Death

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Fuck.

It was bad. It was really, really bad. He had no idea how he found himself in this shitty situation, but since he did, he had to somehow get out of it. Rather fucking immediately. Which was fairly challenging with a long-ass knife impaled all the way through thick layers of muscles of his throbbing right thigh. Upon every slightest movement, he could feel the blade graze his bone. It was disgusting. Almost as sickening as the idea of dying such humiliating death - executed in some dark, obscure alley after getting stabbed by a corpse who turned out not to be one. He knew he was due for his luck to run out, but man, why like that. Fuck. His end should have been grand, heroic, unforgettable, not a pathetic, avoidable accident. If he only wasn't so reckless...

-Need help?

A female voice coming from his left made him violently shiver. He quickly turned his head towards the sound source, gun in his hand, just in case. If the person was hostile, he would have been long gone. A middle-height, skinny woman was leaning on the wall a few meters behind him, seemingly unarmed, her eyes focused on the entrance to the alley. She indeed appeared not to be an enemy, but how the fuck did he not notice someone approaching him?! What the fuck was going on with him today?! He has never been so careless. Never.

-Leave me alone. -he barked, not keen on getting assistance from a stranger on an unfriendly territory. The woman only snorted and pushed herself up to step closer, making him tighten the grip on the weapon. -I don't need your help.

-Your leg does. -she said calmly, with a thick accent. -You won't be able to put your weight on it and if you take the knife out, you risk arterial bleeding. Do you want to die, or can you shove your pride aside and let me help? -the woman asked, moving so close, he could see her black eyes in the weak glow of the moon.

-There are people...chasing after me. You can't help me. -he whispered, beginning to feel dread creep up on him. Subconsciously, he has always considered himself to be invincible, but now? He could taste the mortality. In a few minutes he could be dead, his body left to rot far away from home, completely alone. He didn't want to die alone. Not anymore.

-Of everyone in this forsaken by gods place, I am the only one who can help you. If you are willing to accept it, that is. What do you say?

He didn't ask how was she planning on helping him. Hell, he didn't even ask for her name. What was the point anyway? He was too close to death to care. When he nodded, she silently assisted him with standing up. She wrapped her arm around his broad back to allow his body to put some weight on her, instead of the injured leg. He was impressed by how strong she was after they managed to easily take a few steps forward. The pain wasn't even that bad, he noticed, most likely numbed by the raging adrenaline rush.

-Take off the mask and any identifying patches from your clothes. -she ordered as they suddenly stopped at the alley's opening. His eyes went wide open. What? -Do it or die.

Like a good, obedient soldier he was, he removed the face cover and the flags from the arm and the bulletproof vest. The woman threw them into the nearby bin before they proceeded onto the street. They slowly moved towards the residential area, both extremely vigilant. There was no conversation between them, just comfortable silence and full focus on the mission - getting to safety. When he started to think this may actually work, a car engine could be heard approaching. The woman quickly pushed him towards the wall and stepped in front of him, covering with her body the knife sticking out of his leg. She grabbed the man's hair and pulled his face down. Their lips were almost touching when the car stopped, a loud "ahem" interrupted the scene. The woman turned to the soldier sitting in the vehicle, her brown curls hid the maskless man's face. She said something in a foreign language that made the enemy respond rather nervously and drive away in a hurry.

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