His Sour Lemon #2.1

Part 40: Web of Sorrows

CHAPTER 40: Web of Sorrows

December, 2033.
Outskirts of New York City, America.
Fitzgerald Institute for Troubled Youth.

Security had never been this tightened. The rounds the guards took never allowed even a second of time to pass before the next set of guards took place, everywhere, there wasn't one crevice of the youth that would allow me to conjure a plan strong enough to hold what we needed. Samson was getting pushy, demanded I use my head now, instead of what they forced me to build up over the years. Muscle.

For the games.

Who was coming?

"Has anyone figured out why there are more guards than usual? Hired security, yet they're not as harsh?" Edison was hopeful.

"Someone who could get us all killed if we don't work quickly." Samson's dark voice made Edison jump. I knew he was there, accessing some sixth sense shit.

"Which means what?" Edison, so young.

"It means Edmund must get a move on or I'll kill him before they do."

...hence why I plan on leaving him behind.

*******

July, 2042.
London, United Kingdom.
Advanced Business Engagements Academy (Private Business
Institution), Sylvan Lakeshore.

I wondered...sometimes if I made her up in my mind to torture myself into thinking I had happiness in my arms, that it was so close, so warm, warmer than the goddamn sun I'm always reaching for. Always searching for.

Sirens blare. I heard it even through the bloodied glass around me.

Red lights turn on, as if in some underground unit, that was how to alert anyone in the building to take the fastest escape routes. I couldn't think to move, it wasn't real, the body-her. It wasn't happening, I knew in my heart it wasn't, but factually, in front of me, I couldn't think my way out of this destructive maze that keeps destroying me. Lemon was the only good thing I've ever had. The moment we met, the moment she fought back, I damn well knew, that's how it's chosen, that's how fates intertwine is when a match is made.

Screams could be heard from where I was sitting.

Bullets-every bang they made like muffled lightning strikes in a room, clouding whatever I cared for until I saw my men plough through the room, guns blazing, the bangs echo and dance across the numbing walls I'm enclosed in against.

Christian and Lyndon were the las ones in, but it was the pair of amethyst eyes that I couldn't look at without losing everything. Marvin knew, the moment he stepped inside. Lorraine gasps like a damsel in distress yet she's here on rescue. Iris, Erik, Edison, Merritt, Knox and Atlas step in. I hug my knees, lean my head against the wall.

Marvin stares at me, blaming me for everything, "You swore to protect her." And I tried harder than he will ever know. Glass bombs move over it and there's a palpable bang before Sampson steps in, grabs me and gets Christian to help.

"Don't. Just look at him." He mutters to the twin brother.

Lorraine shoves forward, "No, what this is-is absolute fucking bullshit, she's here. She has to be. That body can't of been hers." Lorraine rips into me, I didn't blame her either. I failed, I always fucking fail. I'm dragged out, unable to do much more than wish I was dead now too.
I remember blacking out, feeling it tear through me, my subconscious zeroed out the second it hurt too much.