and held it over Charlie's head, carefully leading him towards the passenger side. Charlie was smarter than to get into a car with a stranger, but in his case, he was so dazed and mentally drained that he did as he was told. He was relieved to be out of the rain and once the car door was shut he leaned his head against the window.

"Do you live around here? Or can I drop you off somewhere?" The man asked, looking over at Charlie. The boy didn't answer, he just kept his head against the window. The man gave out a heavy sigh before rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm William, but you can call me Bill. You got a name?"

Charlie thought for a minute before pushing his sopping bangs to the side and whipping the water off of his face. "..." he was about to say his real name, but he realized that he was a criminal and he didn't feel like going back out into the rain. "Chris." He answered softly before finally getting a good look at the man. He seemed to be middle aged, beer-belly, early balding in the back of his ashy hair and a badly trimmed beard that left parts of his chin scratched up.