Subdue-X

A Lacking God

Two silhouettes appeared on the horizon line, some were exiting the jet hanger, growing larger with each passing second. My heart pounded as I scrambled to my feet, Christian pulling me up in a rough, sudden motion. We were filthy, sweat and grime caking our skin. His grip on my arm was bruising, his breathing heavy. He glanced down at me, his voice edged with disbelief. “I’m shocked he sent you.”

Pin. Of course, he was talking about Pin. I shrugged, forcing down the sickening knot in my stomach. “He knew I’d go anyway.”

The sky was dark, a haunting mix of purple and blue, casting everything around us in shadow. The world had lost its depth, the contours of reality smoothed over by the sinking sun. We moved quickly, but our pursuers were gaining. I could hear their footsteps, the crunch of gravel growing louder. I prayed for something to distract us from the inevitable, whether it be another stranger or the pursuers getting a phone call. We were nearing the building around the airport, the distant hum of life inside barely audible over the sound of our ragged breathing.

We rounded a corner, Christian’s face tight with frustration, nostrils flaring as he realized the mistake. “No bullets,” he muttered, pulling the revolver from his waistband. 

A bitter smirk twisted his lips, he must've been certain, he never checked the chamber, tucking the useless weapon back into his waistband. “Nothing,” he repeated, shaking his head, his voice low and edged with disbelief. He glanced at me again, his eyes flicking over my face, and I could see it—the creeping realization that we had no options left.

Dread washed over me, cold and suffocating. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. My pulse raced, and I glanced at Christian, his face hard but exhausted. There was nowhere left to go. No way out. We had taken the wrong turn. The shadows of our pursuers grew longer, edging closer. I locked eyes with him, my gaze frantic. I could see it—this could be the end for us both.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped, his voice wavering as panic flickered in his eyes. He didn’t want me to see it, didn’t want me to witness his fear.

At that moment, the world felt like it was spinning out of control. My chest tightened, and before I could think, before I could even stop myself, I stood on my toes, pressing my lips against his.

It was desperate. Out of nowhere. And completely insane.

He jerked, surprised at first, but then he was there, meeting me with equal force, as though the madness of our situation had finally overtaken him too. His hand buried itself in my hair, tugging roughly as he angled my head, deepening the kiss. It wasn’t sweet or soft—it was raw, filthy, and chaotic. Our bodies were bruised, dirty, and slick with sweat. His fingers dug into the back of my neck, holding me in place as if this kiss was the only thing keeping him standing.

In the distance, the voices of our pursuers grew louder, echoing off the walls, but we didn’t care. We pressed our backs against the rough brick, breaking apart for a split second only to crash back into each other. It felt reckless, stupid, like something out of a terrible movie where the protagonists make out during a battle. But this wasn’t about love—it was about giving up. Giving in. We didn’t care anymore.

His hands roamed down my sides, gripping my hips, pulling me closer. My fingers tangled in his hair, dirt and blood smearing across his neck as I held onto him like he was the last piece of sanity I had left. The world around us was collapsing, but for a brief, fleeting moment, none of it mattered. We were losing everything, risking it all—not for love, but because we were tired. Tired of running. Tired of fighting. Tired of pretending we cared about what happened next.

The sunset had disappeared, swallowed by the encroaching night. Shadows blurred into one another, and we were lost in them. His lips were harsh, his breath heavy, and I could feel the tremble in his muscles, the tension in his body. We were both on the edge, teetering between survival and surrender. I could taste the salt of sweat, the grit of dust between us, and still, we didn’t stop.