Manhunt

Clinging to life

Slipping into the dim passageway, Ryiah startled as lights went on as the door closed. She looked around if she wasn´t alone. But hearing nothing but electricity running in the wires on the ceiling. She glanced both ways, trying to decide which way to continue.

Ryiah tried to recall the occasions when she was here years ago, Ryiah went left hoping it was the right path. It confused her when she had noticed the door wasn´t locked, but there was no guarantee the doors to the weaponry would be open as well.

Ryiah doubted they were that sloppy. But then again, if it was open, Ryiah could get her weapon’s back now and there wouldn’t be the need for getting back again. Sometimes luck was on their side and she prayed this was one of those times.

She peered around the corners as the passage took turns, Ryiah thought she would never find a way out. When she looked around another corner, she let out a satisfied sigh as the corridor turned into a lobby.

Seeing two staircases, it caused Ryiah to frown in confusion. One staircase led up while the other seemed to go down.

“I don’t remember this place…” she muttered, stepping forward, ears high tuned for the quietest voices as she neared the staircases and continued looking around baffled.

Sighing, Ryiah halted in front of the entrants, thinking which one to choose when she heard steps coming from behind her.

Twirling around Ryiah stared at the looming corridor, listening steps coming closer and looking around she hoped her next decision was the wise one.

Running through the stairwell heading up, Ryiah panted while running as quick as she could until she reached an intermediate platform associated with two passageways.

Gazing left and then right, Ryiah chose the left one, disappearing from the view just in time as the person entered the same staircase.

“Maybe I should have just checked the door and leave it there and come back with Charon,” Ryiah mumbled a little out of breath as she approached the end of the corridor and twirled around, searching for a way out. Much to her horror, it looked as she had cornered herself.

“This is not happening…” Ryiah cursed, struggling to figure out what to do as the steps resounded in the corridor, coming closer. But when she glanced around her for the second time, she saw a door in an inset she hadn’t spotted at first.

Without giving it much thought, she reached for the door handle, sending a prayer for the unlocked door and much to her relief it was open.

Pushing the door ajar, Ryiah slid through, closing it as quietly as possible.

Catching her breath, Ryiah pressed her forehead against the door, thanking Gods for the narrow escape. She was about to turn around and have a look where she had entered when she froze while holding her breath.

The footsteps echoed in the passageway, getting closer to Ryiah´s hiding place.

“Give me a rest would you?” Ryiah huffed, turning to look where she had entered. A few lights on the roof provided a slight light so she wouldn´t have to tumble in absolute blackness.

Ryiah stared at endless rows of old, dusty bookshelf backed with boxes but she didn´t have time to ponder where she was when the steps halted and Ryiah heard someone turn the handle.

Without thinking, Ryiah pushed herself off the door and ran at another end of the room, hearing the door opening.

Ryiah sneaked quickly and secretly between the shelves, covering at the end of one line, leaning against the shelf, trying to be as flat against it as possible while listening keenly.

The person walked in the archive and closed the door behind them.

Whoever stepped into the room, ambled across the room as if seeking for something while murmuring to themselves until they located the right bookshelf.

Ryiah turned cautiously her head to check who it was. Through the space of the shelves, Ryiah could scarcely make out the person who was staying two rows away from her.

Narrowing her eyes, Ryiah struggled to find out who this individual was when they shifted around abruptly and Ryiah ducked with a slight gasp, her eyes wide.

“Crap!!” Ryiah cursed.

Why him?!

Ryiah wanted to grumble but the fact that Bernand was only 6 feet away from her forced Ryiah to bite her tongue until she tasted blood.

Bernand narrowed his eyes when he heard something. He was certain he was alone, but picking up a weak gasp coming from someplace near made him suspect that.

Putting down the file he had picked up out of one box, he approached the other side of the shelf, holding his gaze in the direction he had heard the sound. His hand moved for the handle of his dagger while drawing closer and jumped forward when he reached the spot he assumed the trespasser was hiding.

