Dead Man Walking (Part 2) (Patreon)

Hey guys 👋! Here's the second and last part of the side story for the month focusing on the alternate universe. I really want to do a Part 3 of this with the funeral scene, but I think I might not have enough time to do it this month. I might do it later on though when I have some more free time 😄 But for now, please enjoy the conclusion of the scenario!

Please click here for Part 1.

Fuck! You’re lying here bleeding out and there are still three of them. Stand up, Viktor. You have to do it for Sasha…

Suddenly, you feel small hands grabbing and tugging at your coat. And then, the sounds rush back like a wave.

“Dad! Dad! Please, get up!” Sasha is trying to drag your body behind cover, but of course, he can’t move your body even an inch.

“S—Sasha…” you groan.

“Wait, Dad. I’ve got an idea. Please, just hang on tight,” he says hushedly before standing up.

“W—What are you doing? Get out of here…” you tell him desperately.

But he doesn’t run. Instead, he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and then reaches out at something with his right hand. A few seconds later, a terrified scream is heard before it is cut short. You can’t really see what’s happening but you hear the sounds of bones breaking and the other two voices yelling out in panic.

Of course, your son is not completely powerless; he has inherited your ex’s dual powers. Equipped with his umbrakinesis and gravikinesis, he’d probably be one of the strongest ability users in the city in a few more years with proper training. But still… He’ll forever still be your little baby, and right now, you just want him to get away instead of risking himself trying to help you.

“Viktor Pavlovich Morozov! I thought you are a great killer; the golden son they call you, the old man’s pride and joy,” an electronically-distorted voice spits out bitterly, which actually takes away the bite out of their taunt. “So, why don’t you prove it by coming out and fighting me face-to-face instead of getting your monsters to do the dirty work, you son of a bitch?!” The voice calls out to you angrily, the distortion breaking the person’s voice apart into harsh growls.

Before you can do anything, you hear the cracks of gunshots ringing out. You brace yourself for the incoming pain, but none comes. Instead, your blood freezes as you hear Sasha’s yelp. You look up just in time to see two more bullets pierce through his chest and stomach; the impacts are so strong that his little body jolts backward and his feet come off the ground slightly before he lands on the ground roughly a couple of feet away from you.

“SASHA!” Your scream is full of anguish and pain and sorrow as you force yourself to crawl over to where your son is lying on the ground, bleeding.

As soon as you get near him, you feel your gloved hand touching something warm on the ground. You don’t need—don’t want—to see what it is. Getting up to a seating position, you quickly take note of the extent of the injuries.

One shot in the chest, another in the stomach, and the last one on his left thigh. Oh, God.… so much blood… You don’t even know where to start. Taking off your scarf, you quickly tie it above the gunshot wound on his thigh, making some sort of impromptu tourniquet; hopefully, it’ll help slow down the blood flow there.

But God, there is still so much blood leaking out of the other two wounds and you don’t know what to use to stem the bleeding. You take off your coat and wrap it around Sasha, his small body almost completely engulfed by the fabric. You try to put some pressure on the wounds, but the blood still keeps on coming, quickly staining the beige color red.

“D—Dad…?”

You feel your heart lighten slightly from relief. “Sasha! Thank God… Don’t move too much, okay? You’re gonna be okay.” You try to keep your voice composed, it won’t do any good if Sasha is also panicking.

You barely even register the sound of a pair of footsteps approaching. Looking up, you see the one surviving person walking towards you hesitantly with their pistol lowered; they’re clearly the leader and must’ve been the one with the vocal distorter. They’re wearing leather, combat suit and a tactical Kevlar face mask, complete with blacked-out goggles.

You realize that the smokescreen has cleared out and you’re in the open. You quickly reach over to the pistol you used previously, ignoring the pain from the sudden movement.

“You motherfucking monster!” you yell out at them.

“I—I didn’t—” they start, but you’re not going to listen to their bullshit excuses.

Grabbing the pistol, you empty the rest of the magazine straight into their chest area without hesitation. Puffs of smoke come out where your bullets impact the plate armor. You try shooting at their head instead, but it’s also covered by a ballistic mask.

But the force is enough to make them stumble back, and once they hear your gun clicks, they turn and run away. You’re very tempted to run after them… but a soft whimper draws your attention back to your son.

You take out your phone and call 911 before picking up his body up into your arms; he’s so small that you can carry him with only your right arm. No time to waste. You start limping toward the other end of the alleyway. It’s painful with the wounds on your thigh and shoulder, but you push through it, the adrenaline pumping throughout your body numbing the pain as best as they can as your heart beats hard in fear for your son’s life.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Please, I need an ambulance. My son… My son has been shot!”

“Okay, sir. Do you know where you currently are?”

You glance around the alleyway but you don’t recognize it. “No… I’m in an alleyway, but I’m sure it must not have been far from Cozy Corner Diner.”

“Alright, please don’t turn off the connection, sir. I’m going to track your location real quick.”

