Faith Can’t Save Us Now
« ☢ »—‣ Everyone was rushing to the armory locations in each district. Those who could fight, would, it seemed. He just wanted to get home without getting trampled to death. If he was going to die it would be in his own home where he could simmer in his shame privately.
Scared citizens of Hive City pushed and shoved as the sprinted and raced to wherever they deemed fit for them to go, leaving Souda as a punching bag for elbows and rough passes. One particularly rough shove caused his shoe to catch on the sidewalk, tripping him and sending him skidding over the pavement. His cheek was torn and bleeding along with his palms and freshly torn up knees.
Before he could get up he was stepped on roughly-- a heel dug into the middle of his spine and another pressed his rib cage as he was used as a stepping stone. No, no. He needed to get up. But more feet kept coming thus keeping him down and underfoot. He was going to die like filth in the street, a fitting end for trash like him.
“Stop!” He cried as more and more people came, “Let me up!” HIs voice sobbed and shook as he desperately tried to protect his head.
He was going to die.
