Paint it Another Colour

Chapter 55

Joao wasn't quite sure how he woke up, but he did, and the first thing he saw was Matthew's body. He lay, staring at it for a bit, a lump forming in his throat and sat up, turning around so he didn't have to see how he failed. Carefully, he reached up a hand to pat his head. It felt normal, up to the part where everything had been shaved away and he could feel chipped bone, crusted with dry blood like the rest of him. He definitely wasn't in good shape, and the fact that he'd woken up shocked him, and probably anyone else who might lay eyes on him in the near future. It confused him, but he didn't spend too long questioning why he was alive and not dead. If he was being honest, he deserved to be dead: he'd failed, Matthew was dead, but he'd been close to enough death so many times before that now he never wondered for long about his existence, just got up and carried on, because there had to be some reason why he was alive, and not dead.

Slowly, he dragged himself to his feet, wavering about a little and leaning against the wall to clutch at his head in an attempt to dispel the headache. Before that, he'd almost forgotten the fact that half of his skull seemed to be missing its skin coat.

"Oh yeah" he gave a weak laugh and glanced down at Matthew. "Sorry" he muttered, taking a shaky step away from him. "I promise I won't let it happen to anyone else though, yeah?"

Naturally, Matthew didn't answer, but even if he had have done, Joao didn't wait around for an answer, simply took off with huge strides down the corridor. He had to find someone – anyone – preferably someone who didn't want to kill him though, because he didn't think he could deal with another fight, and survive it, especially after his wounds from the last one. It puzzled him that he wasn't in too much pain. Of course, his head hurt, and the specific places where he'd been stabbed he could definitely do with some painkillers for, but in general, he just ached.

He sighed and glanced up and down the corridor he was stood on. Either way, it was completely empty. It was now that he suddenly wondered about everyone else they'd come in with. There had been at least twenty-five of them as they'd come in. He knew there was less than that now, even if it was just one less, for Matthew, but something told him that there were lots more like Matthew. He went through a few of them: Alfred, Matthew, Feliciano, Gilbert, Arthur, Antonio – his brother. Joao halted in his walk and glanced around again. He'd told Matthew he wouldn't let 'it' happen to anyone else, so he was going to find Antonio – as long as he wasn't already dead that was.

Joao took a few fast steps forwards as the beginning of a run and then doubled over, clutching his head. Running didn't seem to agree with him at the moment, so he continued with a slow walk that finished every so often with a sort of limp that hurt almost more than actually stepping on his injured leg. He continued like this for a few minutes, peering around every corner as he got to it. Although he didn't see anyone, he heard plenty of shouts and footsteps echoing around the halls, and every time one sounded that didn't seem to be miles off, Joao would freeze and press himself into the wall as though trying to hide. There were numerous occasions like this, each one leaving him feeling foolish and jumpy, and he was just starting to get to the point where he was about to ignore them all when sudden footsteps sounded too close and someone came around the corner. Joao jumped and leapt backwards, ready to lash out at them before stopping and staring with recognition.

"Hello?" Antonio's arms were stretched out in front of him, groping at mid-air and he was taking small steps. "Is someone there?"

Joao didn't answer for a second, just stood there, staring. Antonio looked terrible: his face was bright red across one side and around the eyes, both of which were screwed shut. Parts of the red area was showing what could be flesh or blood, but it was all too red to distinguish specific parts from others. Although Antonio looked back, Joao could bet anything he looked worse.