“No no no no, come on Mae, c’mon you stubborn broad don’t you dare… Fuck.” Tracy whimpered as she scrambled across the floor to cradle Mae’s face. She could feel the blood, almost dry sticking to her palms. She knew she should have taken this job instead, or at least helped. She got too busy and it was too out of the way… And a million more useless excuses, now. All that mattered was what was in front of her.
Mae, on the ground. Still. Cold.
The blood seeped onto Tracy as she pulled Mae into her lap, gently cupping her face. “Hey, c’mon now…” She was so cold and so pale… The wound on her throat slashed deep, had Tracy not been holding her head, it may have slipped clean off. Her bindings had created sickly bruises around her wrists, keeping blood in only those appendages… Only those which she had left, anyways. This gang never wanted to keep her alive, only to get what she knew. She is- was a courier, what could she have possibly known that would have been worth this? Torture? She wept quietly.
In the morning, she dug a grave, solid and deep. A short ceremony, attended by only a courier and her horse. Tracy would ride back to Salome that day to let Mayor Delphine know what had happened, collect her pay, and desperately hope her next job was eradicating the bastards who had done this from the face of the earth. No more tears.