But there was no one.

Bernand frowned while glaring at the empty spot before raising his gaze tracking the next row, considering if whoever was in here had replaced their hiding place.

Walking to the next lane, Bernand didn´t see anything out of ordinary and Bernand was about to abandon the idea of searching the whole archive when he heard the door being opened with urgency.

With a curse, Bernand ran toward the door, yanking it open, and stepped out just in time to see the person sprinting halfway through the corridor toward the staircase.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Bernand growled, running after them as fast he could.

Making a hard turn when he reached the platform and staring down he saw the person skipping two steps at a time to get away. Lifting the dagger in his hand, Bernand aimed before throwing it with a grunt.

The throw wasn´t clean, but Bernand could hear the cry of pain as the dagger tore the flesh before hitting the floor with a metallic sound. The person kept running despite the injury, but Bernand could hear their pace slowing down.

Bernand smiled as he realized he had injured the person, but he wasn´t sure where the dagger had hit. 

Descending the stairs, he looked around while picking the dagger and noticed blood on the floor.

“You won’t get far with that injury.” He chuckled putting the dagger back on its holster resuming the chase.

Ryiah gritted her teeth as the burning pain extended up to her hip, although she tried to ignore it. Sweat formed on her forehead and her eyesight was blurring, making it difficult to see where she was going, but Ryiah urged herself to keep moving.

The dagger had slashed a deep gash on her left thigh and Ryiah knew if she didn´t get help soon she would pass out and could bleed to death.

Halting for a second supporting herself against the wall, she removed her belt using it as a tourniquet, hoping it would buy her more time to get out of here and back to Charon and Theia. That was her only hope to survive.

“Idiot.” Ryiah cursed her stupidity while placing the belt around her thigh. Pulling as hard as she could to get it tight, Ryiah screamed from the pain, causing her almost blackout.

Every sound became muffled while her eyes fluttered and the grip on the belt loosened. Her breath ragged, Ryiah started slitter on the floor when hurried footsteps echoing in the corridor forced her to focus.

“I can´t let him catch me again. I won’t give him the satisfaction.” Ryiah mumbled and using sheer willpower, she regained enough clarity to keep moving.

She was almost there. Ryiah could see the door that led out of this hellhole and into the main hall where she hoped Charon and Theia still were.

Ignoring the excruciating pain and approaching steps behind her, Ryiah limped the final meters reaching for the door handle and pushing the door open exited the corridor making a few steps forward with a tired smile.

She let out a relieved sigh, but her strength, at last, failed her. Ryiah was seconds away from collapsing when Bernand dashed out the corridor slamming his body against Ryiah´s and they both went tumbling down onto the floor.

Ryiah let out a pained cry, earning everyone’s attention in the hall, including Charon’s who still had Theia holding his arm.

Hearing a cry of pain, Charon turned around, his eyes searching for the source and as soon as his gaze landed on Ryiah, his body went rigid and his eyes widened with horror.

Ryiah was lying on the floor trying to fight off Valentianus´s henchman who sat on her lower back with a determined expression on his face.

Charon could see something was wrong because getting out of a risky situation was a simple task for someone as Ryiah, but now she was struggling.

Charon pried himself off of Theia´s grip and leapt into action, running toward the fighting couple while people around them were too shocked to do nothing other than watch the scene before them.

Ryiah tried to get Bernand off of her back but the blood loss and his arm around her neck caused the little strength she had left, slip away. She was too weak to fight him anymore when something hit them forcing Bernand off of her and she gasped for air, rolling on her side with a cough.

While Charon was fighting with Bernand, Theia came beside Ryiah looking horrified as Ryiah laid on the floor clinging for life.

“Someone call the ambulance!” Theia cried, looking around, cursing that she had left her phone into her bedroom.

