First Blood
Alex sat near the edge of the camp, staring out into the forest, the sounds of the others' movements distant in her mind. Her thoughts were still consumed by the recent confrontation with Claire and the others, their accusations ringing in her ears. The tension hadn't fully broken since she and Ethan had returned, and every glance, every word felt like another barb aimed at her.
They didn't trust her, not fully. And now, with the possibility of a traitor in their midst, it only made things worse. But Ethan... Ethan had given her something to hold on to. His belief in her, quiet but firm, was the only thing keeping her tethered to the group.
Still, something gnawed at her insides—the feeling that danger was creeping closer with every breath. And she was right.
A rustling in the bushes just beyond the camp sent her hand flying to the knife at her waist. Her pulse quickened, her muscles tensing. She waited, watching the shadowy figures just beyond the tree line.
The scout team returned to the camp, but their expressions were grim. Something had gone wrong.
"They're here," one of the scouts whispered, loud enough for those closest to hear. "They've been tracking us this whole time."
Alex's heart sank. The rival faction. They hadn't given up.
The group quickly gathered around, their murmurs filled with nervous energy. They were outnumbered, underprepared. Alex's mind raced, trying to think of a plan, but before she could speak, one of the scouts let out a yell.
"They're coming!"
Chaos erupted. A flurry of movement and shouts filled the air as the group scrambled to arm themselves. Alex's body moved on instinct, grabbing her makeshift weapons and scanning the surroundings for an opening to defend their camp.
She felt Ethan's presence beside her, his face set in determination, but there was a shadow of something else—doubt. She could sense it, even if he didn't say anything. But now wasn't the time to focus on that. Survival came first.
The enemy hit fast and hard, bursting from the trees like a wave of shadows. Blades clashed, and screams of both the living and dying filled the night air. Alex found herself face-to-face with one of the attackers, a masked figure swinging wildly at her. She dodged the blow, her heart hammering in her chest as she parried with her knife, pushing the attacker back.
The skirmish was brutal, messy. People she had come to trust, if only tentatively, were falling all around her, and the attackers were relentless. It felt like the world had shrunk down to the edge of her blade and the weight of her survival instincts.
And then she saw it—across the camp, one of their own was standing with the enemy, shouting orders. Claire.
The traitor.
Her mind went blank for a split second. Claire had been the one leading the accusations, the one planting seeds of doubt in everyone's minds. And now, here she was, fighting alongside the rival faction, her true colors laid bare.
Alex's blood boiled. She could barely comprehend what she was seeing. All this time, Claire had been playing them, manipulating them. And now, people were dying because of her.
Rage took over, blinding her to everything else. She broke into a run, weaving through the chaos, her focus locked on Claire. The world around her seemed to fade, and all that remained was the target in front of her.
"Alex, wait!" Ethan's voice called out behind her, but she didn't stop.
Claire turned just as Alex reached her, but she wasn't fast enough. Alex tackled her to the ground, knocking the weapon from Claire's hand. The two of them struggled, rolling through the dirt, each trying to gain the upper hand.
"I knew you were behind this!" Alex spat, her voice raw with anger. "You're the traitor!"
Claire's grin was twisted as she kicked Alex off her, scrambling to her feet. "You're too late, Alex. They'll never believe you now."
Alex didn't care. She lunged at Claire again, swinging her knife with a ferocity she didn't know she possessed. Claire dodged, but Alex was relentless, her strikes fueled by betrayal and rage.
Finally, Alex found an opening. Her blade connected, cutting deep into Claire's side. Claire gasped, her eyes wide with shock and pain as she stumbled backward.
Alex stood there, panting, her hand shaking as she held the knife. The world seemed to move in slow motion. Blood poured from Claire's wound, staining the ground beneath her. For a brief moment, everything was still.
Claire's legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground, her breath shallow. The realization hit Alex like a tidal wave—she had just killed someone.
Her body went numb, her mind reeling as she stared down at Claire, who was now struggling to breathe. This wasn't like defending herself against nameless attackers. This was different. She had taken a life. A life that, despite the betrayal, had once been part of her group. Someone she had fought alongside, even if only briefly.
"Alex…"
Ethan's voice pulled her out of her stupor. He was standing a few feet away, his face pale as he looked from her to Claire's body. The fighting around them had slowed, the enemy retreating after their failed ambush, but Alex couldn't focus on that.
She looked down at the blood on her hands, her chest tightening painfully. She had thought she was prepared for this world, for whatever it threw at her, but nothing had prepared her for this. For the weight of a life taken.
"I… I didn't mean to…" Alex's voice trembled as she dropped the knife, her hands shaking uncontrollably. The reality of what she had done was sinking in, and it was too much. "I didn't—"
Ethan was beside her in an instant, pulling her into his arms before she could finish the sentence. "It's okay," he whispered, holding her tightly. "You didn't have a choice."
Alex's body stiffened, but she didn't pull away. She couldn't. The numbness was spreading, threatening to consume her, and Ethan's arms were the only thing keeping her grounded. She buried her face in his chest, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of his breathing, anything to keep from thinking about what had just happened.
"I killed her," she whispered, the words barely audible. "I killed her, Ethan."
Ethan's grip tightened, his voice low and filled with emotion. "She was the traitor, Alex. She would've killed you. You had no choice."
But it didn't feel like that. It felt like something inside her had broken. She had crossed a line, one she couldn't come back from.
Tears slipped from her eyes, soaking into Ethan's shirt as she clung to him. She hadn't cried like this in years, not since everything had fallen apart. But now, in the safety of his arms, she let herself fall apart, just for a moment.
Ethan didn't say anything else, and for that, she was grateful. He just held her, his presence warm and solid as the cold night settled around them.
The others were still nearby, watching, but they seemed distant, unimportant. All that mattered was that for now, she wasn't alone. She didn't have to carry this burden on her own.
But as the tears slowed and the reality of the situation began to sink in, Alex knew things would never be the same. She had killed. And there was no going back.