The Parallel Paths

Bursting Flames

A curdling scream filled the forest, causing the night to awaken from its deep slumber. The burning embers of the crumbling building crackled behind them, crashing down in the flames of his now fury. The fire spread along with the screaming, like a wave of terror through the thickets of the trees.

Elara fell to the ground in an instant, clutching her leg tightly, still screaming in agony. Zack quickly reacted, rushing down on his knees and clutching her tightly trying to inspect the wound while dismissing her loud cries.

His mind was solely focused on her, his heart trying to break free of his ribcage. Those once brave hands, the ones fault of the fire couldn't even remain still for they were as shaky as the flames.

Blood seeped into the lines of his skin as if it belonged there, a reminder he failed to save her in time. It soaked him like a curse—

he had to fix this.

"Stop screaming idiot!" He shouted over to her, trying to cover her mouth shut but she wouldn't stop, if anything she started to grow louder.

This wasn't making the situation any better. Her panicking was increasing along with her breathing, her eyes wide with horror.

Zack was desperately trying to wrap his cape tightly around the wound to stop the bleeding, at least till he got somewhere safe where they could seek medical help.

"Elara please, you have to stop screaming!" He now pleaded.

She wouldn't stop clutching her leg and shaking in pain from the wound, being rather dramatic but who could blame her? Zack was trying his best to comfort her and wrap the cloth around her leg to stop the bleeding. He was too lost in the moment, in the drowns of her screams echoing through his head to realize that she had passed out.

Once it was tight enough, he stood up straight looking down at her, his eyes widening finally realizing she was passed out, lying there with a limp body.

He just stared, the glare of the burning orange fire casting a glow across his face.

Something inside of him started to rise, his chest started to get heavy, his fingertips twitching slightly as the blood trickled down his palms onto the ground beneath.

He was unsure of what this feeling was.

ZACK POV:

Seeing her lying there, helpless, a stain of crimson spreading across her leg, shattered something in me. The realization hit me like a blow—I'd led her into this. She was in agony, and it was because of me. But the burn of guilt quickly twisted into something sharper, hotter—anger.

No, it wasn't my fault.

It was his.

My gaze snapped to him, the man slumped on the ground with his gun still in hand. He looked small, almost insignificant—hair wild, his face streaked with dirt and burn marks. Yet, that single gun in his hand, that small piece of metal, had turned my world upside down.

Rage.

Sharp and unyielding, surged through my veins, making my skin prickle with heat. My hands trembled, a helpless shudder I couldn't control, and my heart pounded as if it wanted to break free from my chest.

I looked down at my hands, her blood smearing across my fingers, dripping from my palms onto the ground. It was a sickening reminder of what he'd done to her, to us. I clenched my fists, feeling the warm, sticky blood between my knuckles.

I wanted to make him pay.

To see him feel a fraction of the pain he'd caused.

I'd never felt this before—this raw, consuming rage. My friends had been hurt before, and I'd always managed to stay calm,