“No….no hospital…” Ryiah replied, her voice so feeble, Theia struggled to hear and pausing she gazed at Ryiah, frowning.

“No, hospital…” Ryiah said again.

“Darling, you need to go to the hospital. You’re bleeding!” Theia tried to reason with Ryiah, but she shook her head.

“No hospital…” Ryiah repeated, slipping in and out of consciousness.

“What….why you have to be stubborn at a time like this?” Theia whined, lifting her gaze just in time to see Charon smacking Bernand with ease against the wall, earning Bernand to groan when he hit the floor.

Charon gripped the collar of Bernand´s coat lifting him and pinned the man between the wall and his own body.

“If I ever see you near her again, I will make you regret you were even born. Am I making myself clear?” Charon growled next to Bernand´s ear, a growl so deep it resonated in the henchman’s chest, earning Bernand´s lower lip quiver for a moment.

“Am I making myself clear?!” Charon repeated, smacking Bernand´s upper body against the wall again.

Bernand grunted under Charon’s piercing glare and swallowed hard a pure fear creeping into his heart as he tried to avoid looking at the ice-blue eyes inches away from his face.

“Crystal..” Bernand muttered and yelped when Charon dropped him, turning around and walking away from him.

“Valentianus needs to hear this,” Bernand mumbled, rubbing the back of his head while trying to sit. 

Charon walked up to Theia and Ryiah, noticing Ryiah was slipping out of consciousness. Crouching down he glanced at Theia who bit her lip.

“She refuses to go to the hospital,” she whispered, making Charon sigh and close his eyes.

“Of course she does. That leaves only one choice.” Charon muttered and with one fluid motion scooped Ryiah into his arms and took off toward the front doors, Theia right behind him.

“What choice??” Theia shouted, following Charon outside, confused and concerned. She couldn’t understand the reason someone would refuse to go to the hospital when they were bleeding to death.

Charon didn´t waste time trying to explain that hospitals were the last place an assassin wanted to go, injured or not.

They wanted to avoid leaving any records behind like blood or any information that could help the wrong people to recognize them and come after them.

“Hold on, I´m going to fix you, just hold on a little longer,” Charon whispered while running like the devil was after them toward a parking lot where he had parked his car.

As the parking lot came into his view Charon sped up his pace approaching the black sports car.

“Open the door,” Charon ordered nodding toward the car glancing at Theia who was staring at the car with wide eyes.

“You own a mustang?” she quipped for a minute, forgetting the dire situation.

“Theia!” Charon snapped, making her jump and reach for the car door.

“Sorry,” she murmured, watching as Charon manoeuvred Ryiah from his arms at the back seat and slammed the door shut.

“Sit in the back. Make sure she stays awake.” Charon barked his orders while opening the driver’s door and sat behind the wheel. Theia hurried around the car climbing in the back seat placing Ryiah´s head onto her lap.

Charon turned the key and shifted gear making the engine roar before he reversed and hit the pedal taking off with full speed toward the house he was staying.

Charon’s expression was dead as he gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, ignoring the fact he was speeding. Fear and guilt consumed his mind at the thought that Ryiah could die.

Why he didn´t stop Ryiah from going alone through that door? Why he didn´t go with her?

Glancing at the rear mirror he saw how Theia whispered in Ryiah´s ear, trying to keep her awake while wiping the sweat from Ryiah´s forehead.

Charon would never forgive himself if Ryiah died on his watch. He had lost her once; he refused to lose her again.

“How is she doing?” Charon asked, his voice sounding hoarse, and when he met Theia´s worried gaze through the mirror, coldness gripped his heart like an ice serpent.

“Drive faster…” Theia whispered, tears glistening in her eyes, and Charon’s throat tightened at that very moment. Pressing the pedal down he sped up praying every God there was in Kyrre to spare her life.

