Endings: Book One

All Is Lost

Regret is the greatest form of pain one can endure. It is a lonely cross to carry, even for the hardest of souls.

-Anonymous.

Four years ago.

The rain fell hard around him, the thunder rioting in the skies and the lightning became the only source of illumination. He was on his back, covered in dust and debris, his breathing ragged because the air had grown tense.

The explosion had hit them hard and fast and his body ached from its aftermath. He tried to move but the remainder of the ceiling and railing was pinning his leg down. He then felt the sharp sting of pain in his lower abdomen and mused that something had just pierced it's way through his stomach.

Nevertheless his mind wasn't thinking about his injuries, it was mindlessly looking for a means to get his body back up.

Where is she?

At that moment he could only think of her, had she reached the clearing before the explosion? Had she somehow escaped the line of fire that had been directed towards them out of nowhere?

Is she okay?

The damming feeling in his chest wasn't because of the pain he was feeling. It was fear, the dread that came in knowing that maybe she hadn't reached the clearing, hadn't escaped the line of fire.

Maybe she isn't okay.

His mind chose not to accept its own deductions. It urged his body to free itself instantly, to find the answers to the questions that were ruining him from the inside out.

She was never supposed to be a part of this.

He felt the bitter taste of hate and anger cruising through the bile in his throat. A roller coaster of emotions swirled in his very being, the adrenaline accelerating every form of heightened emotions that were being reprogrammed in his body. He had wanted nothing to do with their world, had wanted nothing in return. He'd just wanted peace, he'd chosen to give up and live in the confinement they'd deemed worthy for him. He'd found happiness in the punishment that they had orchestrated for him.

And they couldn't fucking let me go.

He pulled his right leg slowly, careful not to let the iron rod dig deeper into his stomach. When it was free, he stationed it against the blocks around him, looking for the support he needed. His other leg had indicated that it was not fairing as well as its partner.

Everytime he tried to change its posture the pressure of the block seemed to effortlessly crush his bones. He looked around and behind him lay another rod, attached to sections of the peeled off ceiling. He reached out his arms for him to get a hold of it and almost cried out in pain as the muscles in his stomach stretched, widening the wound, letting the rod progress deeper inside of him.

It was only a matter of time before his attackers advanced into the building or before he lost consciousness due to his excessive bleeding. Once his hands clenched the rod like he was weightlifting, he took a few deep breaths before clenching his jaw. He knew that the only way to minimize the damage to his leg was if he pulled it out really quickly. But he couldn't do that without ripping off his intestines onto the floor.

He cursed at his predicament. He was running out of time. He wanted to scream out for help but knew that there was no one there. He would only be giving out his location.

Think Adrian, Think!

And that was when he saw it, underneath the bolder that he was entrapped in, a few other pieces of debris lay at the furthest side, creating another inclination point contrary to the one made by his own form. With all his moving and frantic attempts at salvation, the debris had moved further inside, widening the gap to his side, giving him more room to move. There was no way he could remove the rod but he could detach himself from it.

He used the support from his right leg and his arms and slowly moved his body towards the left. The pain engulfing him immediately, he could feel more parts of his leg crack under the full might of the block above him and simultaneously feel the the rod's sizzling departure from the wound leaving it fresh and bare.

He laid back once more, inhaling sharply clenching his jaw tightly to prevent any sound from escaping his lips. His body begged him to rest despite its first hand view of initial success and pulling free from the rod, to end the fruitless venture and to give in to his delusions. He saw the pool of blood widening beside him and felt himself growing weaker by the second.

It's now or never.

He pulled out his remaining leg rather too ubruptly, he couldn't bare the agony anymore and his mind had reached its tipping point. He dropped onto the floor like a bag, gasping for air and crawling away from his cage like a wooden animal.

The rain drenched him all over and he welcomed it. He strained to move and was glad that his body didn't deny him. He looked for support as he grasped the oak table before him and pulled himself up.

He instantly realized that his injured leg was a massive liability. His hand clenched his stomach in an attempt to dull out the pain and to stop it from bleeding out.

His attempts were vague.

He looked around and could only see death and destruction. The magazine shells from semi automated machine guns lay open on the floor, the building was aching against the strain of its now weak infrastructure. The smoke had cleared and slowly his mind was clearing too. He looked through the tainted windows and broken glass and saw the van outside, it's men gearing up once more, refilling their rounds again, ready to come in and finish what they had started.

I've got to find her.

He walked through the damaged building, half limping, half dragging his leg in the process. He rounded the familiar twists and corners. His eyes straining for any form of life. Any sign of her.

He could see the moving flashlights piercing through the bullet holes and cracks in the walls and knew that his time was running out.

He followed the exact path that he'd explained for her and with each body he found, his heart stopped beating until it realised it wasn't her.

He was bleeding too much, his head was feeling lighter with each movement he made and the pain being reciprocated in every part of his body was pulling him down. But he didn't stop, even when he had to lean on the walls for support and catch his breath.

Where are you?

As he descended down the stairs through the basement he could hear the doors above him break loose, the sounds of rushing feet accompanying them. He quickened his efforts at movement, he only had to get to the back door.

Though he hoped that she had left, that she had listened to him.

He passed the medical storage containers and refrigerators, the lights hanging from the ceiling flickered gently, the creaking sound of the floor above them from the muffled steps that trampled upon them increased with each passing second. The rain dripped even harder as is found its way through the cracks in the opening and he knew that he couldn't make it.

So when he turned the corner into the corridor and saw the backdoor intact, his heart gave way, the warm feeling of hope laying waste to all his adrenaline.

He fell slowly against the wall to the ground. He spat out his own blood once more, the pain he was experiencing became more excruciating and he couldn't feel his legs anymore.

He closed his eyes and for the first time in his life he prayed.

Please... I've never asked you for anything. But I ask you this, please... Let her be safe.