Marry or Kill

29

M I N A

In the dimly lit surroundings, my shadow figure looms large in front of me, and I realize I haven't taken a moment to examine my body—how my bodysuit contours the intricacies of my form. Amid the folds of the night, I step outside the building, departing from the warmth I envision as home once this turmoil concludes.

Sol's golden hair, tied in a long ponytail, sways as she storms off into the night, the tendrils tickling the small of her back. My hand skims the guns on my belt, a subtle warning to those lingering around me, concealed beneath the veil of night.

Before I vanish into the enveloping darkness, I steal a brief glance at Elias on my right, who doesn't seem ready to part ways. His eyes, warm and inviting moments ago, now reflect a steely resolve, his features etched with a hardness I've never witnessed until today.

In that moment, his gaze speaks volumes that send a shiver down my spine. Don't get caught. It's a silent plea for my safety. I allow him to sense the softness of my face despite the fear, devastation, and anger pent in the hinge of my jaw.

The soles of my feet bounce with weightless grace as I slip away into the night, venturing towards The North, where the lands remain untamed. I run through the deserted streets, each footstep echoing in the stillness, while shadows close around me, creating an endless labyrinth.

I twist and turn through alleyways, maintaining a route with endless escape possibilities.

The soft shuffle of my own steps echoes in the eerie silence, but an unsettling awareness creeps in—the unspoken gaze of unseen eyes tracking my every move.

In the cocoon of silence and the rawness of my own tired breath, a mocking gesture of my lack of practice in fitness, a breathy voice crackles through my mic.

There's an icy facade of calmness, but from knowing Sol for a long time, there's a subtle undertone of her unease and a shift in her voice that doesn't escape my senses.

My muscles nearly clench at the sound of bullets echoing around me. "Elias, there's... there's a swarm of them from The West. A lot. We need to move—now," Sol desperately says through the mic.

"Get to the building." Elias's tone is unnervingly calm—almost too calm. A chill runs down my spine; there's an ominous weight to his calm, and I sense that something is dreadfully wrong.

In the far distance, I hear bullets bellow like a sharp crack in the night, and I know it's Elias, his killing calm and his calculated bullets.

I hear Noah's irritated voice in the crackling mic. "Quite a big ask when there's so many of them around."

As Sol's weighted words hang above me, a gunshot tears through the enchanted stillness of the night.

My breath catches in my throat, nearly choking me, and with a primal instinct, I quickly bow my head, swerving sharply into an unexpected turn. The crack of another bullet echoes, dangerously close to my feet, urging me to sprint into an uncharted alleyway—a path veering away from my planned route.

Without a second thought, I unleash a barrage of bullets in the direction I came from, hoping to stave off whatever threat lurks in the shadows. Silence blankets around me in an oppressive hush, and I mindlessly keep running into more beckoning stillness.

Ahead of me is quiet, yet something feels wrong—an itch that refuses to be ignored. My feet pause when I hear shuffling in the distance, and a deep tremor slithers up my spine.

Unsteadily, I stumble backward, watching the night as if it's going to reveal a flicker of who surrounds me.

Steadily, I hold my gun in front of me, and when I whirl around, a shadow eerily flits behind me as if it were about to lunge. With uncertainty, I squeeze the trigger with a deathly grip, twice for good measure.