𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 ❀ ᴛᴇᴡᴋᴇꜱʙᴜʀʏ₁

❀𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧❀

Hand in hand, we make our way inside.  His grip tightens as we step closer and closer to the door and creep inside.

I'm sort of losing circulation to my hand, but I don't quite mind.

It's dark.  Very dark.  The only light  is the moon shining through the windows.  It's enough to send a shiver down anyone's spine.

"Mother?" Tewkesbury calls.  There is no reply.  We make our way through the endless halls, every footstep echoing a roar.

I hate this.  My eyes comb every inch of view I have after every step.  Call me paranoid, but I'm just being smart.  Everyone thinks looking around too much is silly until they catch a knife in the back.

"What is happening?" the boy mutters, and yet it fills the room.  It is impossible to be quiet here.

"They know we're here," comes Enola's hushed voice from behind me.  I shudder and take one more glance over the hall.  It looks clear, but the shadows could be concealing anything.

Just as I think this, something shifts.  I hear a gun cock, and grab the two people next to me, tugging them down quickly behind a table.  A porcelain vase shatters in front of us, and a shard finds my shoulder.  Searing pain like that of a knife fills me.

Two more gunshots.  From the sound of the gun and the loaded bullet rotation, it's a rifle, and it only holds four bullets. One more shot, then a forced reload and we can run.

The small piece of metal whistles over my head, and I scream "Run!" to both of my companions.  They follow after me, sprinting in the direction of the door we came in through.  I tug on the handle of the door and it doesn't budge.  God damn it, locked.  How could we be so stupid?

Statues and suits of armor line the walls, allowing for protection from the shooter.  A bullet grazes the chest of the figure I'm hiding behind and I cringe back.  This can't be how I die.

Blood is pouring from the wound in my shoulder, but I can't pay it attention now.  Injuries don't matter if you die, and by the sounds of it, this is what is about to happen.

Footsteps echo on the tiled floor, moving towards us.  I sink to the ground, arms covering my head.  I hear the panicked gasps from the two people beside me, my oldest friend and my newest one.  

I can't think, I can't breathe.  Everything hurts so very much.  I don't process as Enola throws something and another shot echoes.  She leaves my side.  Another bullet hurtles by, but I don't flinch. 

I'm as good as dead. 

One more bullet comes around, aimed directly at this boy.  I don't think, but I use the last ounce of my strength to push myself in front of him.  

It barely grazes my ribs, but I feel like I'm on fire.  Alex is screaming, shaking me, but I can't move.  I stare up at the ceiling and everything begins to fade out.

The boy leaves my side.  No wonder he lost hope in me.  Everyone does, eventually.

The pain begins to fade too.  The scuffling stops, until another voice joins in, shots echo.  I'm not listening.  I allow myself to focus on myself, just this once.

At least I died protecting someone I love.

Voices bring me back, momentarily.  A boy's voice, a girls.  Arms grip me, pull me close.  A cry echoes.  Pressure applied to the blood all over.  There's too much, even I can tell that.  One thought consumes me.

I grab an arm, it feels like my sister's.  I touch her arm repeatedly in a pattern I hope she understands.

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