You just grunt in response as you keep on inching toward the entrance of the alleyway, leaving a trail of blood behind you. A few agony-filled seconds later, the 911 operator finally responds, “I’ve sent EMS your way, sir, they should be arriving soon. Please hang on tight. In the meantime, can you check on your son?”

Balancing the phone on your left shoulder, you stop and kneel down to properly check on Sasha’s condition. Your blood freezes as you see his face turning paler than previously, his usually rosy lips are almost white from the loss of blood and his eyes are closed. You quickly hold his face in one hand and try to get him to wake up, the phone on your shoulder has fallen to the ground, but you don’t even notice it.

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POV: Sasha

You’re not really sure what just happened. One moment, you feel the burning agony on your torso and thigh, and the next, everything is quickly becoming numb and… floaty, like you’re not totally here.

The next thing you’re totally aware of, there’s something warm on your cheek and brushing over your forehead. You just realize how cold you are when you feel the warmth and you focus on it and the familiar motion and gesture.

Gathering what little strength you have, you force your eyes to flutter open and are immediately met with your dad’s face, his brows furrowed in worry and his grey eyes wide in panic and filled with fear and concern. You notice his mouth is moving and slowly, sounds come back to your senses.

“—sha, Sasha! Wake up! Wake up… Please, baby, wake up…”

“D—Dad? W—Wha—” you whine weakly.

You feel the soft puff of warm breath on your face as your dad exhales in relief. “Sasha, please, hang in there, help is coming, okay?”

“I—It’s so c—cold…” you whine weakly and you try to turn, to move your body to the side so you can snuggle into his chest. But you realize you couldn’t; there is only numbness. Your heart beats faster as panic starts to dawn on you. “Dad.. I—I can’t move! I—I can’t feel anything…!” you sob out. “I’m scared… I don’t wan—”

Your dad brings you into a tight hug as he stands up quickly; you can feel his chest moving up and down fast. “Y-You’re going to be okay, baby. They’re gonna be here any time now and soon, this will only be a bad dream,” he whispers hoarsely before kissing your forehead, patting your hair softly to soothe you and then he starts moving again.

This is the second time he carries you up in his arms, the first time was in the comic book store… You bury your face into his shoulder; thinking about your mother is the last thing you want to do now.

You know you should be warm right now, covered in your dad’s coat and encased safely in his arms, but you don’t feel so. The cold still persists and the numbness is spreading… or maybe you’re just feeling tired. Yeah, that must be it.

You really want to rest, but you’re also afraid… afraid of what happens if you do so… But the swaying motion and the feeling of safety lure you to let down your guard a bit. Dad said everything will be okay now… Maybe I can close my eyes for a second and the next time I open them, I’ll be back in my room… and maybe Ash will also be there.

And so you close your eyes.

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POV: Viktor

You jolt a bit as you feel something warm seeping through your clothes. Fuck! Gritting your teeth, both in pain and in frustration, you force yourself to walk faster. Suddenly, the faint sound of a siren catches your ear and it quickly becomes louder as it approaches.

You almost laugh in relief as you quicken your pace even more, bracing one hand on the wall beside you to stabilize yourself. A few seconds later, the alleyway is flooded with red and blue light as the ambulance pull over at the entrance. Three EMS workers burst out of the back, two getting the stretcher down and one carrying a bag.

As soon as they reach you, you immediately hand Sasha over to them and they set him gently on the stretcher. You beg them to save him and let them know where he’s been shot. They quickly rush him back to the ambulance and the guy with the bag lends a shoulder to you to help you. Now that the adrenaline has started to fade, the pain starts to become more prominent and you can’t help but hiss with every step.

“So, what happened to you, sir?” the EMS guy asks you.

“Got fucking shot in the thigh and shoulder… But not as bad as my son… Please, just focus on him first.”

The guy nods his head. “My colleagues will take care of him. Try not to worry too much.”

As soon as you get into the ambulance, you see how dire the situation is for Sasha, even though it seems like the EMTs have managed to stop his bleeding.

“I don’t feel any pulse. He lost too much blood.”

You feel your heart quicken until it’s all you can hear, drowning out the other sounds and voices around you. It’s not until you feel firm hands on your shoulders forcing you to sit down that you realize you are in the middle of standing up.

“Sir, sir! Please, sit down,” the EMT who is treating you pushes you back down. You reluctantly concede.

You can only watch in horror as they put a defibrillator on Sasha. After a couple of shocks, they finally find a pulse, it’s weak but it’s there. Sighing in relief, your body slumps in exhaustion, both physical and mental.

An hour or two later, in the Hospital waiting room…

You’re sitting in the waiting room anxiously, mind still hazy from the anesthetics and worry, exacerbating the surreal feeling that you’re feeling right now. Your little sunshine is currently in the Emergency Room, and there’s nothing you can do to help him or make him feel better.

Bent over your knees, you bounce your legs nervously, fiddling idly with your scraped hands as you stare at the sterile linoleum floor. You don’t know how long you’ve waited like this until familiar voices bring you out of your grin reverie.

“Viktor! Are you okay?” You look up just in time to see Luka striding toward you, and Cara by his side as well.

