Marry or Kill

48

M I N A

The heavy metal doors of the sewer slam shut with a thunderous clang, the sound echoing down the damp tunnels.

The putrid stench of sewage assaults my senses, clawing at my throat and making each breath a struggle as we seal ourselves in.

As my eyes adjust to the dim light, I finally spot Sol, her burned by the faint glow of a nearby flickering bulb. She stands with a man whose hair gleams like moonlight, slinging onto her shoulder—her face is etched in struggle as the broken sound of his voice hangs in the silent atmosphere.

The air is heavy with the metallic tang of blood, overpowering even the foul odour of the sewers.

Sol's gaze meets mine, and I can see the tremble in her breath. Elias moves to support Castiel's broken figure with a nod in his head.

Then I see the knife wedged in Castiel's skin, and my eyes move back to Sol's in question.

Without hesitation, Sol collapses into my arms, her warmth comforting in the underground labyrinth. I inhale deeply, drinking in her scent, a mixture of sweat and dirt tinged with the faintest hint of desperation.

Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her close, feeling the rapid thud of her heart against my chest.

"I've missed you," I whisper, my voice barely audible above the occasional drip of water echoing through the tunnels. "So much."

As she turns away from me, I catch sight of the network of scars across her back like a map of suffering etched into her skin and I feel sickness roil in my stomach.

A lump forms in my throat, choking back the words that threaten to spill out.

"Elias told me—but I didn't think it would look—I mean—" I stumble over my words, unable to articulate the flood of emotions crashing against the walls of my resolve.

Sol's voice, though strained, interrupts my speech. "I know," she murmurs softly, her gaze steady. "It's okay—I'm okay. I just want to go back home."

I nod even though tears prickle at the corners of my eyes at the guilt washing over me like a wave. We had failed her, allowed her to suffer, and now the scars bore witness to our shortcomings.

Sol looks at me, the bulb next to us lighting up her blue eyes like a star in the night sky.

"You came here at the right time," Sol whispers. With a pained expression, she raises her wrists, revealing the myriad of wounds scattered across her skin, and I nearly choke again.

"I'm glad that you're alive," I reply, my voice trembling with emotion.

She reaches up to brush her own hair back with a large breath, her fingers tracing the contours of her scars with a delicate touch as she turns back to Castiel.

Turning my attention to Castiel, urgency grips at me like a vice. I know we can't afford to stay here any longer. Sol has already done what she could with the meagre supplies at hand, but it's clear that Castiel needs urgent medical attention.

"I'm afraid we'll need to cut off our reunion. Otherwise Castiel will die," Elias says, studying the pale pallor of his face.

Castiel's life is hanging on the thinnest of threads.

"The reunion can wait," Sol declares, looking at me, her features weary and tired.

I nod in silent agreement, steeling myself for the task ahead.

But as I take a step forward, a sharp clatter echoes through the tunnel as a stone tumbles from the crumbling ceiling, landing with a hollow thud behind my foot.