Moreover, the fear kept his face glued to the ground as if afraid that the grim reaper's scythe would drop on his neck the moment, he tried to raise his head or showed a defiant attitude.
Swearing vehemently within the confines of his thoughts, Nelson's eyes darted about in a frenzied search. He clung to the slender thread of hope that his guards, in their vigilance, would have by this time sensed the disruption that had unfolded, or at the very least, intercepted the shrill echoes of his desperate pleas for aid.
The pulsating seconds felt like an eternity as his heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, yearning for a lifeline in the form of his guards' prompt response.
However, with each passing moment, his suspicions burgeoned like a storm gathering on the horizon. Despite the relentless duration during which he had fervently shouted for assistance, his guards remained conspicuously absent from view.
