The vial flies from Yelena's hand, shattering against the wall behind her - and that wall is still too close, but it's no longer moving. The space is no longer shrinking.
"This is the last one. The End. It's one of us or all of us, and I was the only reasonable choice."
She trusts Winter to push on, trusts the three of them to keep each other moving, to not succumb to the horrors of the house an the Entities out of rage, or grief, or vengeance. She cannot, quite, trust that any other configuration would work.
The walls aren't moving any more, but the room still feels too warm. She sways a little, lightheaded, and lifts a hand to wipe away the sweat trickling down her forehead. When she brings her hand down, though, it isn't sweat. It's blood, seeping from her pores, from the corners of her eyes and the edges of her nails.
"Oh," she says, small and almost surprised - that it's this, that she's dying bloody but solid, that anything might remain when she's gone - before her knees buckle.
cw: poison, suicide, massive bleeding
"This is the last one. The End. It's one of us or all of us, and I was the only reasonable choice."
She trusts Winter to push on, trusts the three of them to keep each other moving, to not succumb to the horrors of the house an the Entities out of rage, or grief, or vengeance. She cannot, quite, trust that any other configuration would work.
The walls aren't moving any more, but the room still feels too warm. She sways a little, lightheaded, and lifts a hand to wipe away the sweat trickling down her forehead. When she brings her hand down, though, it isn't sweat. It's blood, seeping from her pores, from the corners of her eyes and the edges of her nails.
"Oh," she says, small and almost surprised - that it's this, that she's dying bloody but solid, that anything might remain when she's gone - before her knees buckle.