“I’m okay… Although the same cannot be said for Sasha,” you sigh, rubbing your hand over your face in frustration. “They finished operating on him a while ago, but he hasn’t woken up yet.”

Cara sits beside you and rubs your shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sorry to hear that, but Sasha is a strong boy… I’m sure he’ll be able to get through it.”

You cradle your head in your hands. You really want to believe that, you do. But the state you see him in last in the ambulance… It’s not looking good; he has not regained consciousness since the last time you carried him.

“I hope so, Cara… He got shot three times; once in the thigh and twice in the torso—”

“What?! How did this happen? Who?” Luka growls, stopping his back-and-forth pacing.

“I don’t know… We were just having dinner and when we got out and walked toward my car… That was when the shooting began. After that, it was all a mix of running away and fighting for our lives… a—and th—” Your throat tightens as you remember the moment Sasha got shot and you find yourself not able to finish the sentence.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell everything now, Vitya,” Cara tells you soothingly before turning to Luka sharply, eyes full of disapproval.

Luka sighs. “I’m sorry… I’m just—”

You shake your head. “It’s okay…” Turning to Cara, you decide to ask her,  “Cara, does Ash know yet? About… this?”

“No. I think he was already asleep in his room when I left and I just— just didn’t have the heart to let him know yet…”

You nod your head understandingly. “It’s probably the best decision…”

Suddenly, the door opens and a doctor steps out. You quickly stand up and walk over to him, Cara and Luka follow behind you.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kozlov, b—but Aleksander’s condition worsens after the operation… a—and unfortunately, we were not able to save him this time,” the doctor stutters a bit as he fidgets uncomfortably under the intense gazes of the three of you.

“W—What?” you scoff out in disbelief, your mind hasn’t caught up—and probably would never be able to comprehend—what the doctor just said.

“Mr. Kozlov… We tried our best but—”

Your hands lash out and grab the lapels of his coat. “No, no. You’re mistaken. There must still be things you can do to save him!” Your voice is borderline hysterical.

“S—Sir, he passed away just now. There’s nothing more we can do—” Letting go, you shove him aside as you stride into the room, calling out for Sasha. Your mind is so distraught that you barely register some of the nurses who try to stop you, pushing them aside to get to your son.

Kneeling down by his bedside, you take a closer look; he’s definitely much paler than usual. You reach out your hand to touch his face and smooth his hair away. Were it not for the coldness of his skin, you could almost convince yourself that he was just sleeping peacefully and that he would stir awake soon enough. But that moment never comes and he doesn’t twitch even a single muscle.

“Sasha… Please, wake up. Please, please,” you whisper hoarsely, your vision becomes blurry as tears well up in your eyes. The sobbing comes soon as the reality comes crashing down on you like a tidal wave; your son is not waking up ever. He’s gone. But still, your mind tries to deny it as it grapples with the fact. Just this morning, he woke up a chipper boy who was excited to celebrate his tenth birthday. Never in a million years would you think that you’d wake up today to drop off your son at school, only to go home tonight alone, and that thought alone breaks you down.

You sit down at his bedside and cradle his cold body in your arms, before holding him tightly to your chest, the coldness of his body chilling you to the bones; it’s just wrong. The Sasha you know is warm and full of life. “Oh, God… Why can’t it be me instead?” you wail out. “Oh, my son… not my son, please.” You keep repeating the words, muttering them over and over again like a mantra while you rock back and forth, burying your face into his hair.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, holding on tight to your son’s body not wanting to let go as you stare emptily at the wall ahead of you, your mouth is still moving but the sounds are barely heard, much less intelligible. You don’t even jolt in the slightest as you feel a hand landing softly on your shoulder. You try to shake it off, planning to tell the nurses or doctors to fuck off.

But when you turn around, you’re met with the familiar face of your little brother, you also catch a glimpse of Cara who is crying and sobbing in the corner of the room. You return your attention to Luka’s face, his icy blue eyes are glassy and his brows are furrowed in concern. “Vitya… You have to let go of Sasha. He’s—” His voice dies out for a second before he continues, “He’s gone and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Somehow, it is these words that snap you out of your daze. No… No, Luka is wrong. You can do something—no, it’s the only thing left to do—about it.

Bending down a bit, you whisper straight into Sasha’s ear. “Sasha… If you can somehow still hear this… Please know that I love you so, so much, baby. You’re the best thing that ever happened in my life and I don’t—and will never—regret having you…” Unlike a certain someone, you thought bitterly and you feel that kindling of a fire in your heart grows stronger as the memory of what happened in the comic book store earlier today feeds it, and soon the fire becomes a roaring blaze coursing through your body.

The burning is painful as it wraps and constricts your still tender heart, but you need it and you certainly like it more than drowning in your grief. You now have something to do. Something more important than even your own life.

“Don’t worry, Sasha… You can rest easy now because I give you my words that I will find the person behind all of this and I will make sure to send them to hell where they belong,” you growl out lowly as you glare at the far wall, mind already racing for your next move.