Run and run and run and…

Slip, fall. Rain-slicked ground sliding out from beneath his feet. Clothing utterly soaked, hands bleeding. Get up again and keep moving, because if he didn't he would lose sight of the ghost—

Turn and—nothing. Just blackness and empty space. There was no ground beneath his feet and nothing to take hold of, so he fell down and down and down.

Scared, he was so scared. There was no light here. There was nothing, he was all alone, he was…

Afraid.

Hands groping through oblivion.

"Where, where?"

Had to find it, he had to—

"Where is it? Where?"

It was gone.

"Give it back!"

Falling through empty air. There was no ground to hit.

"Help me!"

Cold hands crawled up his legs. They seized his arms and scratched his face and dragged him down some more—

"Stop it! Stop it, help!"

Fight to breath, claw up where light was. Break the surface and search, search for the moon and stars but

Nothing

Was

There.

The world shattered.

"Move, move! No, not an ambulance! We need to get him to Hakase's!"

….

…

The landscape was unfamiliar.

Red—not blood red, it was deep maroon and black. Dead land, burnt trees, not a single living being in sight.

Chains on his wrists, digging into the skin and making it bleed. Liquid scarlet flowing into a river. Something was choking him—

Feet dangled off a cliff. The demons around him laughed, the spirits shrieked. Sharp-nailed fingers caressed his cheeks, crooning in his ears.

"Where—"

"Shh, shhhh… Just sleep."

"N-no!"

"Shhhhh…"

"I can't… I—"

"Sleep…"

…

"How is he?"

"Bad. There's a bullet in his chest. It didn't hit his heart, but he's running low on blood. We can't bring him to a hospital, obviously. They'd kill him."

"Can't ya do a blood transfer?"

"Do you really think we have that sort of technology here?"

"Well ya were able to invent antidotes to the Ahotoxin."

"It's pronounced Apotoxin. This place is a lab, anyway, not the emergency room. Forgive me if I do not have access to whatever your whims desire."

"Calm down. Look, what's his condition?"

"To put it in the most simple terms, he has suffered from drastic blood loss. His pulse his weak, and his heart is too slow. In other words, his body does not have the energy to recover properly. If he makes it through the night, he may have a fighting chance. Currently, the rate of his survival is about 30/70."

"Seventy being…?"

"The likeliness of death."

…

…

Shadows seeping into maroon, crawling closer. The boy shrank back and away, terror coursing through his body. Rearing up, the darkness seeming to laugh at him, then sinking back down to come closer and closer and

"S-Stay away…"

Tendrils split off, wrapping around feet and hands, curling against a heaving chest. Consuming him greedily, constricting around a feeble neck—so easy to just snap it.

Shrieks splitting the silence, then cut off into gurgles.

Floating away, unable to stop. So weak, so fragile… Couldn't move. Drifting helplessly, tears streaming down soft flesh (so easy to slice, to break) into a river of blood. Slipping under—crimson rushing down his throat, filling eyes and ears and nose, overtaking ever sense. Choking him, dominating, filling his core with horror.

Hit the bottom, bones splintering beneath his weight. A raven calls, voice distorting, caw becoming something dark and deep to strike fear in the hearts of the brave—

The river of blood flowing endlessly on, laying in a pile of bones, nostrils burning with the reek of

Death.

"He's dying."

"N-no—"

"Shhhh."

"P-please. Don't t-take him away. Don't let him d-die. Ple-ase."

"There's still a chance. He won't give up that easily. Not him. Not after all he's fought for."

"He has a ten percent chance—"

…

…

Voice cooing in his ear.

"Just sleep.

"I c-can't…"

"You can. Just close your eyes, it's so easy. You'll never have to fight ever again…"

"But—"

"Shhhh. Close your eyes. It's alright."

"…I…"

"He probably won't make it."

"I don't care. There's no way he'd die like that… not after everything."

"Hattori-kun, people die all the time. Just because he's 'done so much' doesn't single him out. He has a five percent chance of survival now, maybe less! I won't stop trying to save him, but you have to listen to the facts. Isn't that what detectives do?"

"…"

…

…

Chains growing tighter and tighter. A noose around his neck, dangling him over the jagged cliff. A single hand gripping the edge, keeping him alive. Muscles burning, fingers cramping, vision blurring with tears.

"Just let go. It won't hurt."

"I can't… They—they're waiting for me."

"No one is waiting for you. Just let go…"

"They are."

"Their names then. What are their names? Even one will do."

"It's…"

"You can't remember? Then why struggle? No one is waiting for you. Come on. If you let go, I will catch you. I will stay with you and protect you and you'll never be afraid again."

"But they're waiting."

"They aren't. It's okay. Don't be afraid."

"Is he awake?"

"No."

"…Is there anything we can do?"

"Hope. And if you believe in such a thing, pray."

Rope growing tighter. Lightheaded, wanted to let go so badly. He couldn't… Someone was waiting for him…

Who?

Hand relaxing just a bit. Another nudge closer down. Just a bit more—he'd never have to fight…

"I can't…"

The hand went limp.

And he fe—

More hands, grabbing his, pulling him up. Glorious light exploding in his vision. Felt so warm, so safe.

Reaching up, groping for them but they were too far—

So someone gave him a boost and he could reach them and he was finally—

Blue eyes opened.

"Kudo!"

"Shinichi!"

"Good to see you, Kudo-kun."

He sank into unconsciousness a moment later, a blissful, dreamless sleep.

But

He had made it through the night.

:l Half hour after writing this and I still don't understand. Originally intended to be about KID, but my muses attacked me with Conan Doyle's works and glasses.

Or something like that.

...Wow, would you lookit that? Thirty chapters (and only 34/5,000 words, goddammit). I kind of wish I had some longer chapters but... whatever. xD You guys seem to enjoy the... stuff... I come up with.

I'm honestly not sure when I'll stop this. Maybe once/if I hit 100 Oneshots. If I do reach that mark, I guess I'd just make a new Oneshot series. So we're almost-not-quite a third of the way done!

("Oh, joy," the muses muttered. "She wants us to come up with more crap to write about.")