Here comes the darkness
It's eating at my soul
Now that the spark has
Gone out of control
This fire is raging
I can't find the door
I just wanna die here
But you wanted more
Burn - The Pretty Reckless
Prologue: Escape
The lights flash from red to blue as the sprinklers try to extinguish the flames flourishing around her. There's a high pitched ringing in her ears that blocks out any sound. When she landed after the explosion, the air was knocked out of her. Now she takes a deep, gasping breath that no doubt makes her look like a fish. Smoke invades her lungs and her mouth tastes of ash. The back of her throat burns. Her torso feels as though she's been skewered with a pole. Her ribs are either disjointed or broken, possibly a combination of the two, and one of her arms is bent at an angle so awkward the bone inside must be shattered.
She watches several pairs of feet pass by her, some of them limping, some of them running, none of them hesitating for a second to leave her behind. Slowly, the ringing fades away only to be replaced by the wail of alarms. An automatic voice delivers a broken message over the speakers, but no one is left to hear it.
"-is a-" static. "-code r-" static. "-terminate all-" static. "-vacuate immedia-" static.
Repeat.
She can't feel her legs at all. That may be due to the sedative still working its way through her bloodstream, or she might have suffered sufficient damage to her spinal chord. Despite the rampant heat surrounding her, she feels cold. The saccharine taste of blood is beginning to coat her tongue.
She's so tired.
She's so…
So…
…
'WAKE UP!'
The alarm stops, so does the message.
Unaware she'd closed them in the first place, she reopens her eyes and sees that the lights have also stopped. The power must be out.
Her eyes latch onto a tendril of smoke, its movements slow and soothing. It curls in on itself, almost as if it's beckoning for her to follow it. Higher and higher it flies until it joins the mass of smoke leaking through the hole in the ceiling. It reveals a floor above her she'd never even known existed. She can just make out the reinforced steel bars of cages glinting in the firelight. The shadows of writhing figures are projected against the smoke. They look like ghosts.
Somewhere to her left, she hears the muffled sounds of crying and coughing.
How long has she been lying here? Seconds? Hours? Days?
Has she ever existed outside this inferno?
She can't remember anymore.
'Get up.'
A voice echoes through her head. They sound somewhat familiar, but she can't place why. Maybe she heard them in a dream once.
'You have to get out of there before the fire blocks the exit. Get up.'
She wants to argue, to tell the voice that she's too broken. She can't move, she can hardly breathe.
She just wants to sleep.
'That wasn't a suggestion, 118. That was an Order. NOW MOVE.'
And just like that, as if she was a marionette whose strings were pulled, her body picks itself up.
She wraps an arm around her stomach, offering little support to her scrambled insides, and limps lethargically towards what remains of the exit. Her breath comes in quick pants and almost every step is punctuated with a cough. She can feel blood trickling down her chin, but it dries up almost instantly due to the surrounding heat. She evades bits of debris and burning lab equipment as efficiently as possible, but she can hardly stand, let alone walk straight. She bumps into cement and stumbles over the remains of a gurney, but she doesn't stop walking. Glass digs into her soles, but she hardly feels it.
"Don't..." A hoarse voice begs. "Don't... leave... me."
She looks over her shoulder, her eyes locking with the terrified gaze of a scientist who's legs are pinned by a fallen beam.
Oh. She thinks. That's who was crying.
The scientist stretches a trembling hand towards her, tears reflecting the light of the fire.
"Please..."
But she doesn't stop.
She couldn't even if she wanted to. Her body is no longer her own.
She turns the corner just as the scientist begins screaming in pain. The sound echoes after her, bouncing off the walls over and over again until she isn't sure that she only left one person behind.
Somehow, her body manages to hobble about a quarter of the way down the hall before her injuries finally catch up to her. She begins coughing uncontrollably, her body quivering with the force as more and more blood fills her mouth.
'Keep going.' The voice is back, and her body again starts moving without her consent. 'You need to get as far away from here as you can. Don't stop until you find your pack.'
Her pack.
She needs to find her pack.
She closes her eyes and places her hand against the wall for guidance and balance as she keeps walking. If she stops again, she won't be getting back up. Concentrating, she searches the back of her mind for the tell-tale tickle of a bond. She hasn't tried to connect with anyone in so long, she can't even be sure any of them are still intact.
She finds one. It's quiet- weak- but there none the less.
Her senses dull, the world around her falling away until all she can focus on is the connection leading her to her pack.
She follows it.
Beyond a small forest she doesn't see, over dirt and rocks she doesn't feel, she follows it.
Past a freeway with honking cars she doesn't hear, she follows it.
For hours and days, she follows it.
Until she's close enough to smell her pack, she follows it.
Until her body collapses from exhaustion, and her aggravated wounds ache in a way that feels permanent, she follows it.
And when she can't follow it anymore, she sends a message out in the dark.
Find me.
Hello. Thanks for reading. The title of this fic comes from the song Running With the Wolves by Aurora.
~Chapter edited 1-29-2018~
