The Lion's Den

Chapter 22

     The scene in front of me stung my eyes, the smell crippling. It hurts to stand, my breath rattles. The fresh scent of blood disguised with bleach burned me, the consistent red clouded my mind. I feel as if I stand in front of a nuclear-radiated area, everything acidic and deadly. 

     The wall are a green concrete, splattered with blood in all shades of reds. A table with an odd assortments of objects lie in the corner. Things like cattle prongs, whips, wrenches,  strips of cloth, and the other items,  all covered in blood. 

     In the center, a chair. In the chair... Zivon. He's barley recognizable now, only his tattoos defining him. He is only in his now blood stained pants, his chest and arms have been shredded with what I can only identify as a knifes deep, harsh slashes. His body slumps, his head hangs. His arms and legs are secured to the wooden chair by chains that dig into his skin. I can't tell if he's alive. 

     "Zivon," His name wavers on my ragged breath. I wait for a response. Nothing. Terror consumes me. I will never let him go. It will always be my fault if he's dead...

     I approach him slowly, my legs moving for me. I notice the ceased gunfire. When I reach him, I gently weave my fingers into his matted hair. Brown blood glues his black locks together. 

     I can feel his head begin to lift, and I sigh in relief. Crouching next to him, I'm able to see his face for the first time. Bruises of purple, green, yellow, blue. Everywhere. Almost no skin is left untouched by a bruises hideous hues. 

     I meet his blood shot eyes. They're empty, defeated even. Sadness consumes me, fear racking throughout me. I worry that the burning flame inside of him has been extinguished, suffocated by the torture he surely endured here.   

     Watching his dark orbs glance rapidly over my face, recognition finally fills them. The breath I didn't realize I was holding escaped me. Without thought, I pulled Zivon off the chair as I embraced him. It was only when I heard him groan that I remembered he was to injured to hug me. A pang of guilt shoots through me. 

     I am about to sit him back down when I feel his arms weakly wrap around me. His body shakes, and I know we will need to get him to a hospital soon. His body is standing, but somehow impossibly limp. It's as if he is a bag of flour propped against a wall. Somethings not right.

     I begin to slide my arms away from him, but something stops me. Fresh, slick blood covering my right arm like paint. My mind hazed over in static as I looked at his body. His skin was ghostly pale. He's bleeding out. 

     A muffled voice is behind me, "We've secured the compound." I blank it out. I can't bring myself to care about anything except Zivon right now. I feel his body fall, and I try to stop it. His eyes are open, glassy and wide. His skin is sticky. I fall with him. 

     He's limp. I crawl toward his face, trying to hear his breath. If I wasn't so close, I would have never heard him over the shouts of his men trying to get to him. 

     "I love you," He breaths out, one last time. And like that, he's gone. 

     I'm suddenly shattered. I'm lost. It hurts. Why am I still breathing. I don't want to anymore. The hustle of yelling men surrounds me, and I'm pulled away from him. I stay in a ball on the floor.

     I didn't get the time to say it back. I didn't get time to tell him I love him. And now, he's gone. 

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I'm so sorry! This chapter hurt me to write. The book ISN'T OVER yet. There should be 1 more chapter out very soon!