𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄

ᴇɪɢʜᴛʏ - ᴛᴡᴏ

𝙒here am I?

What happened ...?

Blaine strained his neck to remind himself of the answer to those questions as a cough of dust escaped his lungs, knocking him down several pegs. Running away being the last thing he remembered did not atone for the weakness he felt in his system—how much it was displayed physically.

Slowly cracking his eyes open, blinking multiple times to produce enough water to set them back to their normal homeostatic vision, he took in the room surrounding him. Large chunks of rock scattered around him almost like someone had picked them up like leaves and tossed them into the air. Debris fluttered around his eyelashes, catching on as he looked above and took note of the silence and stillness of the barely structured building he didn't quite recognize.

Using the little strength remaining in his system, he twitched the fingers on his left hand, letting himself know that somehow, luckily, this one had not been injured throughout the disarray showing of what happened to this place. Placing it on the back of his neck, he ignored the searing pain that crossed the front of his skull from moving too fast and moved up and down the vertebrae, counting and touching each one to see if there was any displacement.

Am I still at the enemy warehouse?

Blaine, not realizing the stones before him were off-put and sitting without any sort of stability, placed his good hand on it in an attempt to move forward. Consequentially slipping, a yelp of anguish formed in the back of his throat as the careless action had his chin slamming into the ground, scratching the skin of it. That alone would have been a secondary act of annoyance if it weren't for the loud, hot, and unidentified pain climbing up his backside.

While he'd done his best with what he had to work with in terms of checking his back, the way he was positioned did all but nothing for him. The middle and lumbar areas of his back that seemed to require the most attention were, unsurprisingly, the places that were the most out of reach.

The realization smacked him across the face.

I ... I can't feel my legs.

Letting that thought slide off his shoulders for the time being, mainly out of fear, he turned to the place around him. Now that his brain was back on his neck, and he was coherent enough, he directed his vision to his right arm—hoping for the same outcome as his left.

Sadly, it was not granted. Wide-eyed, he took in the spilled blood that was still collecting underneath his pinned arm. From this alone, he knew that the likelihood of it being broken was high, however, if there was pain there to alert him, he felt none of it—the adrenaline and blaring shock in his system were eating away at his nervous system.

Shifting closer, he managed to hook his left hand around the thickness of the rock in a way to shove it up and off him. The moment it was released, an agitated and agony-inducing groan pushed out of his lips; he cuddled his destroyed hand in his chest, thankful that at least his bone had not breached the skin, but hopeless every time he tried to move his fingers with no avail.