The twenty-minute drive felt longer when Charon turned the car to the yard and shut the engine. Climbing out the car Charon opened the door and careful not to cause any extra pain he gathered Ryiah into his arms while Theia circled the car looking like she was about to burst into tears.

“Take the keys from my right pocket,” Charon instructed, waiting for Theia to take the keys and open the front door. Striding the stairs to the deck, Charon headed right toward the second floor into his bedroom that had a bathroom.

“Lock the door and come up to help me!” Charon called halfway through the stairs, making Theia fumble with her hands as she struggled to put the chain on the door in place.

“f**k!!” she sniffled, wiping her eyes when at last with fourth try she succeeded and rushed the stairs up to find Charon.

“Where are you?” Theia called with a tremble in her voice when she reached the top of the stairs.

“Second door, in the bathroom!”

Theia ran through the open door and straight into the bathroom. She halted in the doorway, covering her mouth when she saw Ryiah lying on the blood-covered floor. Charon had ripped the trouser leg revealing the wound and was at the moment wiping the blood so he could see what he was doing.

“Don´t just stand there! Come over here, I need you to press the wound as hard as you can!” Charon ordered his voice harsh and it made Theia flinched but hurried next to Ryiah taking the towel from Charon and started pressing the wound while Charon stood up and ran out the room.

“Ciroc!” Theia screamed, seeing he had left her alone with Ryiah. Looking down at the towel, Theia wasn´t sure she was much help.

She grimaced when the towel turned dark red, smudging her hands. The blood felt warm and gooey under her fingers.

Theia glanced at Ryiah´s face and almost reeled back. Her face was ashen, the colour drained from her skin and with panic, Theia turned to look at Charon who came back just in time before she could freak out.

“What are you doing?” she asked, watching Charon crouching down with a first aid kit.

“I need to stitch her before she loses too much blood.”

“Have you done this before?” Theia asked sceptically as she saw Charon opening the kit and taking what he needed.

“More times I care to count,” he grunted, reaching for the sink washing his hands.

Theia glanced at Ryiah´s face one more time, wondering what sort of profession these two had when Charon’s shadow earned her to shift her focus back to him.

“Toss the towel, take the belt and pull as hard as you can while I stitch the wound. Can you do that?” Charon asked. He looked her right into her eyes searching any doubt but as Theia nodded, he offered a small smile.

They set to work in silence, settling in the bathroom as Charon closed the wound as fast as he could while Theia made sure the bleeding stopped. What felt like hours Charon finally sew the last stitch and leaned back sitting on his heels.

The bleeding had stopped, and the stitches seemed to hold so they could let out a relieved sigh.

Theia wrapped the thigh with the bandage while Charon gathered the items back to the kit and placed it onto the bathtub’s edge. Carefully, he lifted Ryiah up from the floor and carried her into the bedroom. Lowering her on to his bed, Charon looked hesitant for a moment as he figured he would have to strip Ryiah´s bloodied clothes off of her.

“Theia?” he asked, waiting for her to appear in the doorway, an inquisitive expression on her face.

“Yes?”

“Can you take her clothes off of her? They’re bloodied…” Charon asked, sounding unsure. It was adorable in Theia´s opinion and nodding, she agreed to help.

“I’ll clean the bathroom in the meantime,” Charon replied absentmindedly. He needed something to do so he wouldn´t go crumbling down at the fear of losing Ryiah.

He walked around the bed avoiding to look Theia in the eyes and disappeared into the bathroom closing the door behind him.

Leaning against the door, Charon closed his eyes while clamping the bloodied hand on his mouth to muffle the sob. His entire body trembled as he tried to fight the tears as images of Ryiah lying on the floor unconscious flashed behind his eyes.

“Please…” he sobbed sliding onto the floor giving in and letting tears stream down his cheek.

“Please don´t die…” Charon whispered, terrified of the thought that Ryiah wouldn´t make it.

If this was God Cian´s way of punishing him for his past mistakes, in Charon’s mind it was a cruel one.