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“Dash!” I yell, not giving a fuck who I wake. Let them wake. They can get their sorry arses out of bed and help me hunt for my brother. He’s a stupid fucking idiot and I don’t know what he’s done, but I want him back safe and sound.
Even if it’s so I can kick his ass.
CANDY
The cold, damp air wraps around me like a suffocating shroud as I open my eyes to darkness. My body aches, and my senses are disoriented from the cold. I try to move, but my limbs feel heavy, as if shackled by an unseen force, even though I’m no longer chained up.
I sit up, feeling the hard, uneven surface beneath me. The floor is cold and unforgiving. The silence is oppressive, broken only by the sound of dripping water. It echoes like a cruel reminder of my isolation and reminds me of my burning thirst, which is back with a vengeance.
Time loses its meaning in this lightless void. I don’t know how long I’ve been here – hours, days, or perhaps even longer. The absence of natural light disorients my internal clock, and every moment feels like an eternity. I try to maintain a semblance of sanity by counting the echoes of my footsteps as I pace back and forth. One, two, three – a futile attempt to bring order to the chaos in my mind.
Loneliness creeps in, wrapping its tendrils around my thoughts. I yearn for human contact, for the warmth of another presence, but the only companions I have are the shadowsdancing on the walls. They mock me, elongating and contorting with every flicker of my feeble attempts to create light.
FROST
It’s been an eternity since the biting tang of fear tainted my mouth. The acrid taste, a cruel reminder of the countless missions and harrowing experiences I faced during my years in combat. The memories of watching my brothers, my comrades, lay their lives on the line for the sake of the mission still linger, haunting my every step. The intensity of that fear pales in comparison to the turmoil gripping my chest right now.
As I navigate the dimly-lit streets, each step seems to echo in the desolate silence that envelops me. The sporadic glow from the few functional street lamps casts eerie shadows, concealing dangers lurking in the debris-strewn alleyways. I dart past overturned bins, broken lamp posts, and the charred remnants of cars, my senses heightened, searching for any sign of him.
Frantically scanning the surroundings, I strain to catch a glimpse of his silhouette in the shadows. My breath catches when I finally spot movement further down the road, a glimmer of life beneath a feeble, flickering light. A lump lies haphazardly at the road’s edge, and as I approach, my voice trembles as I call out Dash’s name. There’s no response, only an unsettling stillness.
“Dash! What happened? Are you okay?” I plead, desperation clawing at my words as I drop to my knees beside him. Panic sets in as he remains unresponsive, and when I turn him over, my hand emerges coated in crimson. “Fuck!”
My phone is in my trembling hands, fingers jabbing the emergency button on my contacts leaving bloody smears on the screen. “I need help, now. Dash is hurt, bleeding from his chest. Pinging you my location. Call an ambulance!” The urgency in my voice is a raw manifestation of the fear gripping my soul.
As I wait for the ambulance, I hastily remove my jacket and press it against Dash’s wound, in a futile attempt to staunch the bleeding. His silence is deafening, and the dread settles like a lead weight in my stomach.
The distant wail of approaching sirens pierces the night, relief and dread intermingling. Within what feels like an eternity, but is likely mere minutes, the ambulance screeches to a halt, accompanied by the arrival of my brothers, silhouetted against the urban chaos.
Paramedics swarm Dash, their efficiency providing a stark contrast to the chaotic urgency that brought us here. The distant echo of gunfire from another street is a stark reminder that time is of the essence. The police are nowhere in sight, and we can’t afford to wait.
I help load Dash into the ambulance and leap into the back, urging the driver to go as fast as he can. The urgency intensifies as I try to keep Dash conscious, my voice a steady stream of reassurances that he’ll be okay, that we’ve got him. Yet, my own doubts linger beneath the surface.
As the ambulance hurtles towards the hospital, questions swarm my mind like a relentless storm. Who did this to Dash? And why? What malevolent force is at play? And where the hell is Candy?
My mind is aching with worry for her safety in the midst of this unfolding chaos. I thought I’d be mad – I’d predicted she was going to be nothing but trouble – but I’m consumed by crippling fear for her wellbeing. We can’t lose her. Can’t lose both of them.
The hospital emerges in the distance, its imposing structure a beacon of hope in the darkened night. The paramedics work with precision as they rush Dash through the emergency entrance, and I’m left standing there, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume me.
I glance at my bloodied hands, the residue of Dash’s suffering stark against my pale skin. The cold reality of the situation settles in, and I begin to shiver.
CANDY
Hunger gnaws at my stomach, a relentless reminder of my vulnerability. I search the cell for any sign of sustenance, but there is nothing – only the cold, unyielding bars and the damp, musty air. My throat is parched, and I lick my lips, tasting the desperation that clings to my every breath.
I find myself whispering into the darkness, talking to an imaginary audience, or perhaps to myself. The sound of my own voice offers a semblance of comfort, a reminder that I am still here, still alive. I recount stories, share memories, and even sing softly to break the oppressive silence that threatens to consume me.
Sleep becomes both a refuge and a torment. When it comes, my dreams are twisted, a kaleidoscope of fragmented memories and surreal visions. I wake up drenched in sweat, disoriented and yearning for the harsh reality of my prison cell. The darkness becomes my constant companion, a silent witness to my descent into despair.
In moments of desperation, I press my face against the cold bars, searching for any sign of the outside world. But all that’s there is an impenetrable darkness, a void that stretches endlessly beyond my confined space. I wonder if anyone evenknows I’m here, if anyone is searching for me. The thought of being forgotten terrifies me more than the prospect of never escaping.
WINT
Within minutes of the ambulance arriving at the hospital and them unloading Dash, we’re parked and racing towards Frost who’s standing outside the open ambulance doors, looking lost.
My brothers and I surround him, our expressions a mix of concern and determination. We exchange brief glances, words unnecessary in this moment of shared understanding. The gravity of our situation is etched in the lines on all of our faces.
Inside, the hospital staff spring into action. I watch, a helpless bystander, as they race away to try and save Dash’s life. I only hope it’s not too late.
