Lost in Technicolor

Monorail

Drake sat there completely worn out. He could barely muster the strength to even breath, when just faintly he caught Damien's deep voice. "Are you all right now? Can you even hear me?"

He nodded slightly. He had a terrible headache now and all he could think about were all of those people dying in that train, watching him from the exit that they could just reach out of if Damien had let them move.

"Well, do you want to get up so we can make head start on getting out of here?" Damien snapped at him, nudging him harshly in the side with the tip of his black leather shoe.

Drake didn't move. The sole thing that possessed his mind was his absolute hatred of Damien. He hated him beyond belief, but he was him and it was tearing him apart more than any thought that Damien was his father ever could. With Damien as his father, Drake had a likely chance of becoming like Damien, but now with Damien being him there was no doubt in his mind that Damien was his inexorable fate. He hated him so much! What gave him the right to even speak to him? After all those years of lying and torturing him, he owed Drake more than he did Jade. Never in his life could he think of a time that he had so completely loathed someone that much. It sent a fury through his body like fire, making him tremble from head to toe.

"Drake get up," Damien commanded him.

And so he did, but not without taking the opportunity to punch Damien directly in the nose as soon as he had. Damien skidded to the floor blood gushing from his nostrils. He glared at Drake, seething with anger.

"Listen to me," he said as he stood up, the blood was pouring into his mouth with each word. "You-"

"No," Drake snapped, silencing him, "I am sick and tired of listening to you, so you listen to me Damien. We are getting out of here as soon as we can. No more fucking games. I know that you can figure the way out and you're not only going to head us out once I am done speaking, but you're also going to tell me how the hell you seem to be the only person who knew that this place even existed when we get out of here!"

Damien grinned at him with bloody teeth. "Of course."

So the three of them headed out into the vast dim world of metal, careful not to fall into the deep crevices separating the islands of metal. Drake wasn't sure what Damien's plan was, but he and Petra didn't have any other ideas so they simply followed him through the maze like walls. It was eerie. Drake had never felt so trapped. There were walls as high as he could look up, a metal floor shining beneath his feet, walls on every side of him and in from and behind him. Orange, glowing, copper metal everywhere reflected his body.

It wasn't long before, Petra began to lag behind. Her wound had bled too much and she complained about feeling dizzy, making them stop every once and a while for her to catch up.

At long last to Drake's surprise Damien turned to her and said almost softly, "Dear, you can't hold up much longer in your state. Let me carry you. We can't get anywhere like this!"

She let our a short, but faint laugh, "I'd rather die before . . ." she swayed a bit, "before," and then fell forwards. Damien caught her and lifted her up, with a heavy sigh.

"How much further do we have?" Drake asked. He couldn't help, but worry for her.

"Should be soon," Damien looked down at him with a shrug.

Drake frowned. Why wasn't he angry with him? "Am I actually forcing you to take us out of here?"

Damien laughed, "Of course not. We need to hurry for her sake though come on, but first hand me your shirt since you seem to have lost mine on the train."