Found Obsession

Chapter 114: Elijah's POV: The Speech

Elijah's POV

Elijah's focus was singular: they had to make it out. The air was alive with the sound of bullets cutting through it, sharp and deafening. One whizzed past, far too close for comfort. His heart pounded, but not for him, he forced himself to stay calm. They just needed to reach the sides of the gates.

She wouldn't make it. He knew it the moment her weight sagged further into him, her silent cries of pain vibrating against his side. She had been shot. Elijah gritted his teeth, his mind racing. The others—Lucas—had managed to cross, but she wouldn't be able to. They were out of time, and the gates were too far for her to reach on her own.

They were right behind them.

Elijah tightened his grip on her. He had no choice. He crouched low, summoning every ounce of strength he had, and with a surge of power, he gave her the lift she needed. The others caught her just in time, their shouts muffled against the adrenaline pounding in his ears.

But the force of his throw unbalanced him, and before he could steady himself, his footing slipped. The edge of the rooftop vanished beneath him, and the world seemed to slow.

The crash of breaking glass filled his ears as he fell through a window, shards glinting like frozen sparks around him. Instinct took over as he twisted midair, his arms flailing to grab onto anything—anything—to break his fall. His fingers grazed the edge of the window frame managing to break the fall just a little, but the slickness of the shattered glass betrayed him, and he couldn't hold on.

The fall seemed endless until it wasn't. His body hit the ground hard, the impact reverberating through him. Pain exploded across his ribs, his breath knocked clean from his lungs. He groaned, his vision swimming as he tried to orient himself.

Through the haze of pain, a faint hum reached his ears. Something was activating.

He blinked, forcing his gaze to clear. Around him, red beams began to crisscross the space, forming an intricate web. Lasers. His mind registered the danger, but his body screamed in protest as he tried to move.

Get up, he commanded himself, dragging his battered frame toward the nearest stack of freezers, it seem they had activated due to whatever was in here. With a final burst of effort, he pulled himself on top of one, his limbs trembling from the exertion.

Breathing heavily, Elijah groaned, his head throbbing. The edges of his vision darkened, and before he could make sense of what was happening, the weight of exhaustion and pain dragged him into unconsciousness.

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Elijah stirred, his consciousness tugged back by the rhythmic sounds of something being placed on the warehouse. Nails being driven into wood. A hammer striking with deliberate precision. The faint noise seemed to echo, pulling him from the darkness.

His eyelids fluttered open, his vision blurred as he adjusted to the dim light filtering through the warehouse. The metallic hum of nearby freezers reached his ears, a constant reminder of where he was. Slowly, his senses sharpened.

I'm still breathing, he thought, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. 

He groaned as he shifted slightly, his body protesting every movement. The sharp sting in his ribs made him freeze momentarily. Definitely bruised, maybe cracked, he assessed grimly. His back throbbed dully, a persistent ache radiating through his muscles. A headache pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, and the sharp pain in one of his fingers confirmed it was broken.

Could've been worse, he told himself, though the thought didn't provide much comfort.

Gritting his teeth, he carefully removed his glove with one hand, his movements deliberate despite the pain. With a sharp intake of breath, he gripped his broken finger, steeling himself. In one swift, precise motion, he snapped it back into place.