"Ahh... Ahh... Ahh... Argh!"
Zara clutched his stomach as he staggered forward through the darkness.
Blood continuously seeped between his fingers with every step feeling like stepping onto blades.
His body trembled uncontrollably.
One hand remained pressed against the wall to stop himself from collapsing.
Dark red streaks were left behind wherever his fingers touched.
Blood dripped from his stomach wound and splattered onto the stone floor beneath him.
The trail stretched farther and farther behind him.
"I... d-don't... w-want... to die..."
His voice broke apart between sobs.
Tears streamed endlessly down his pale face, cold sweat soaked his hair and clothes.
The winter air should have made him shiver.
Instead, he felt hot.
Terribly hot.
The fear of death had already consumed his thoughts.
This was the first time he had ever been shot; this was the very first time he had ever felt death standing directly behind him.
Waiting and watching.
Ready to take him.
