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In The End MICAH EMERSON

Micah Emerson and Hyeman Tsukishiyama embark on a game of ' Survival to The fittest', but something inside Micah tells him to convert himself from the path he yet has to take , the path of Right or Wrong. Will Micah separate himself from the lowly filth who call themseles to be powerful or will he forever be a pawn?

Khadija_Shafiq · สมจริง
เรตติ้งไม่พอ
6 Chs

"Escape! Run!" commanded ______

But even so, there had to be a way,

With a frustrated grunt, I slammed my head against the unforgiving wall. "Damn!" I exclaimed, my voice echoing through the room.

"Damn!" I repeated, each bang against the wall fueled by mounting anger welling up within me. I needed to find a way out, no matter what. This couldn't be the end, not this soon, not like this.

I struggled to free myself from the chains that bound me, despite the searing pain coursing through my wounded, useless hand. Yet, I continued to struggle, although it felt futile. Even if I managed to break free from these chains, escaping from this place seemed impossible. Everything appeared so hopeless.

I halted my struggle and lightly banged my head against the wall. " It's useless anyway" I whispered to myself. Leaning my head against the wall, I closed my eyes and drew in a long, slow breath, attempting to steady my racing thoughts.

Biting down on my quivering lower lip, I made a concerted effort to steady myself, to calm down. Taking a deep breath, I calmed my racing heart and slowed my thoughts. With each exhale, I let go of the stress and tension that had built up throughout . Closing my eyes, I focused on quieting the storm of thoughts swirling in my mind. I wanted to take refuge in the realm of sleep, even it would be for a fleeting moment.

Struggling against the weight of exhaustion, I delved into the depths of sleep.

"Micah," a familiar voice whispered urgently, "Micah" coaxing me from the clutches of slumber. Startled, I blinked open my eyes, my vision swimming as consciousness slowly returned. I found myself confronted by a masked guard looming over me, his identity concealed behind the ominous veil. Confusion clouded my thoughts as I struggled to comprehend the situation unfolding before me. Nearby, another guard barked instructions into an intercom, his words muffled and indecipherable.

 His eyes were familiar. Where had I seen those eyes before? Before I could delve deeper into the mystery, the guard surprised me with a wink, his gesture both cryptic and strangely reassuring. With gentleness, he laid his hands on my chains. Oh Hyeman, stupid me. I remember some of the members of the Lotus Brothel; the ones who were on a higher level wore masks, so it wasn't weird or suspicious for Hyeman to wear a mask here 

"I've been ordered to take him to the higher-ups. Maybe we could use him for experiments," said Hyeman, standing up and taking my chains firmly, making me stand up too.

Taking me for experiments? Cheap lie, I could've done better. As we approached the exit, Hyeman's movements were swift and deliberate, his hands deftly attaching the small grenade to the underside of the entrance lock. The tension in the air was palpable as we stepped out into the dimly lit corridor

Hyeman's voice, calm and measured, resonated through the intercom device clenched in his hand, his words carrying an air of calculated confidence.

"Bombs have been installed on floor 8A3," Hyeman whispered calmly into the intercom held in his hand. No one could find us suspicious. Hah! I couldn't help but smile, how could I forget Hyeman was a perfectionist in spying 

As we reached the end of the corridor, where two more paths diverged, Hyeman tilted his head to the right, motioning for me to enter the corridor on the right. "You'll find your way out here," he said, lowering his mask to reveal a wide grin beaming on his face. "Just take that route."

Thanks, man!" I said gratefully as he worked to unbind me from the chains. There wasn't a single person in sight. How and why, though? The cameras had been hijacked. How was this so easy now?

"Don't mention it," he replied, patting my back before pushing me inside the right corridor. I did as he instructed, making my way straight down the corridor. It stretched on seemingly endlessly, the walls looming close on either side. As I ran, a faint smell began to waft through the air, a lingering odor of garbage. Despite the unpleasant scent, I pressed on, my senses alert for any sign of movement or sound. Although no one was insight I had thought 

Heard of the phrase "spoke to soon" ? Well just as I inched forward to the unpleasant smell , an African American came into view.

The sudden appearance of the African American figure halted me in my tracks, my senses sharpening as I assessed the situation. Despite his imposing stature, I recognized his weakness. With a swift move, I closed the distance between us, my fist connecting with the side of his head before he could react. As he stumbled, disoriented by the blow, I seized the opportunity, locking him in a headlock and applying pressure ,suffocating him ,my other arm around his mouth muffling his cries He tried struggling until he fell limp, silenced before he could make a sound. He was dead. I was overpowered against him, this was the world the powerful devour the weak. 

The sound of his body hitting the ground echoed through the corridor as I released him from my grip, the realization dawning upon me that he was merely a janitor, his humble attire contrasting sharply with the violence of our encounter. My eyes widened in shock and regret, a pang of guilt gnawing at my conscience.

Nothing could be done now, he was dead ,with his eyes opened, displaying fear of his last moment . I let out a heavy sigh, the weight of my actions settling heavily upon my shoulders as I stepped over his lifeless body, my heart heavy with regret and remorse. Without looking back, I hurried towards the exit. I kept running until I found a door , that had been captioned as "exit". The door was greasy and sticky. Why the hell was this so easy?

As I swung open the door, a putrid wave of decay slammed into me, assaulting my senses with the overwhelming stench of rot. The air was thick with the foul odor of sewage, a nauseating blend that threatened to overwhelm me. Frustration boiled within me as I realized that the supposed exit was nothing more than a gateway to the grim depths of the sewers. With a heavy sigh, I muttered curses under my breath , the reason of its "easiness". That explained why the janitor was there, That brat Hyeman!

Upon closer inspection, I discerned that the sewer wasn't entirely enclosed; there was an open section nearby. I could get out of there with a bit of effort, but that included climbing heaps of rubbish. God knows what else this "rubbish" includes. 

( The details of how I reached the open section are not necessary.)

With a final heave, I managed to drop myself to the other side. Freedom. I winced as I landed on my injured hand, causing me to yelp in pain.

" So You're alive Emerson?"