[Isolated]

Chapter 9

I don't own paw patrol

(Rocky's POV)

Everyone was running, everyone was hoping . With all these people who were here, death decides to toy with us. Apparent to us, it was more sinister than what it seems.

There are people screaming in the distance, suffering for more than what it seems. I can't even believe it, some of the things that's happening right now, it all doesn't make sense; and at the same time, it does.

Right now, we're running in the middle of everything. The town was completely broken -- same as us. Could you even believe that something so rational like a human, would be the same group of people we're dashing through.

As we pass, we saw different things happening to everyone. Some of them are imbedded with fear, while some perceive joy and glee during this psychological phenomena. Some out to prove their dominance, while others willingly give up; and their death is given by others -- mercilessly.

Somehow, we see our resemblance in it. We have also experienced it; at the same time, it felt different -- we feel empowered. Strong enough to break through the illusion, yet weak enough to still be disturbed by it.

Some of us, that is.

Ryder, Skye and Zuma were still afraid. Emotions withering at every gruesome behavior they spot. The remainder, Martin, Marshall and I, felt different -- felt the need for survival.

Our personality changed, enough to make an impact in the roles we play as. Without the other members we may reach an impasse; making us quit in the middle of everything -- placing Chase's and Rubble's survival as our top priority.

And our escape is still in question

The dalmatian rushed into the scene, everyone else lagged behind, including me; who was next to him earlier. We entered the rink.

The fabric they used to cover the main circus was torned, if not missing. The crew were circling outside, unstable. Every fragment of a happy and fun-time place, is now dripping in blood. Creepy scenario aside, it didn't bother me. I almost lost my family from something I refuse to believe is real. It happening to others, would be my last responsibility.

Do you really think you're not responsible for this?

"Whose there!?" calling out to whoever that was.

"What's wwong, Wocky?" the labrador tightened around my neck, slowly reminding me of what I was doing here.

I didn't say a thing after that. Worrying someone in a fragile state isn't going to help. And it seems like Zuma understood that as well, he too didn't say a word.

Intertwining our tails once again, he lays on my back peacefully, like he was purposefully making sure that I can feel his heartbeat. It was shortlived as we heard a gruesome voice from out dalmatian friend.

"Chase!"

The show ended days ago, yet there was someone left in the audience. In a broken down seating area gives a shadowy impression of a dog, a pup more or less. Its hindlegs were rested on the first seating, the forelegs, however, are suspended.