Dustin stomped on through the cabin, stopping by at Mike's room. He gently lays her down onto the bed, making sure to lay her head down slowly. A whole pack of footsteps followed behind the man, peeking over his shoulder. "What happened? Where were you?" Tifa tries to ask Dustin - he ignores her and says "Mike! Get over here" he shouts at the doctor.

  "Hey I'm talking to you, you're NOT our leader." Tifa tells Dustin into his ear. "Not now. If you want to have a discussion, do it when you've calmed yourself." He speaks to her.

  Tifa scoffs at him and walks back to the main area of the cabin, she sits down on a random chair. For a few minutes, chatter filled the cabin, people came and went trying to help Angela's wounds - but Tifa stayed put, the commotion did not disturb her thoughts. The thoughts which had been ricocheting inside her mind since what happened were much louder than what is currently going on, all she could do was take it in, absorbing what her mind was telling her. She had went into a sort of trance for a moment, before a sudden quietness erupted in the cabin. She opened an eye and looked on to the far side of the cabin, trying to peer at whatever's just happened.

  "Hey" Rita calmly utters at Tifa, placing her hand on her forearm. Her arm slightly jumps, turning her head at Rita she said "ahh.. its you.. im sorry.."

  "Don't worry, Angela is going to be fine" - Rita says.

  Tifa takes a deep breath through her nostrils and out her mouth "that's good. That's good. I'm glad".

  "It all happened so fast, you know i had to Tifa." Rita tells to the exausted Tifa.

  "Its.. fine. Ill talk to him, everything will sort itself." Tifa says, Rita pats Tifa on the shoulder and walks off to her room.

  Tifa raises her hand toward her face and it begins to shake. Shake uncontrollably. She attempts to hold her hand still but it isn't enough, it vibrates her whole body. "I need to get away from here."

  A few hours later...

  Dustin and Rita walk into the main room, chatting amongst themselves. "Its one problem after another." Rita proclaims. "Yeah. The suppies are about finished. We won't hold out much longer at this rate." Dustin answers. "And livestock is out of the question." Rita tells Dustin, face in her hand. "We'll figure something out, we can't have your skills be going to waste." Dustin says, looking at Rita - she exhales out her nostrils at the statement.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  Mid conversation, Dustin looks out the window. Jimmy stood there glaring at him from afar with a stick in hand "whats up with the boy?" Dustin asks. "He still hasn't accepted Mockley's death i reckon, and he isnt the only one." Rita tells Dustin. "There will come a day where they'll all have to."

  Moments later, Dustin tells her he needs a moment alone. He trudged on to his chambers, and sat down on the bed. He leans down, reaching for an object beneath his bed. He pulled it out by the tip of his fingers, a light bounces off the pointy silver edge. He had pulled a knife out from under his bed and started to play with it. Twirling it between his fingers, testing the sharpness and cutting his nails. He looks on at the knife, seeing his eyes reflection. He then sets the knife to his side and leans over to the drawer. opening it - inside were a few bottles, bandages, medication and some papers. Shuffling closer to the drawer, he pulls out a few items from within. Setting down a small unknown bottle on his pillow and a long stream of bandages. He takes the bandage, bunches it up and stuffs it into his mouth, and grabs ahold of the knife once again.

  A few calm breaths in and out "i have to." He whispers to himself, multiple times, Staring at the knifes edge.

  Lining the blade up at the base of his pinky finger - he slowly closes his eyes. And once again, breathe. He continues to breathe, the edge pushing into his skin. His breath begins to become all that he hears, not even the whistling of the wind can disrupt him. A few more seconds of breathing pass and- one swift motion. "Grghhhhhhhh" Dustin's pinky floats down onto the wooden flooring - the continuous blood stream following along. He grits his teeth into one end of the bandage and watches as the blood from his body escapes him.

  Chuck the knife onto the far end of the bed and tends to his wound. Making sure to wrap it as best as possible - as to stop the bleeding. His panting breath and beating heart had slowly leveled and he still sat, holding his pinky-less hand. He exhales deeply again and leans down, reaching his hand out to his severed pinky. He brings it up to eye level and examines it, closely.

  "It's done... its done... i can get used to this. Haha"