A Different Time

Seven

Alex
It's been days since they took him. I've been wandering aimlessly. I have nothing. They took everything from me.
They seem to have dumped me somewhere. Everything around me seems to be dead. Plants are completely void of life and colour. Everything is gray. Not even a light tan or a beige. Just... gray. The ground is black, it seems to have been charred. Fire.

I sniff the air. Smoke. But which direction?
I look around me, at the tree line, scanning for anything. Animals, people, swaying trees, fire, anything.
But there's nothing there.
Typically, in the FBI, they train you to go for the things that the criminal would expect you to run from.
So into the flames I go.
I look at the sky, just above the trees. The warm glow of flames illuminate the sky.
At the sight, I start to sprint—a searing pain jolting it's way up my forehead and down my back. I press my hand to the top of my head and the pain subsides.
I burst through the trees, jumping over logs and diving past large stone markers. The flames are growing closer with every second, and this makes me go faster, I cant feel my legs or arms, but I don't care—I have to find Dan.

My body doesn't stop when I tell it to stop. My legs carry me through the flames, and I can feel my flesh burning away. I scream and keep running. I make it through the fire and not 50feet out, everything seems to stop. I squint at it. My legs keep going faster and faster, and I can't stop them.

And then I'm falling.
—
Dan
A fist collides with my face again, and I let out a groan, my face flying to the left, blood pouring from my mouth.
"Who are you?" The man shouts.
"I... I'm Dan Smi—" His other fist smashes down onto my face, breaking my nose.
"FUCK, MAN!" I shout, wriggling around in my chair. My hands are bound.
"WHO. ARE. YOU?!" He screams at me, flicking a knife out of his sleeve and flipping it, taking a step back.
I look him in the eyes and I spit blood at him.
"I'm Dan motherfucking Smith—"
His hand jerks, and the knife comes flying at me—hitting my shoulder.

My mouth flies open in a scream, and I look at the handle of the knife, and his footsteps draw closer.
His hand wraps around the knife and he slowly slides it out. I roll my head back and I grit my teeth. This is agonizing.

He points the knife at me.
"Who are you?" He says quietly.
I shake my head.
"I don't know, man..." I whisper.
He takes the knife and starts to press into my stomach.
I immediately panic and start screaming.
"I DON'T KNOW!!!"