Fire… it was everywhere. Oh god the smoke was choking her. She would die in here, she knew it.
And she would welcome that death she thought for one delirious moment.
How glorious it would be to die consumed by this beauty. By this rage. She closed her eyes.
A rough hand on her shoulders brought her back premature into the world of the living.
"Christine!" Raul screamed frantically in her face, his mouth and nose obscured by the damp white rag that had been his shirt. She had fallen suddenly beside him and for anxious moments he thought her gone. The spectacle of her momentarily unconscious body lying sprawled with what looked like the most peaceful smile he had seen from her in months had shocked him.
But no she was not dead. Not his Christine.
Thank God, they would make it, they would make it, they would make it. He had not descended the depths of Hell for naught.
She startled into reality at the shock of white silk plastered on his face, so much like a mask, a mask from another time. It was spattered in blood…
No… not another time, she mused to herself, mere moments, but an eternity nonetheless.
Allowing Raul to haul her too her feet, they locked hands and ran through the darkness and fire into mere uncertainty.