VAGUE

CHAPTER 14 (PART 3)

CHAPTER 14

-PART THREE-

Time had begun to dissolve into itself, as shapeless as the rain.

Time is precious, time don't lie, this you can't deny

As long as time is concerned; People will come and unfairly go

Time won't stop in this cruel world. Friendless and haunted,

No time for love, no time for anything

One big mistake; Can ruin you.

One love; million pains

Time is Ticking. Dawn is coming,

its Rosy fingers spilling over the Horizon, must not look Back, for time will end you!

The bullet spat out from the gun, red in the darkness. It hit her directly in the chest, propelling her backward. She fell into her brother's arms. For a few seconds she looked up against his brother's eyes as if she was trying to admire it one last time. The bright rays folded over her face. The gunshots brought pain; it was as if the bullet passed through on her back, her blood was draining over her shirt, running warm through her middle body. Her stomach lurched.

From that very moment when a loud echo came from the gun, the time suddenly turned slow as everyone was shock on what happened.

"No!" Price shouted as he carries his bloody sister on his arms

"No! No!" Gray shout out of despair

"I-I'm tired, c-can I rest?" The poor Angelycko utter as she try to let out any words

"Don't close your eyes please!" Price cry telling her unconscious sister what to do.

Lycko arched her body out of pain and gauged tons of blood out of her mouth.

"I-I Love Yo-" She can't speak. Her eyes cry as the pain go deeper torturing her.

"Price Come on!" as the great Pendelton starts his engine.

The moment was too fast for them to absorb what's happening, Knight-Lock and Gray Williams run through the woods to chase the bastard who merely kill their ally. Running until they reach the middle were the culprit suddenly disappears.

"Fuck! Where are you!" Gray angrily shout as he pulled the trigger on any direction he wants

"Gray! Up there!" Lock point his finger directly to a tree when he saw the man trying to escape through climbing on a mere-like ladder leading to a small bunker

"You're dead!" Gray shouted as he continuously pulled the trigger not knowing how could he shot the man. Knight-lock try to aim the man on opposite direction as Gray trying to shoot.

"You'll pay for what you've done" he whispers as he finally decided to pull the trigger. A loud banging sound echoed all over the forest, the man fell down from the tree. The two brave man run towards the direction where the snipper man falls.

"Where did he go?" Gray clenches his fist because of his overflowing anger as they found nothing towards the direction were the guy fell.

"we should head back" Lock suggested "Lycko needs us"

"ojo por ojo" Gray utter as he walks his way back to the café.

...

The hallway has as much personality as the rest of the hospital. The floor is slate grey and the walls dove. Above the ceiling is made from those polystyrene squares laid on a grid-like frame. The light is too bright for my eyes after the darkening gloom outside, I find it abrasive, enough perhaps to bring on one of my migraines. There are commercial prints on the wall, tasteful in the dull kind of way. This place certainly isn't run by risk-takers and I guess I should find comfort in that. Above every door I pass is a large plastic sign, dark with white lettering- no fancy fonts, just bold and all-caps. It's so new and spotless I feel like the whole building must have just gotten beamed here from some-place dirt is outlawed. Nowhere is the chronic underfunding more evident than in the hallways. They are for the most part crammed with patients on trolleys, some tended by strained relatives and some alone. Each of them lies on their back, strapped in, eyes toward the naked fluorescent tubes that flicker as though they are on their last legs. In the brief gaps between these unfortunates who cannot afford the exorbitant private fees, the pale blue walls are deeply scored by the metal framed trollies, the drywall showing though like white scars. The cheap prints on the walls are insipid, so lacking in vibrancy that they appear sun-bleached in this windowless strip. The confined space magnifies the groans and wails to no avail, the nurses have seen it all before and are immune, hardened by repeat exposure and over-work. This hospital is nothing like the others, where the receptionist is more plastic than the purified water dispenser. Here there is no openness, no space, nothing shines or has the smell of disinfectant. Instead the way in is down a long hallway so narrow that if a wheelchair or trolley were to come. The walls were once painted, I can tell that from the cream flakes that remain, though mostly they show the grey undercoat or perhaps the concrete beneath that. The floor is uneven from so much traffic with both feet and wheels and it's darker than a mausoleum. The air is stagnant like we just went into some pit. There are no hand sanitizers on the walls, how they prevent the spread of germs here I don't know, perhaps they don't. From ahead come muffled voices, some angry, some placating. I bite down on my lip, this isn't going to be fun.