They-of those long ago-said once.
Desperation, the drive for ultimate survival-is what causes miracles to happen.
Well, I don't know about miracles. But one thing I'm sure of- I never ran so hard in my life. Accustomed to swimming in the sucking blue depths of the oceans, buffering against merciless waves like they were nothing but annoyances, running is a whole new testament.
If the essence of my soul resides in water, it has all but dissipated on land.
My exhausted heart pummeling oxygen-fueled blood to my adrenaline-shot body, each step I make sending jarring up my bones, rattling my mandible until it hurts, opening my mouth to run a nervous tongue over my bottom, chapped lip.
Where was I? Ah, yes. As I was saying, I was running. I'll tell you later why.
All I can focus now is how to run, as speedily as I can.
My destination came into view. A crane building, a rickety steep tower leading to the circuit of water pipes that was connected to the city's main supply line.
I skirted to a halt at its base, scanning a brief look at my surroundings.
Nothing. Darkness. All I can hear ,now that my heartbeats has stopped trying to pound their ways out of my ears, are the sweet, reassuring chirps of the common nightingale.
Nope. Still not taking my chances.
Taking a short, quick breath, my eyes adjust to the dim yellow light emitting from above, searching out the stepladder.
I take the first foothold, look around again, and begin my ascend.
Halfway through, the stepladder gives a maddening jerk, and I nearly lose my grip on its banisters.
Don't look down. I remind myself. Rule number one: No point looking back when you have gone forward. You don't wanna know what's behind.
An odd mix of fear and uncertainty budding like a tumor in my heart, I shudder as I climb through the rest of the ladder as fast as humanly possibly.
When I reach the top, heaving myself over the hexagonal metal flooring, I go to plan B. Part 2 of escape plan B. Kids- don't do this at home.
Whipping out a small knife from my jacket, I roll up my sleeve and cut a generous wound on my forearm. Dark silver blood starts flowing, as thick as tar, and I hold it above where the ladder connects to the floor and let the blood drip. I use my hand to coat the ladder rung with my blood, and the rusty metal immediately begins corroding away as my blood does its work. My blood rings through to its purpose, and it eats away at the last piece of ladder connecting.
Grimacing, I push the rest of the ladder and let gravity do its work.
Gripping the edge of the flooring, I peer cautiously over to glimpse the silver ladder swallowed by the mouth of darkness.
On the edge of the pipe ,l initially teetered, the heels of my feet digging into the smooth ,frictionless narrow walk. The pipe was long and circular ,even less guaranteed than a balance beam.
Over the narrow pipe ,l momentarily glimpsed a glowing deep blue darkness, like whirling dam pools with the promise of abysses in its depth.
Glittering lights winked teasingly from the darkness. The city burned like a dying star from below, and I suddenly felt very, very high up.
This thought triggered a flow of pumped up adrenaline through my sinews-this Everest like altitude, the view from the top of the world, the windblown expanse with a distinct possibility of getting thrown off the pipe and hurtle down towards endless earth with groundbreaking velocity.
Something strange ,hot ,welling like a burn, but empowering, like a energy drink, fizzed through my blood.
Be it from intense exhilaration or from the overpowered fear pumping my heart at the rate of a five-horsepower engine ,I know where my heart finally lies.
Perhaps, this was what it felt like to be alive.
So caught up in my adrenaline and the distant view below, l forgot I was being pursued.
"Seems like you're at a dead end." a quiet voice remarked, and a shadow slipped out of the railing behind me.
Turning back, I catch a glimpse as the gray haired man slipped out from the wired area ,the overhead light cast flitting shadows across the deep crevices in his mask. The engraved smile on his mask does nothing to dim the menace he exudes-in fact it only seeks to amplify it.
I bet he's smirking under his mask too, having cornered me between him and a certain death escape. But there's no way I can give up that easily. Submit to him and let him drag me back to whatever hell planned in the stall for me? Right. I won't be surprised if he didn't die of his own stupidity someday. I nearly chuckle at the thought, but I felt my foot slide a millimeter off the surface of the greasy pipe. My breath caught in my throat ,as my arms windmilled involuntarily and I wobbled precariously on the edge.
The gray-haired man started forward. "Now, don't be foolish." he begins to say. "Shut up!" I yell frantically.
I willed my feet to arch beneath me, but I lost the initial confidence to balance.
I felt myself beginning to turn in the wrong direction.
"Woahh."I squeaked.The pipe seemed to tilt beneath me. My other foot lost its grip.
My arms flapped, like a desperate bird who has lost all flight in mid-air.
The flickering edge of my vision doesn't stop me from keeping my eyes on the man,though.I watch,only subconscious,as he bounded forward onto the pipe,the sleek metal groaning and creaking under his weight.
He hesitates momentarily,wary. "You don't tell me what to do..."I managed to gasp. My feet,miracle as it is,managed to somehow stabilize. The man stops suddenly,head tilted in my direction.
Then he crosses the last few paces separating us with unnerving balance and precision.
Grabbing the joint of my elbow,he pulls me
against him. I collide with a granite chest.
Nose aching from the hit, l struggle valiantly to free my arms. One of my arms was twisted in an ugly position in my front jaunty angles sticking out. Now that I'm up close, I see that although he is approximately half an inch shorter than me. I somehow couldn't find a way to use my height as an advantage this time.
Using the pipe as leverage, I bunch up my leg muscles and try to throw him off. His grip is a solid chain and I drop, my kneecaps bashing against the metal of the pipe. I feel his weight pulling me up, but I managed to grab his jacket and give a hefty pull.
He grunts as he tries to pull me up.
Stubbornly, the hilt of my feet holding onto the base pipe ,I cling on.
Behind his mask ,I can see a set of eyes glow crimson as he looks down.
"You will regret for being so stubborn,
His back suddenly stiffens, and he rolls back his shoulders awkwardly.
A series of loud, painful pops follow the abrupt, unmistakable sound of tearing leather.
The masked man grunts a soft agonized groan, but I am too busy staring at horror at the giant wings that emerge and rise above his heaving shoulders.
The air grows palpable with a thick atmosphere, as I realized I was truly, and well damned.
I cling on still to his jacket, but my grip is still slack as I still try to make sense of my current situation.
His crimson eyes have a wicked glint to them.
"I told you what that you will sorely regret-"
He slowly placed a gloved hand over my grip. "-breaking our deal."
With that, he shoves me brusquely over the pipe.
All I ever known was the song of air rushing at massive speeds past me as I free fall towards the blue abyss of the city below.
Where was I again? Yeah, I forgot to introduce myself.
Volcan Blipe, turning 40, from the city of eternal winter
And I can't die. Not until every drop of blood is squeezed out of this body.
Until then, death is but a privelige, one I haven't attained-yet.
Till then, you should know how I got into this mess.