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His gaze was searching about the apartment, ultimately meeting Michele's on the floor.
He tried to shake his head. He tried to move. But he was in too much pain to be able to do either. Michele could only stare at Solomon, watching his precious expression turn sad as he saw his father bleeding on the ground.
Yet it was too late.
The red light, the same one that had hit Michele, was now flickering towards Solomon, moving around his body until one dot settled on his forehead.
"No, bud, no," Michele spoke fervently, yet the words were mere whispers. His eyes watered, his mind rebelling at what he was seeing. He felt the helplessness to his core, the way he could only watch his son but unable to warn him—protect him.
He was his father, damn it. And yet, the most he could do was crawl one more inch, bleed one more drop—all in an attempt to save him.
But it wasn't enough.
"Daddy," Solomon called out that sweet word, taking one step forward before the dot became one hole and he fell.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
The sound was wrenched from him, erupting in the air as he witnessed the life go out of Solomon's eyes, his body unmoving on the ground.
It happened in a split of a second.
A second in which his entire world ended.
"Kill him," the man ordered, giving Michele an indifferent look before striding out of the apartment. Yet it was in that moment that his features were forever ingrained in Michele's mind.
There was enemy, and there was foe. There was death and there was inferno. There was a promise, and there was a vow. For Michele, unconsciously, it was all the latter.
One last shot, and Michele's eyes fluttered closed.
The men were out of the building by the time Andreas made it to the apartment, finding a dead Solomon and a Michele that wasn't far behind.
Tears, anguish and a vow of vengeance.
Andreas did everything in his power to ensure that his friend survived.
He didn't.
That night Michele died a second time.
And yet again, he was still alive.
But the world… The world would never be the same.
* * *
The memories wereraw and painful. But now, more than ever, heneededthat pain more than he needed air to breathe. Deep down he could feel himself at the edge of the precipice, staring into the abyss that was his fate, ready to make the final choice.
Before, he'd had no issue imagining the jump. He'd draped himself in steel so the fall would come quicker—more efficient, lethal. Now, there was a voice in his ear that almost made his head turn. One that whispered and beckoned and made him hesitate as he took the last step towards the unyielding void.
Michele knew what needed to be done and had planned all the steps he was going to take towards his ultimate direction.
Then why was he faltering? Why was he…weakening?
The answer was immediate, as was the uneven beat of his heart.
There was only one person guilty of the confusion in his mind and heart. One person who made him lose every bit of sense he had left.
Hewasweakening.
