Drrr Drrr—
The distant rattle of gunfire clawed at Ado's fading consciousness, dragging him back from the edge of death. A shaky breath escaped his dry lips as he peeled open his heavy eyelids. The only thing he could see above was a cracked, dust-caked ceiling. Where the hell was he? How long had he been out?
He didn't know. All he knew was this: he was dying.
He tried to move, but his limbs betrayed him. They felt numb and useless. His senses were dulled too as if wrapped in cotton. His tongue was coated with a bitter taste, lips cracked and parched, nostrils clogged. The only sense that hadn't failed him was his hearing.
Gunfire rang out again, closer now. No, his hearing was clearing. He could pick up more. Amid the chaos, a twisted laugh echoed like something unhinged. Screams followed. Someone was having fun.
"Fucking move!! Damn it!"
