Shot

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Shem POV (Dream World)

The Rakshasa stayed hovering in the air, "Well no matter, fifty of you still need to die. Deaths have started to slow, I urge you to look around, look at your brothers and sisters in arms, the people you are standing next to, find your next target."

"You have ten seconds."

Five seconds passed. 

The group chasing Shem turned away from the demon, they quickly scanned their surroundings before grabbing their guns and taking aim. 

A second passed. 

They didn't take a step, keeping their feet in the same position as when the surroundings turned light. Their gazes trained on the siblings, eyes piercing and hands unwavering. All three stood resolute, fingers tensed on the trigger of their pistols. 

A few seconds passed.

Shem heard Lorey speak in a quiet voice, her body to the right of his. "When it turns dark, you go left, I'll go right. Duck immediately, they are aiming for our heads."

His heartbeat fast, muscles tensed with anticipation, dread, and anxiety. Pressure mounted on his shoulders, one wrong move and he was dead. 

Time seemed to flow slower, but before long another second passed causing darkness to engulf the room, once again causing momentary blindness just like when the light returned previously. 

Shem instantly ducked and rolled to the left, bullets passed overhead, the deafening roar being a tell tale sign to their arrival. The concrete did not feel nice against his face, a few stray pebbles stuck to his cheek. Though still blinded he got off his side and crouched low while trying to get away from the main road and off to the tents as fast as he could in his current position. 

Bullets continued to whizz by overhead, no way to identify how close they were to hitting him. Shem's mind was a mess of thoughts, but none of them mattered in the face of mortal danger, the adrenaline keeping him moving while forcing his mind to focus. 

A bullet hit his calf, blood flowed.

Letting out a pained grunt, he collapsed forwards, spread eagle. His upper body off the road and at a slight decline, while his lower body was still on the road. Blood rushed to his head as he continued to move forward, the adrenaline forcing him to survive. 

Seconds blurred by, the full extent of the pain still not hitting him. The rustle of tents behind him brought Shem out of his delirious state, 'At least Lorey is okay,' he thought. 

Soon, still crawling, he reached the tent line.

Choosing the first tent he saw, Shem disregarded the thought of the murder squad still chasing him. He opened the tent zipper and a loud noise was produced but he barely registered it, the sound of his heart overpowered it tenfold. 

Quickly, he entered the tent, closed the zipper, and looked at his leg. The bullet pierced the right side of his right calf and was still stuck inside it. The wound spurted blood, the skin surrounding it already painted in the morbid substance. A few welts were also raised on his skin, signifying burns from the bullet. 

Panicking Shem worried 'What the fuck do I do?' Still thinking about what to do, he extended his hand to touch the wound, the blood making a mesmerizing pattern on his fingertips. 

'I should stop the blood flow first!' He realized, bringing him to take off his shirt and wrap it around his calf hoping it would help. He also laid on his side, praying that gravity would help keep his blood his. 

With everything Shem could do done, he sat there, unable to move, helpless in his situation.