Stitched Together
Descending multiple floors by dragging his foot with his blood-soaked boots, time passed in a feverish order. Only focusing on moving and holding his hand against his split stomach, the passage of seconds felt like minutes, and minutes like seconds.
He could only hope by some miracle that the nameless man would not return, having to pray on pure chance as he dragged his feet.
'Not much…further–keep going,' he urged his body.
The front door of the apartment complex came in sight as he traversed the final flight of stairs. It took every part of him not to fall over as he brought his foot over the last step.
"A bit…more. C'mon…Finn," he told himself.
His eyelids became heavy while watching that door, dragging one foot at a time. The warmth in his gut radiated intensely, almost as if stirring up the closer he got to the door before—
"Ngh…!"