Catharsis [Novel]

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

            The pain is nearly intolerable.  I'm on a street in the middle of the city, and I survived both of the blasts from the shotgun, but I don’t think I will for much longer.  The darkness got me out of the house and away from the dark man with the gun, but I paid for it.  I didn't have enough energy to safely attack him and take him down, so I opted to just flee and get away.  Unfortunately his second shot hit me in the legs as I was running across the house's front lawn.  I was far enough way that the impact didn't incapacitate me (Thank goodness the gun was sawed-off and had a short spread, or I'm sure that final shot would have crippled me.), but it certainly did chew me up. 

            Gingerly, I run my hand down my right side and feel the open, bloody gore that used to be my ribs and lower abdomen.  It's bleeding, and there's not enough of me there to even be able to clot it.  I shouldn't be able to walk right now, but I'm too stubborn to lie down and die in the street.  I won't give him that satisfaction. 

            I will make it to my warehouse.  I will crawl into my closet, and I will finally give up this fight with as much dignity as I can muster.  I'm proud of what I accomplished in the last few days.  I was starting to make a difference.  If I had more time, then I know I could have run them out of our city.

            But I don't have more time.  I just have enough to get home (My new home, not my real home.  That home is gone to me now.) and embrace the last darkness I'll ever have to worry about.

            Pulling at the dark hunger in me one last time, I use it to fuel me the last several blocks until I can see the warehouse and get inside.