#a terrible horrible no good very bad day
Day 16: A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
https://archiveofourown.org/works/26748730/chapters/66022876
Prompt: A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day; Forced to Beg, Hallucinations, Shoot the Hostage
Fandom/OC: Original Work
TW: swearing, dehumanization, death mention, knives, blood, child abuse, guns, broken bones
The Whumpee slams their car into park after they pull it to a stop outside of a country field. They’re late and don’t trust that they haven’t been followed, so time is of the essence as they climb out and rush towards the planned meeting spot. An enormous and conspicuous tree stands in the centre of a farmer’s field, a barn and property not too far in the distance but far enough away that their rendezvous won’t be seen. The Whumpee sees the outline of someone waiting for them. It’s just their silhouette visible in the glow of the setting sun, and the Whumpee relinquishes their paranoia that it might not be their friend when they get close enough to confirm that it is. It is only when they are face to face when they realize that their friend is crying. The Whumpee skips saying hello or asking what the matter is, and they go right to grabbing their friend and pull them in for a kiss, their hands desperately pulling the two of them as close as can be. They pull back and lower their hands to squeeze their friend’s shoulders, “Come on, we have to go.” Their friend still cries, and can’t lift their eyes to match the Whumpee’s. “I’m so sorry,” they say, and speaking the words themselves seems to cause them even more sorrow. “I’m so, so, sorry.” The Whumpee’s eyes dart between their friend’s as they struggle to understand. “Why?” they ask, to no response. The Whumpee shakes their friend’s shoulders again to try and elicit a real answer. “Why!” Their friend finally answers. “I told them,” they say quietly. “They’ll be here any second.” The Whumpee backs away, a pit now dug deep within their stomach, as they turn around to go back to their car. There is now another car parked next to theirs, with someone exiting it and approaching from the road. They turn around and see over their friend’s shoulder someone walking towards them from the farmhouse as well. The Whumpee feels like a trapped animal as the Whumper’s men close in on them. They can barely register how their friend drops to their knees and tugs at their clothes as they beg, “Please. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry.” The Whumpee looks down at them, then at the horizon where the sun finally sets behind it. It is gone after a long descent in the sky like an eye slowly closing to welcome sleep. “At least it’s over,” they say absently, feeling the chill of the night hit them all at once with the sun gone.
