He Was Dying

Chapter Twenty-One | Part Two

  I felt like I was on autopilot. I was no longer in control of my own body, like my mind was a computer being hacked.

Painlessly, my arms shifted to prop myself up. Knees bending and large feet planted below me, I slowly stood, and I could hear the cracking of sore muscles. The boys were crowded around me, but still kept their distance a few feet away. I wondered if they knew this is me, although it isn't me. As I straightened my back, I could feel something drip down the side of my skull. Smitty looked nervous and irritated by it, and by that point I pieced together that it was blood. Probably because of the swing of the pipe from Brian.

  I drifted like a loose leaf in the wind down a hallway, slow but eager footsteps tapping after me. I couldn't look over my shoulder at them, but I could guess that they were confused as all Hell.

This is the right choice, Omega.

My throat rumbled. "How do you know that?"

Hush.

"Says the voice in my head."

It stayed quiet.

"Who are you?"

You don't need to know that yet.

"Are you Azarov? That god in the sky?"

I said you don't need to know that yet.

"I feel like I do." I heard mumbling behind me. Questions from the guys. I couldn't answer them. I guess I was talking out loud.

Stop talking.

"How about you do first?"

Don't sass me.

"I'll be sassy all I want, Mr. Voice," I grumble.

  My heavy feet thumped against the cold stone floor, guiding me through halls to someplace. The footsteps behind me began to slow, and I could tell the guys were becoming hesitant, but one pair kept pushing on.

I stopped. "What?" The voice was quiet for a moment.

They have to hide. Tell them to turn left at the next intersection and go up the staircase. They can't hide in any of the closests, tell them that, too. They got to hide in the abandoned offices, but not all together.

  After processing, I repeated the instructions to them. Mumbling wavered in the air behind me, until they pushed past. Brock led them down the hall, to the left and disappearing beyond the doorway. Bryce was last, looking back at me. Worry painted his face and fear dazzled in his crystal blue eyes, but he quickly turned and vanished through the door like the others.

  As footsteps faded through the floorboards above my head, I spoke out again to the voice. "What was that about?"

Shut up, Omega.

My feet continued to carry me down the hallways.

"I deserve to know."

  I said shut up!

The voice exploded in my ears at a great volume, causing my chest to tighten and a hiss of pain leak past my clenched teeth. My ears rang for a minute, and I watched as I was guided through corridors and rooms of the asylum silently. Might as well do it says, I suppose.

- - -

I collasped.

Tripping on my own feet as control was ripped from my mind, I tumbed to the dirt covered ground. I planted my hands on the floor to catch myself, and barely.

Gasping, breath seemingly escaping my lungs, I called out. "Voice! Voice, what happened?!"

  No answer.

I pounded at the floor with a fist. "Dammit!" Adjusting, my knees moved to prop myself up and I flicked dust from my ears. Slowly, I stood, looking around the room I found myself in.

  It was much like the large room on the second floor, but this one much smaller and without a glass dome. Lockers still lined the walls, their paint chipping and a rotten smell wavering from inside.

There were three corridors exiting the room: the hall I entered through, a second hall leading to the East wing of the asylum, and the third to a dead end, which was filled with piles of torn clothes and broken wooden planks.

  A loud and strong breeze travelled through the area, blowing from down the third corridor.