We All Have Scars

8

I woke up to a pounding pain in my head. When I tried to rub the sore part, I felt my wrists restricted by something sticky. Tape. Suddenly I panicked, I tried kicking out with my legs, but they were bound too. Letting out a small whimper of defeat, I stopped my thrashing and slowed my breathing. I had to think methodically about this. Otherwise... I don't want to think about that.

"Hello?" I whispered, peering into the darkness. No response. "Hello?" I called, louder this time. But only silence greeted me.

A tear fell from the corner of my eye. This was all my fault. If I had just gone back to the others to tell them, or had gone with someone so they at least knew where I was, everything wouldn't be so bad. But I had to be stupid and reckless.

I kicked out in frustration, causing my chair to topple, me along with it. In the dim light I could make out something in front of me. Directly next to my face was a corpse's face, its cold, dead eyes staring back at me. I let out an ear-piercing scream that surely everyone would hear. But I didn't care. I let out another scream, quieter this time. I continued screaming until my voice went hoarse, and a faint whisper was all that was left.

I tried shutting my eyes so I wouldn't see it, but the image was imprinted in my mind. Despite being a Crank, I hadn't actually dealt with a lot of death. Real death anyway. And especially not week old corpses, with parts of the flesh rotting away.

That helped me make my mind up, I had to get out. No matter what. Rolling around, I tried to get back up. Eventually I succeeded, and all four chair legs were flat on the ground. I put the weight of myself and the chair onto my feet, and started slamming the chair into the ground repeatedly to break it. After about five or so try's, the chair broke, sending splinters of wood flying. I used the splintered wood to slip my hands out of the tape, then unwrapped the tape around my ankles.

Next was getting past the door. But first I had to find it. Waving my arms in front of me, I searched for the door, or a light switch. When I found the wall, I moved along it, running my hands across the cold surface in hope of finding something. I was about to give up, when I found the door. I tried turning the door knob, but it was locked.

"Dammit!" I exclaimed, before pulling on the door, trying to force it open, but it wouldn't budge. I slumped down to the ground in tears. After everything that had happened, this was how I was going to die? Being locked up in a cupboard filled with corpses and darkness, all alone? I let the tears fall, not caring about acting tough anymore. I was going to die anyway. My tears became more than just about my current situation, they were now about everything; my dad, my mom, what my life had become. They just spilled out of me, a river of tears.

A commotion broke out above. Hard thumps on the ceiling, followed by a couple of screams. But I still continued crying. Then it sounded like a hundred people running. Frantic footsteps, jumping, more thumps. More screams.

The sounds of fighting and rumbling suddenly stopped. I didn't care though, and did nothing.

(Newt P.O.V!!!)

Me, Jorge and Aris were standing guard, slowly turning in circles with knives drawn and pointing.

A familiar voice called out in excitement. "What happened to you guys? Where have you been?"

"Hey, it's Thomas!" Frypan roared. "As ugly and alive as ever!"

I went up to Thomas, and gave him a sincere smile. "Glad you're not bloody dead, Tommy. I'm really, really glad."

"You too. Has everyone made it so far? Where'd you guys go? How'd you get here?"

I nodded. "Still eleven of us. Plus Jorge."

Thomas's questions came faster than anyone could bloody answer. "Any sign of Barkley and the rest of them? Were they the ones who set off the explosion?"

Jorge answered- he was stood closest to the door, holding a very nasty-looking sword that was currently resting on the shoulder of a Crank. "Haven't seen 'em since. We got away pretty quickly, and they're too scared to come deeper into the city."

I looked around to make sure everyone was still here. Isobel was missing. Didn't Minho find her with the others?

"Minho," I said. "Where's Isobel?"

Minho shrugged.

"You mean she wasn't there?"

"Only Thomas, and Brenda."

"Bloody hell. That means she's still in there. You didn't even think to look?"

"Hey, I found Thomas, that's our priority." Minho defended.

"What a load of klunk." I said and limped down the stairs.

I listened for any sign of her. Faintly, I could hear crying from behind a door. "Isobel?"

The crying stopped. The person sniffled. "Who is that?"

"It's me, Newt. I'm gonna get ya out of there. Okay? Stand back."

I heard footsteps moving away from the door. Then I rammed myself into the door. Again, and again. The door gave in after a few more try's.

"Thank you!" Isobel rushed at me with a hug. I was taken aback, and took a while to respond and put my arms around her.

"It's okay." I chuckled.

"No, really. And...please forget about the umm... crying thing, please."

"Forget about what?" I asked, and she smiled the most genuine smile I had seen on her. "C'mon, we need to go." I led her up the stairs, and as soon as she caught sight of Brenda, she ran up to her, smiling.

"Brenda!" She she called, and they hugged briefly. I grinned at the sight.

"Hey, Newt!" Minho yelled. "Dude, wake up! We're leaving!"

I waited alongside Minho and Jorge, keeping guard with our weapons until everyone was out.

Everyone gathered in the alley away from the stairs.

"We're going to have to make a run for it." Minho said. There's only about a mile left," Minho continued. "These Cranks aren't so hard to fight after all. So let's-"

"Hey!"

The shout came from behind us, loud and screechy, filled with more than a hint of lunacy. We spun around to see a Crank standing down on the bottom step, by the open door, his arm extended. His white-knuckled fingers held a bloody gun, surprisingly steady and calm. It was pointed directly at Thomas.

Before anyone could move, he fired, an explosion that rocked the narrow alley with a thunderous boom. The bullet found its home in Thomas's left shoulder.

A/N: Hey guys!!! Sorry that chapter took so long. I've been really busy, and by the time I nearly finished writing chapter eight, I changed my mind about it, and wrote this one instead. Thanks for reading!!!

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Thanks again!!!😄