Defeat.
The lone figure dashed through the deserted intertwining city streets at a rapid pace; not knowing where he was going, frantically trying to get away from his pursuers as he fought with the darkness. His black shirt clung to his skin as the wind blew against him, determined to slow him down. His shoes padded against the concrete roads and dirt trails as he tried to force his arms and legs to move faster. He could hear the foreign shouts in the distance and the fact that they weren't fading was worrying. They knew this place and could have people all over it in minutes. He was lost to his surroundings as he ran with his pulse pounding in his chest.
He rounded a corner and pushed off of the wall with a hand as though it would somehow propel him further away from the advancing shadows. He took short breaths as he urged his lungs to stop complaining and his ribs to stop aching, they'd taken a slight beating before he'd been taken off of the boat; this was the last thing they needed. He closed his eyes as he moved on, darting down alleyways and hopping over trash; avoiding anything which could stop his escape.
He turned and rounded another corner when he herd the shouts behind him, louder this time, clearer ever. At least the gun shots had stopped, he thought as he pressed on, urgently looking for an escape route. He could be going in circles for all he knew. Tearing down another street he risked a glance behind him and could see men in their green uniforms with there shaved heads chasing after him, advancing upon his despite his desperate effort to evade them.
Seeing another corner he realised this would be his last chance to lose them, if he were fast enough. Taking a deep breath he lowered his head and urged himself to go quicker. The balls of his feet were hurting from the pressure and the ache in his head got stronger as he rounded the corner and approached last chance to escape. He ran round the corner and straight onto the street, he was oblivious of the black car until it drove straight into him, knocking him off of his feet.
He hit the bonnet with a sickening crack and felt his head dint the windshield of the vehicle. It happened so fast he wasn't sure just what was happening; the force of the impact threw him over the roof and he hit the tarmac with a deadly thump before rolling to a stop. He tried to move, but the rawness and sudden intensity of the pain which engulfed him was too much, everywhere ached and his head was heavy. He saw the advancing men and the officer who climbed out of the car barking orders at them; he smiled at the man pleased with his hit.
The captive tried to move, he had to get away; but all he could manage was a feeble attempt to crawl before he collapsed back down to the road. The concrete was cold against his hot skin; he was still exhausted from the run, his heaving chest evidence of this. They were standing around him calmly, celebrating the catch, he knew. He couldn't make out the individual voices of the men; they all blurred into one long scream which ran through his ears and wouldn't stop. The faces of the men were swirling around with no focus; he felt as though he were on a fair ride being hurtled through the air or rushing down the drop of a rollercoaster at breakneck speed. It was too much, he thought dejectedly; he hadn't gotten away.
As the darkness seeped in he thought about the swirling faces, how they all looked and sounded the same as they mocked him; curled up on the road unable to move. More darkness clouded in and he was grateful for it; he didn't want to stay awake for whatever would happen next. He drifted away thinking about the irony of the darkness - it had been an opponent dampening his vision as he had ran; but not it was definitely an ally. It wouldn't last it would still take him away from here.