Evolution of Primitive Instincts

I stood across from Victor, anticipating and preparing for another ruthless ugly Neogen battle. Jasper stumbled forward, his boots scuffing the concrete, until the sight of his family among the dead broke him. He dropped to his knees, as tears streamed down his dirt-streaked face, his hands clawing uselessly at the cold floor.

Alessandra emerged from behind him, her frail form swaying as she walked toward me. She was pale as a ghost, haggard, her clothes hanging loose from days of captivity and starvation.

Her eyes, wide with exhaustion, locked onto Victor, and she lurched to my side with what little strength remained. She tripped, her legs giving out, but I caught her before she hit the ground, her thin frame trembling in my arms. “Please,” she whispered, her voice a ragged plea against my ear, “get me out of here. I want to go home. Please…”