Intense Cold

大寒 [6] / [13]

“You don’t have much time. Just die.”

She smirked. She didn’t relax the hand grabbing the knife at all, nor did Alexander. His blood ran down his elbow, dripping on the floor, wetting his shoes. He recalled that he had a gun in his pocket. He couldn't give up like this. Abandonment in this situation meant, that is to say, death.

He rammed his head into the nose of this insane woman with all his strength. She seemed not to anticipate this attack, and was hit in her nose with a precision that made her stagger. He pulled his gun out promptly, with as little speed as he could muster, from his pocket. He saw that she picked the hammer up. As soon as he seized his gun, with no time to aim, he fired the gun randomly towards where she just was. She ran out of the room like a cockroach.

He felt his consciousness starting to fade. He tried not to faint, moving frantically to get out of that house. He kept stumbling. He was almost crawling, barely getting out to the road while keeping his head turned to look back, in case she came up from behind him. He heard a long horn sound, and the last thing he saw was a set of large, bright headlights dashing towards him.

---

He woke up screaming. His surroundings were entirely white. At least it was a contrast from Sarah’s house, which was as dark as a mole tunnel. After a few seconds, he realized that he was in the hospital, and that he had survived. He felt relief.

He was on an IV, and both of his hands were bandaged. When he was about to get up, he found Cynthia sitting next to the door.

“Cynthia?”

“How do you feel?”

“What brings you here?”

“You tell me. What on earth happened to you?”

He shut his mouth. He had a throbbing headache.