❝— Pressure ; open
She cursed under her breath, forehead resting against the dumpster's metal surface as she struggled to keep her tears from rolling down reddened cheeks. The wind had grown angry and frigid, and the world around her dulled into dreary shades to match her distress. “Why? Why now?”, she croaked despairingly, locked in a state of quiet panic. Many others would have bawled their eyes out and screamed their throats raw had they been crushed under the weight of a giant dumpster for what seemed like half a day. The idea rolled around in the tech's head every so often, who unsurprisingly didn't fancy the thought of being a zombie's next meal. Someone should have questioned her prolonged absence by now; if only her arms were long enough to reach the radio that had accidentally hurled itself out of her backpack, teasing her from just a few feet away. Arm drawn out and fingers pleading, her lithe form stretched towards the fallen device, disregarding the fact that she was about to tear at the seams. That was, until an acute stab of pain sliced through her upper body, shattering the silence. Lips chewed violently, her free hand was quick to provide mild relief as she tentatively massaged the stiffness in her neck. Yuri didn’t exactly know the extent of damage done to her shoulder, but the rattling spasms and numbness that claimed her limb left no doubt in her mind that it wasn’t less than what she suspected.
She cursed again, channeling her renewed resolve into another push. “It’s not like I have anything better do, anyway," she bitterly hissed, placing the plumped tips of her fingers on crusting metal. Her hand was too numb - so much that she didn’t feel the edge she had gripped bite into her flesh until warmth rivered into the oblique wound. This time, she felt like banging her head against the wall she was pinned against, as streams of red snaked all over her hand. The wound was neither deep or severe, and the amount of blood wasn’t enough for zombies to get drawn to its scent - that was, unless they were frighteningly close. She was equally doomed, either way. Exhausted, her body slumped in resignation, forced to preserve an awkward and severely uncomfortable posture. With a scowl, she eyed her heavy captor, hellbent on somehow hurting and bruising it. And so she did. Frustration poured out in the form of kicks and strikes, loud clangs ringing loudly through the alley before realization slapped her right in the face. She was ringing a dinner bell, practically inviting more trouble. How stupid of her.
As if on cue, a shadow emerged from the alley's mouth, vaguely silhouetted and molding into the dimness. Yuri froze, unsure of what to do as the figure inched closer with every stuttered breath she took, something bitter crawling up the back of her throat. She struggled to still her shuddering form and so chose to ignore it, pushing herself against the hard surface with the intention of going right through it. It all suddenly felt like a tightening noose around her neck; despite the many things she had seen and done, she had never been so thoroughly overwhelmed by a single emotion in her life. And she couldn't subdue it for the life of her.