11. Out Cold

Eleven

Out Cold

T he exit door in the room automatically swings open, drawing me in with an unsettling invitation. Meanwhile, the men's side stays sealed, strobe lights pulsing in a chaotic rhythm. The fog thickens, enveloping the space in a sinister, almost ominous mist that seems to claw at the sight of any clear visual. My heart races as I realize I need to make a choice and quickly.

Do I choose myself? Or do I give a fighting chance and go after Ghost? If I'm dead, I'm no help to either of us. But I can't just leave him. I've known him only a few hours, and something inside of me pulls my heartstrings when I'm near him. Maybe it's the fact that I finally found someone who I can show my darkness to and they don't go running and hiding.

Taking a deep breath, I glance at the exit, then back at the fog-filled room. I smack myself in the head repeatedly, trying to gain some sense of control over my spiraling thoughts. The idea of leaving Ghost gnaws at my conscience, making it hard to think straight. "Run!" I hear my voice echoing in my head, desperate and urgent. A dim light bulb flickers in my mind, hinting at a possible plan. "I'm talking to myself. That's okay; it's totally normal. I'm not freaking out. No, I am freaking out, fuck!" The words spill out in a frantic whisper as I try to steady my racing heart. I can do this. I just need to focus and take one step at a time.

"If I run, they will assume that I fled the area. They will spread out looking for me, thinking I took off like a bat out of hell." I ran into a crowded area where people watched a magic show. Everyone here was nearly shoulder to shoulder. This is where everyone was instead of in the not-so-fun, fun house.

Looking over my shoulder, the view through my mask is a bit hazy, but it seems like I didn't get followed, which is great. Good. I need to catch my breath and build up my stamina. I need to trail back to Ghost and find out if he's okay and alive. The thought of him lying somewhere hurt or worse, because of me, gnaws at my conscience. When I said I'd be his undoing, I didn't mean that I'd be the reason he died. Who would want to die over a girl they just met? It's absurd, yet here I am, feeling the weight of his fate on my shoulders.

Ghost was a stranger not even hours ago, but in the short time we've been together, he's become so much more than just an ally. He's woven himself into the fabric of my life, becoming an essential part of who I am. It's remarkable how quickly someone can go from being unknown to potentially someone l risk my life for.

I can't believe it. How did I let it come to this? All I wanted was a piece of ass to use as a distraction in my chaos-filled life. But the feeling I get in my chest around him reminds me that I'm alive. He unlocked something in me. Something so small has created a bond I didn't anticipate. Nor did I think it could ever happen again, especially with another Ghost. Maybe he was sent by the universe, making up for not being able to fulfill my desires with the first man ever to make me feel whole.

On the other hand, I feel like he is my responsibility, regardless of the circumstances. I brought him into this mess, and I will not lose this man. Not now, not ever. There's a bond that has formed between us, one forged in the heat of danger and the shadows of uncertainty. The Army taught me never to leave anyone behind, and I won't start that tonight.

The night air is cold, gnawing at my skin as I make my way back towards the fun house. Every shadow appears to shift, and every sound is magnified in the stillness, causing me to jump at the slightest noise and forcing my attention to zero in on everything around me.

My heart is racing with a mixture of fear and determination. I can't let those men find me before I can even get to him. I can't let them finish what they started, even if I'm putting myself on the line.

I reach where we last saw each other, my breath catching in my throat. The area is freakishly quiet, and the aftermath of the chaos is still evident. I call out Ghost's name, my voice trembling. "Ghost? Are you here?" damn it, man. I don't have time for this.

There's no response, only the echo of my voice. Where are the fuckin' workers at in this shit hole? Panic starts to set in, but I push it down. I have to stay focused. I step further into the room I was in not so long ago, begging to be let out. I search the area, my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

Finally, I see a figure slumped against a wall, barely visible in the dim light. It's Ghost. He's covered in blood. He is alive. I can see the rise and fall of his chest. I run over to him, drop down to my knees and check his pulse. It still has a strong rhythm. This man can take a hit. I can't help the feeling of wanting to reach down and kiss his swollen, blood-covered face.

I gently shake him, trying to rouse him. "Ghost, wake up. It's me. We need to get out of here." He is out cold. I shook him some more, keeping my voice low. Thankfully, his eyes started to flutter open. "Ah, Little Killer, you came back for me." he let out, choking on his blood.

"Yes. I'm here. I am going to get you out of here, okay?" My voice trembling, fear gnawing at me. I help him to his feet, supporting his weight as we exit the doors and into the brisk air. I haven't had to hold this much weight in a long time. I can't help but apologize over and over again. Ghost is covered in blood. My body is starting to get weak from carrying him.

He goes limp, causing me to lose the grip that I have on him, and he plummets to the cold hard ground. "Shit! Ghost, wake up, damn it!!" I yell and smack his face a few times to try to get him to gain consciousness back.

I'm holding back as much as I can so that I don't fall into darkness. I lay my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Every thump resonates deep within me, filling a void that I've had for so long but never cared to focus on.

His heartbeat is a sound to my soul that I could easily get used to. I feel like it is something I've been missing out on in life. I could lay here forever and listen to it beat in its own beautiful rhythm if I only had time.

As I am lying on his chest, he comes to for a moment, reaching his hand up to smooth his thumb on my face, wiping the tear that I had accidentally let fall.

"I just need to rest for a second, Little Killer," he mumbled in a ragged breath. "We don't have time for this Ghost, we need to get the hell out of here before something bad happens again," I said in a panicked voice.

Shit. Too late.