part 19
As soon as Brill wrapped up around the corner, she rushed to escape, wanting to be as far away from the drunk as possible. As soon as he wakes up, he will surely be furious. She wasn't going to be within reach when that happened.
Brill ran away until she was exhausted. The freshly stolen torch sank lower and lower as she grew tired. Finally, Brill fell hard against the wall. Her pulse was beating furiously in her throat somewhere. She laughed nervously, clutching her shaking hand against her pounding heart. Suddenly she experienced a rush of gratitude to Conner, who had taught her self-defense techniques in her youth. Whether or not this was appropriate for the lady, they had proved their worth.
When Brill's heart rate returned to normal, she closed her eyes tiredly, slowly crawled to the floor and tilted her head to the cold stones of the wall. Her body had exhausted its limit. Each muscle was burning from the recent race, and Brill knew that her body was covered in bruises because of her falling under the stage.
But worse than these ailments was acute pain, more and more shaking her skull. It seemed as if her brains were melting. With her hands up, Brill crushed whiskey with her palms. Pressure for a moment reduced the pain, allowing her to breathe more freely. It happened whenever she had dreams or visions. It was as if her mind was rebelling against the things she had seen. Sometimes it happened right after they did. Another time, like now, it started a few hours later. Brill knew that the pain would pass quickly: it always went away within half an hour. But at the moment, she wasn't perceiving anything, immersed in her own personal hell.
Time passed slowly as Brill tried to abstract herself from the agony in her head. Soundlessly repeating over and over again that it was about to end, she made herself breathe deeply. It was only when Brill thought she couldn't take it anymore that a weak groan seeped through the pain. She ignored him when she thought he was out of her own throat. But when the headache subsided, Brill began to realize that she wasn't really the one who was moaning. Carefully lifting her head off her knees, she looked blindly at the aisle.
Listening attentively, she looked into the darkness behind a circle of light from the torch. When the moans turned into painful weeping, she frowned and pressed her lips. Brill had never heard such a heartbreaking sound in her life. Even when she was young and traveling with her father on the battlefield, Brill never felt the same effect from the simple sound. Her armored heart broke into small pieces.
Brill reached out and raised the torch from where she had stuck it. Rubbing the temple to remove the remains of pain, she slowly stood up and, raising the torch to eye level, shaved to the direction from which the soft sound was coming. As she walked, the floor level rose. Her feeling of relief flooded her being: Brill realized she was approaching the ground again.
Her emotional rise gradually faded as the crying became louder with each step. Brill's throat was locked in and she coughed several times, after which she noticed that the air was steadily getting smokier and smokier. The flame of the torch no longer threw a wide arc of light in front of her. Now the smoke was limiting the light to a small circle around her body. Brill hurriedly raised her hand to cover her mouth, and it coughed up with thick smoke. The moan she was walking on now seemed to sound right in front of her. But Brill couldn't see the source through the smokescreen.
- Hello? - In a trembling voice, she called out into the dark, forgetting to be cautious. The sobbing stopped immediately. - Is there anyone here? If you are injured, I can help you. - Only the silence was her answer. Brill raised the torch higher, though the smoke had already begun to eat her lungs. - Please, if there's someone here, we need to get out of here, and now. It's somewhere near the theatre. Smoke will seep in here for a few more hours. We have to leave, otherwise, we will suffocate! - Last words she wheezed and desperately tried to clear her throat.
No one answered her. There was silence in the air. Then the sound of a quiet breath came out of the smoke, followed by strong cough. There was a groan around again, accompanied by a murmuring-like murmur. Having determined the source of the sound, Brill quickly walked in there. Now she was walking blindly, and her torchlight couldn't get through the smoke.
Suddenly, Brill felt something soft under her foot, lying right on the ground. She came across a wall and lowered the torch, whose light immediately faded to a faint shimmer. Another groan came from the floor; Brill turned around and saw a man stretching across the aisle through the smoke.
He was lying on a cold stone floor, with his face in the fold of his elbow. Even in the dark, Brill could see his appearance. He was older than her, perhaps about thirty-five years old - the weakest rays of wrinkles scattered from the corner of his eye when he squinted. His simple white cotton shirt was torn and loose on his body. Looks like the man was hurt by some terrible misfortune. "Those vile people must have thought he was a Ghost.
to be continued...