Sonic the Hedgehog

Fast Escape

Opening his eyes, Sonic the Hedgehog sluggishly sits up- his protesting abdomen writhing in agony as he does so. The first thing his eyes focus on is the burn marks running across the fur of his chest. He's pulled a lot of dangerous stunts before, but nothing like this. It's thanks to fortune alone that he's currently not being consumed in oily flames.

"I guess I had a bonus life," he groans.

Dust from the undisturbed motel room fills his nostril, forcing a few weak coughs out of the weakened Mobian. The explosion left him on the carpeted floor of the rather small motel room. Right beside him, touching his left arm is the end of a single bed with messy white sheets. Whoever owned it five years prior must have unsurprisingly left in a hurry. On each of the walls is a yellow and white striped color pattern. If the window hadn't slowed his impact, Sonic's head would have faced a nasty collision with the back wall currently brushing against his quills. Positioned to the side of the front door is a small table and a coffee chair parked next to it. Above the table, dull grey sunlight shines from the shattered window and brightens the moist room.

I can't just sit here. Sonic thinks, placing a hand on his blackened fur. The others are waiting for me. We have to get that chaos emerald!

Sonic takes a sharp inhale, bracing himself for the pain sure to follow. He slowly sits up, grunting as the sharp pain across his body only intensifies. Now halfway up, next should be the easy part. He pulls his two legs back and attempts a stand. One of his knees clearly isn't a fan of the idea. It takes all the restraint one can muster not to lay back down. Now comes the hard part.

Taking the first step.

"I have to get back..." he says, lifting his left leg and applying pressure to it with one single step.

Thankfully, it doesn't hurt as bad as he anticipated. His right leg on the other hand nearly trips him over, feeling as though its fibula is no longer connected to the rest of the leg bones. It better be, for Mobius's sake. One foot after the other, Sonic crunches over the scattered glass that once belonged to the room's singular window. Pieces of it rest within the Mobian's burned fur. Eventually, he reaches the front door.

How I'll be able to fend against Eggman's forces in this state is beyond me. Sonic thinks, placing a hand on the silver door handle. But I'm sure I'll be of more use out there than lying around in here.

As if to snuff out the confidence in that statement, about three ZomBots pile into the no longer empty room not even a full second after the door opens. Sonic just narrowly misses their fateful touch by falling on his back, his legs just centimeters away from the infected Mobians. At the door, two more adult ZomBots lifelessly tumble in after the other three, hitting the floor on arrival. Sonic swipes his leg away from the quick attempt at a grab from a crawling, infected, Mobian lioness.

The only thing nullifying the hedgehog's current pain is his pure adrenaline. If there's one thing he doesn't excel at, it's closed spaces. The true tight nature of his predicament becomes even more apparent once the panicking hero backs into the wall at the end of the room. To his right is a door presumably leading to the bathroom, but the war hero knows better. ZomBots have an eternity to wait. He'll surely starve if he attempts to bunker down in there. And worse, Robotnik will succeed in getting all seven chaos emeralds. Even if his plan for them is unknown, it's obvious what it'll lead to. World domination. If he feels compelled to, on a whim, he could create more ZomBots. More innocent people could suffer like the ones in this very motel room.

That cannot happen.

This is gonna suck... Sonic thinks as he bends on one knee, his two hands on the ground.