30 - As It Ends

7.8K 332 123
                                    


30 - As It Ends

Aristotle stood at your side. Your light blue hospital issued pajamas and his bright orange jumpsuit would easily snag anyone’s attention, so you waited until the hallway was empty enough.

Hand in hand, the two of you raced out of the room and down the hall, passing bright windows that showed the outside. It appeared that the police were surrounding a car with windows that were spray painted black. You ducked out of sight, where no one would see you.

Suddenly, there was the reign of gunfire at the car and a loud explosion. You screamed from the surprise and Aristotle pulled you to his chest. His comforting embrace damped the deafening ringing in your ears.

Meanwhile, Gear and Moran ran up and down the hallways of the police station. Bandannas and goggles hid their identities as they lined the hallways with thick, heavy streaks of gasoline. A horrible, sinister smirk on his face, Moran ran through the halls.

The car trap had worked perfectly. Most of the cops were dead, and the inmates were still trapped in their cells. They’d be dead soon anyway. It didn’t matter. They were lowlifes. His biggest concern was finding you, however. He had to get you out.

Gear had hacked into the systems to turn off all the cameras. It was extremely probable that you and that… that… bastard… were outside when the car exploded. It was a simple trick of a fuse hanging slightly out of the gas tank. Simple, easy, high damage, perfect weapon for Moran. He didn’t even need to be near when it exploded. He just needed to light the fuse and run like hell. Which he did.

After the hallways were lined with a thick river of gasoline, the two met up with the gasoline tanks and lead the oil down the stairs into the basement, into the boiler room. This is where people stored the tanks of extra gasoline for passing cop cars.

The two psychopaths fist bumped with a small explosion with their hands, mimicking the horrible future quickly approaching.

“Remember,” hissed Moran.  “You find YN. I grab the fucking bastard and lock him inside. With the distances of the fire and how long it will take to erupt, we should light the fire in…” he glanced at the watch on his wrist. “Two minutes. Let’s go.” With a psychotic smile, Gear raced away to find you for his friend.

Minutes later, your eyes fluttered open. Your head was bleeding, and you laid on the cement. If you weren’t already weak from your time in the hospital, this would’ve done it. You groaned as you sat up and looked around. Aristotle laid near you, close and unconscious.

Your ears still rang, and every other sound was drained away. A hand landed on your shoulder, flipping you over to look at them. Your vision was blurred and time seemed to slow. You couldn’t recognize the person, but they were wearing a bandanna that his their face and goggles that distorted their eyes.

You didn’t fight back as the person began violently dragging you away by your shoulders, as if you were a dead body. You passed the burning ruins of the car trap, and the dead or dying bodies of the police officers scattered around you.

As you slowly ‘came to’, you gained your sense of hearing back and your senses sharpened. Your eyes followed another man, approaching the twisting and turning Aristotle. He groaned in pain and reached up for his aching head.

The stranger grabbed a handful of Aristotle’s hair, and you could hear him scream in shock and agony. The stranger pulled Aristotle inside the burning building as you writhed under your captor’s grip.

“Let… let me… let me go…” you moaned. He chuckled as you pulled away and scrambled to your feet. You recognized that smiling sound. “G-Gear?” He pulled his bandanna down to reveal his face. He laughed and ran a hand through his red hair, almost embarrassed.

“Guess that disguise didn’t work out too well,” he chuckled. You stood up and he set his hands on your waist to help you stand. Your head was throbbing.

“What’s… what happened? Where’s Moran? Where’s Ari-”

“Ssh, ssh, ssh,” Gear muttered, pulling your head to rest on his chest. “It’ll be over soon. Don’t worry.”

“Gear… what’s going on?” Yet another extremely loud explosion shook through the ground as the police station was ripped apart in a flood of flames. Gear pulled you close as you shrieked in fear.

Wait… what? Where’s Aristotle? Where’s Moran? What happened?

Well, I’ll tell you what happened.

As Moran dragged the groggy and injured Aristotle inside, the teenager began to stir. He moaned and groaned as Moran pulled him every which way. It didn’t matter if he was getting more hurt as he dragged him. Bastard took you. He deserved every second of it.

The gas fuse had been lit and Moran had merely a minute or so until the station exploded. As they approached the door to the basement, Aristotle swung his leg to trip Moran. The older man fell to the ground with a grunt, hitting his nose square on the floor. He stood in shock as blood tumbled from his nose and to the floor.

Aristotle stumbled to his feet and raised his fists. His eyes were tired and dreary, as if he couldn’t really see anything. Which, by the way, he couldn’t. Moran stood up, watching the fire approach quickly. Maybe he had seconds before the fire exploded.

Dropping his fists and beginning to run for the exit, Aristotle tackled him to the ground.

LET ME GO!’ he screamed.

THIS IS FOR MY YN!” Aristotle responded without a beat. Moran’s eyes widened with fear as the fire burned through the door. He braced himself for what was to come. A final, fleeting thought raced through his mind.

At least you weren’t that bastard’s…

The explosion shook through the ground as fire enveloped both Aristotle and Moran. You and Gear fell to the ground, his arm wrapped tightly around you. You were Moran’s, and he couldn’t let you get hurt.

Time froze completely, as if the thought began sinking in. A million thoughts raced through Gear’s head. Where was Darla? Where was Moran? Where was the murderer? What was he supposed to do? All he had was a whiny teenager and a burning building full of dead police officers, his best friends, and possibly his sister.

In your mind, you were terrified. Aristotle was dead, and you knew it was Moran who had killed him. Why else would Gear be taking you away? And where was Darla in all of this? Did they leave her to die?

What was next?

The two of you stood frozen on the pavement, eyes trained on the burning building. You were shaking, and Gear was frozen in place. His body was splayed upon you, like a blanket. His eyes turned dark in a flash, his anger turning to you.

His hand clasped around your throat and pushed you against the pavement as you choked on air. Your hands scratched at his tight grip as his teeth clenched.

YOU BITCH,” he shrieked. “THEY’RE DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU. DARLA AND EDIE ARE DEAD. ALL BECAUSE OF YOU-”

GEAR!” shrieked a female voice. “LET GO OF HER!” His grip loosened as his eyes flitted to his sister, running towards the two of you. He stood and ran to her with tears in his eyes as you gasped for air. Breathing was a luxury.

As the Russet twins thanked god for their reunion and cried for their friend, you gasped for air and prayed to find the strength to get to your feet and find Aristotle...

*****
Our story approaches an ending. With Aristotle and Moran trapped in an explosion no One can survive, what's to happen next?

Is your benevolent author secret sadistic?

Oh, yeah. Definitely.

Have a nice day!

Silken ShacklesWhere stories live. Discover now