🏆 WATTPAD CREATORS PROGRAM 🏆
🏆 8CC November - December 2023 Completer 🏆
𝘛𝘏𝘙𝘌𝘌. 𝘛𝘞𝘖. 𝘖𝘕𝘌. 𝘉𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯.
Thirteen remembers one thing from the moment he woke up: live on, through whatever means necessary. When he is thrown into a society...
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Karrel's breaths rang in her ears as she ran back to headquarters, Daylin's arm slung on her shoulder. "Hang on," she rasped, fighting through the tears pricking the side of her eyes. "We're almost there."
Daylin didn't move. Didn't even raise her head to tell Karrel to calm the fuck down. She didn't say they could weather this together. She couldn't. The bullet hit Daylin straight into the spine. Karrel wasn't a doctor or a surgeon, but if they were lucky, Daylin would be paralyzed from the neck down. If they weren't...
She squeezed her eyes shut, dispelling the grimmer idea from her head. She'd take paralyzed Daylin over the other alternative. Please. No. Not yet.
They charged through the twisted undergrowth. Karrel's fingers clawed through the tangle of vines and rough branches. Scratches were nothing. Daylin was in more pain. The domed roof of the headquarters burst into view. So close. Come on. Just a little more.
A groan flitted from Daylin's lips. Her eyes oscillated underneath her lids as if she was stuck inside an endless dream. Karrel swallowed her sob and forced her legs to go faster, to widen her steps. She prayed for time to stop or at least slow down.
They stumbled through the lobby. Bodies pressed against her, and a strong current tore Daylin from her. Despite her squirming, the force around her arms didn't let go. Her eyes lost thread, and tears streamed freely. It didn't matter that her comrades saw her slapping the ground with blood matting her hair. Nothing mattered if Daylin wasn't there.
With a scream, she ripped herself out of the vise-like grip around her and lunged forward. "She'd be fine, right?" Karrel shook the first person between her fingers. Her nails dug against a joint, but that was the least of her concern. Other's pain was secondary. "Tell me she'll be fine."
Slowly, Verez's face sharpened from the ebbing haze brought about by her tears. "I'm sorry, Karrel," he said, gripping her wrists and easing her hold off his sleeve. "She's gone. Without a healer...we couldn't save her in time."
The last of Karrel's strength seeped out her soles. Her knees cracked against the floor. It took her a while to realize she hadn't left the lobby, and now, her comrades carted out a body on a stretcher. The white sheet over what used to be Daylin was the final confirmation.
She's gone. And it was the gunner's fault.
Karrel's fists clenched over her folded legs. Someone was out for her life, and Daylin saved her from that fate. What did it cost? They still had Verez even if Karrel died, so why did Daylin get into the line of fire to save her? No one could replace Daylin. She was too perfect for that. If they were after her ability...
A nail snapped. She looked down to find a jagged crescent stuck into a spot on her palm. Her blood joined Daylin's in having a feast on her skin. It was going to be a while before she could forget how they looked stained with red.
It didn't matter why they were after Daylin and Section H. Karrel would bring them down and make them regret touching her and her comrades. They would pay, and if it was the last thing she did, then, she'd do it with flair.
