Strobe lights. Dozens, by the dozens. Corners, walls, ceiling, floor. One, two, three, four... Flashing fast, repeating... it hurts, a headache snowballing.
Calling upon my Legacies is out of the question; it's impossible to focus.
Something grazes me, and I wince; I don't know what, but a glimpse of fresh blood drips down my arm just as a gash opens at my thigh. Pins and needles whip by, skinning my skin, cutting deeper. One slice, two, three, four... My shoulder, side, calves, chest... I can never see what's grazing me. Knives, daggers, arrows, swords...
It's never-ending. It burns! My breath is short; I can't breathe! I wonder if it will end. I wonder how much longer... I shut my eyes, try to hold on, but the reality's too real: He's going to kill me. I didn't care. I attacked him. I fucked up, and now he's going to kill me.
Hands, feet, chest, everything—my body rocks with reckless dismay.
There're sharp objects flying past me, most of it slicing, only a fraction missing me by a hair. I stay as close as possible to the floor. I try to crawl. It's slow. Each movement, each sharp breath, is like drowning underwater, drowning in my own blood.
My palm touches a wall, a dark surface. I did it.
My face feels swollen. My blood boils, fingers sting, bones ache, body burns...
I've never been more scared of dying before, not even in WV. No. Despite everything, I'm still afraid of death, who I'm sure is now waiting around the corner. How did I manage to escape him at all???
I don't feel the pins and needles anymore, the pains that graze me and slit my blood. It's bigger gashes, ones that dig into my arms, legs, back, ribs; those bury deep in.
Finally at my feet again, I trudge to the iron door; it's like trudging through thick mud. I follow the wall. How long has it been? An hour? Two? Three? More?
One step after another, the pattern continues, because I force it to; I don't know why I force it to. I could just succumb to it. I could stop and welcome death when it shows; it'll all be over. Why don't I? Because of what he said? Because I need to prove myself? I dissuade the thought as fast as I acknowledged it. I don't care about strength. I don't care about this war. I want a way out. I don't know if I want to live; I just want something to make this madness end. I'll take anything, honestly; I will... with open, bloody arms.
I bang on the door with a bloody fist, whimpering, wobbling, trying with every sore muscle in my body to hold. My knuckles ache—everything does! They're sticky and warm. I bang hard and loud. I grit my teeth and hold my arm in my stomach; it's all I manage to do 'till something bigger strikes me in the back—up, top left, I think, I can't tell. I drop.
On the floor atop a rapidly blinking strobe, I lie unable to move.
There isn't an ounce of feeling in any of my limbs. I'm frozen, paralyzed, bloody, left for dead, surely, and for a moment, I see that. For the briefest instant, it's crystal clear. Dark red surrounds me, and I know I'll be gone soon. I'm okay with that. Really. I am. I can't handle any more.
Darkness sweeps over me, wrapping me up under a nice cozy blanket, and before it takes me, my last thought? It wasn't Setrákus Ra, or Five, or the Mogs.
It was me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I blamed you instead of me...
YOU ARE READING
A Hero in the Dark: 2nd Edition
FanficTHE EVENTS IN THIS STORY ARE REAL. NAMES AND PLACES HAVE BEEN CHANGED TO PROTECT THE LORIEN. WHO REMAIN IN HIDING UNTIL THE TIME IS RIGHT. - SHE HAS DEVELOPED POWERS. SHE CAN FIGHT BACK. SHE CAN HELP YOU SAVE THE WORLD, BUT SHE MUST CHOOSE A SI...
