:T O R I N:
They were... jumping out the window?
He peered out the glass-less window, staring down. Immediately, Torin's face paled. He couldn't make a jump like that. Not in this condition. He'd die. He'd surely die. But, then again, he didn't know. Was he supposed to know? It was his body, after all. He knew it's limits. This had to be one of them.
Torin lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder, knowing the guards were on their way. Frowning, he decided he'd rather die than be captured again. In here, it was prison. Prison wasn't a happy place to be, contained in a cursed box like a lab rat. He hoisted himself up onto the window pane and stared down at the eight foot drop.
He was going to die.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed himself to bring the two fuzzy images of the two girls in his head. Faith, with her beautiful wavy blond hair and blue eyes, and Christine, with long straight brown hair like his own, and bright green eyes. Their smiles comforted him, and gave him the strength to push off.
Everything slipped from around him for a few weightless seconds. The feeling was incredible, and he could not even begin to describe it accurately. The few words that came into his head were bliss, freedom, and relief. But then, he heard five deafening cracks, and pain washed over him.
Torin willed his eyes to open. His head throbbed, and the sky above seemed to sway from side to side uneasily. Tears budded at the corners of his eyes and he turned his head, the two ropes of blood that had spiraled around him had splattered onto the metal singles of the roof. It looked like a murder scene.
Then he realized he was alive.
Bloodied and broken, but definitely alive.
That boy, with the light orange hair and fair skin, was shouting something. Something about running down the road. Was Torin supposed to run down a road? He couldn't remember. He attempted to push himself up, but his arm gave way and let out a horrible cracking sound. The tears had begun to fall and he whimpered, his entire body burning. Alright, so, his arm, shoulder, left wrist and it felt as though his ankle, were broken. The rest of the pain was impossible for him to pinpoint at that moment.
Torin spotted a black haired boy, (who, might he add, he recognized as the one who blew that guard's brains out) making his way off the roof he was on and down to the ground. Torin let out a shaky breath and attempted to follow his example, pushing down the roof onto the ground. But once he landed in the soil, he didn't get up.
He couldn't get up.
They were... jumping out the window?
He peered out the glass-less window, staring down. Immediately, Torin's face paled. He couldn't make a jump like that. Not in this condition. He'd die. He'd surely die. But, then again, he didn't know. Was he supposed to know? It was his body, after all. He knew it's limits. This had to be one of them.
Torin lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder, knowing the guards were on their way. Frowning, he decided he'd rather die than be captured again. In here, it was prison. Prison wasn't a happy place to be, contained in a cursed box like a lab rat. He hoisted himself up onto the window pane and stared down at the eight foot drop.
He was going to die.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed himself to bring the two fuzzy images of the two girls in his head. Faith, with her beautiful wavy blond hair and blue eyes, and Christine, with long straight brown hair like his own, and bright green eyes. Their smiles comforted him, and gave him the strength to push off.
Everything slipped from around him for a few weightless seconds. The feeling was incredible, and he could not even begin to describe it accurately. The few words that came into his head were bliss, freedom, and relief. But then, he heard five deafening cracks, and pain washed over him.
Torin willed his eyes to open. His head throbbed, and the sky above seemed to sway from side to side uneasily. Tears budded at the corners of his eyes and he turned his head, the two ropes of blood that had spiraled around him had splattered onto the metal singles of the roof. It looked like a murder scene.
Then he realized he was alive.
Bloodied and broken, but definitely alive.
That boy, with the light orange hair and fair skin, was shouting something. Something about running down the road. Was Torin supposed to run down a road? He couldn't remember. He attempted to push himself up, but his arm gave way and let out a horrible cracking sound. The tears had begun to fall and he whimpered, his entire body burning. Alright, so, his arm, shoulder, left wrist and it felt as though his ankle, were broken. The rest of the pain was impossible for him to pinpoint at that moment.
Torin spotted a black haired boy, (who, might he add, he recognized as the one who blew that guard's brains out) making his way off the roof he was on and down to the ground. Torin let out a shaky breath and attempted to follow his example, pushing down the roof onto the ground. But once he landed in the soil, he didn't get up.
He couldn't get up.