𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬//𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐊𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐙

𝐅𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

☆𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕☆

I lied down, resting my head against Alessandro's chest, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall as he breathed. It had been months, though honestly, I had lost count, the days just kind of blurred all together. Alessandro's great-uncle, Fern, had taken us into his underground bunker, providing us with the necessities: running water, three meals a day, and card games for entertainment. The confinement within these four walls had stretched the days endlessly, but Alessandro's presence had been my saving grace, preventing me from absolutely losing my mind.

With the tip of my finger, I traced the lines of Alessandro's muscles, finding solace in the familiarity of his form.

"I tried to stop him, you know," Alessandro's voice broke the silence abruptly.

"What?" I murmured, my hand coming to rest flatly against his chest.

"Tom," he spoke the name softly, a shiver running down my spine at its sound. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm sorry," he confessed, his hand moving gently to caress my bare shoulder.

"It's okay, Ales," I reassured him, unwilling to dwell on the painful memories of the past. "Let's forget about that, okay? I forgive you. Let's focus on the future," I said softly, hoping to soothe both our troubled minds.

"It's not." He says softly, a tear falling from the corner of his eye, his gaze wouldn't break away from the ceiling.

"Ales. Please I don't want to think about him." I say softly and his gaze finally looks down at me, his eyes were glossy and full of remorse.

"It's okay I promise." I say barely above a whisper.

"You were only doing your job..." I add.

He glances down at me for a moment then back at the ceiling.

"Fern says we're going to have to stay here for an extra couple months," he says with a sigh.

I groaned, peeling myself off him and walking toward the other side of the bunker where we kept the food. The air was thick with dampness, and the faint smell of mildew clung to everything. I crouched down, reaching under the small wooden kitchen table to pull out the crate we used for storage. My fingers brushed against the rough edges of a box of crackers. I hadn't had a decent meal in months—just scraps and whatever canned food Ales' uncle could bring us. The weekly deliveries had slowed to every two weeks because his uncle said he was being followed and needed to avoid suspicion.

I took a bite of a stale cracker, chewing slowly as my eyes roamed the bunker. It wasn't much—cracks split the cement walls, cobwebs clung to the ceiling corners, and a dim, dusty haze lingered around the old, flickering light bulbs. I'd been stuck here for months, but even so, it was better than being trapped at Tom's. My gaze shifted to Ales sprawled out on the mattress, his chest rising and falling steadily, eyes drooping closed from exhaustion.

Suddenly, a sharp crackle split the air—the old radio next to him sputtered to life, loud static filling the bunker. We both jolted upright as the noise pierced the stillness, and then a frantic voice burst through, panting heavily over the sound of distant gunfire.

"Alessandro, you need to get the fuck out of there now! They're here, man! They're fucking here!" The voice was desperate, urgent—Fern.

Ales sat up, eyes wide, his body tense. He snatched the radio, fumbling to bring it to his lips. "Fern?" he called, voice tight. But before he could say another word, a single, sharp gunshot rang out, followed by an eerie silence.

We didn't waste any time. I could see the panic rising in Ales' eyes as he leapt to his feet, and we scrambled toward the bunker's exit. The cold metal latch scraped as we threw open the doors, stepping out into the dense, misty woods. It was eerily quiet outside, the only sound the rustling of the trees. We had one chance—to reach the city before they found us. There was a single dirt road, hidden under thick undergrowth, that led to the main road. If we could just make it there...

"Fern left a car," Ales muttered breathlessly, scanning the edge of the clearing. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat drumming in my ears as we ran toward the camouflaged vehicle hidden under a tarp. We tore it off, revealing the old, battered SUV. Without hesitating, I jumped into the passenger seat, pulling at my seatbelt. It jammed. I yanked harder, panic flaring as it refused to budge. "Come on, come on!" I muttered, giving up and bracing myself without it.

Ales jumped into the driver's seat, his movements jerky with adrenaline. He slammed the start button, and the engine roared to life. Gravel sprayed behind us as we sped down the dirt road. I glanced over at him—his knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his jaw clenched tight, and his eyes were glossy, staring straight ahead. The weight of Fern's death hit him hard, but there was no time to process it.

"Ales, I'm sor—" I began, reaching out to him, but he cut me off.

"It's fine. Let's just get the fuck out of here," he snapped, pressing his foot harder on the gas. The engine whined as the car surged forward.

The road stretched endlessly before us, twisting through the trees as the sun sank behind the horizon. Shadows crept along the ground, and the forest seemed to close in on us. My heart thudded against my ribs, the tension in the air suffocating. If Tom's men were coming, we were sitting ducks.

The rain started without warning, heavy drops splattering against the windshield and turning the dirt road to slick mud. The wipers worked furiously, but the road ahead was barely visible. We'd been driving for what felt like hours, but we still hadn't reached the main road.

Suddenly, I saw it. Headlights. They cut through the darkness, flickering between the trees up ahead. My stomach dropped.

"Shit," Ales cursed, his voice tight with fear. He killed the headlights and yanked the steering wheel to the right, swerving off the road and into the forest. The SUV lurched violently as we bounced over uneven ground, narrowly missing tree trunks. My body jerked with each jolt, but the adrenaline kept me focused.

Then came the sound. A low roar. The unmistakable acceleration of a car behind us. And then—gunfire.

"Fuck! Fuck!" Ales shouted, his voice panicked. "Andrea, I need you to shoot back!" He tossed a heavy pistol into my lap. My hands trembled as I picked it up, the weight of the cold metal foreign in my hands. I swallowed hard, rolling down the window as rain poured into the car, soaking my clothes and sticking my hair to my face.

With shaking fingers, I raised the gun, sticking my arm out the window. I squeezed the trigger, single shots firing into the night, the kickback jarring my arm with each pull. I couldn't aim. I could barely see through the rain and the tears clouding my vision.

The rear windshield exploded with a deafening crash. Glass rained down inside the car, cutting my cheek and hands. The car lurched forward, the horn blaring. I gasped, whipping my head around just in time to see Ales slumped over the steering wheel, blood pouring from a wound on the side of his head.

"ALES!" I screamed, panic surging through me like wildfire. My voice was raw, tearing at my throat as I reached out to him, trying to pull him upright. The car was swerving dangerously, trees looming ahead of us.

"No, no, no!" I cried, grabbing the wheel and trying to steer, but it was too late.. There was a deafening crash as we hit something hard, and the world around me went black.