Two bronzed hands peeked out of the sewer. The two hands were connected to a weakened body, marred with bite marks and covered in blood. But the body still pushed on, forcing its way out the dark, damp hole. Tufts of rust-colored hair started to peek out of the sewer. A pair of greenish eyes slowly followed. Soon, the whole face appeared, etched with determination. The figure continued to pull the rest of its body out until all that was left was its legs. The bronze hands clawed at the asphalt road, gripping and pulling until the whole body was out at last.
Now that he was out of the dark pit, you could see that the figure's features were distinctly male. His toned, naked chest that led to muscled arms was covered in a thick layer of blood. He didn't make much noise, only slow, ragged breaths escaped from his mouth. His ocean eyes were distant, lost in wonder. How long would he allow himself to bleed out?
An undetermined amount of time passed until the man tried to move again. He moved himself into a sitting position, and a standing position followed. He tested his feet, which moved in an awkward gait. Mustering up of what looked like the last of his courage, he picked up speed towards a destination known only to himself. A trail of blood traced his path, but he didn't appear to care. He also didn't appear to care that his injuries were life threatening. What he did care about is a mystery, although his lips formed and repeated one name,
"Annie."