Damien could see that freedom was within reach as he took another step toward the security doors.
But then a groan came from the side of the corridor.
He turned his head and noticed one of the guards caught in the earlier chaos lying against the wall.
His uniform was torn, and several bruises covered his face. Blood stained part of his clothing, and although he was conscious, he looked barely capable of moving. He struggled to push himself upright, but his arms trembled beneath him.
Damien glanced at him for only a moment before turning his attention back toward the corridor.
Then he heard something.
Footsteps were approaching from his side and more footsteps were approaching from the distance ahead, but these were different from the frantic movements of the guards who had rushed into the area earlier.
These footsteps were steady, deliberate, and coordinated. There was none of the confusion or panic that had characterized the first response.
Then came another sound. It was the sound of metal: the unmistakable mechanical clicks of weapons being prepared.
Damien’s expression immediately hardened.
Several guards emerged from the distant corridor, and unlike the men who had confronted him moments earlier, these guards were properly equipped. Rifles were already raised, their barrels pointed directly toward him as they advanced cautiously through the corridor.
Damien’s eyes immediately settled on the injured guard lying against the wall.
The decision was instantaneous.
Before the armed guards could properly react, Damien crossed the distance between them and the injured man with startling speed. He bent down, grabbed the front of the guard’s uniform, and hauled him upright.
The injured man barely had time to react before Damien pulled him against his body and positioned him directly between himself and the armed guards.
The guard groaned weakly from the sudden movement.
"What are you doing?" he managed to whisper.
Damien didn’t answer.
Instead, he tightened his grip and kept the injured man firmly in front of him.
The armed guards immediately stopped advancing.
They understood what Damien had done. They understood his plan, it was very obvious Damien was set on using the guard as a meat shield...
If they fired now, there was a very real possibility that they would hit their own man.
"Don’t shoot!" one of them shouted.
Damien stared calmly at the rifles aimed in his direction.
"Put the guns down." His voice was surprisingly calm considering the situation. He wasn’t shouting, nor did he sound particularly angry. He simply spoke with the confidence of someone who knew the people in front of him were now trapped by their own hesitation.
The guards exchanged uncertain looks, some of them knew the guy, and didn’t want to take the risk...
This was someone life they’re talking about... They can’t bear to kill their fellow comrade in arms...
"Lower your weapons!" one of them shouted.
For a brief moment, it appeared that they might actually comply.
But then everything went wrong. A nervous finger tightened around a trigger.
BANG!
The gunshot exploded through the corridor.
The injured guard in Damien’s arms jerked violently as the bullet struck him. A pained groan escaped his throat, and his body briefly went rigid from the impact.
The armed guards froze.
For a moment, the entire corridor seemed to fall silent.
Then another gunshot rang out.
BANG!
The injured guard cried out as another bullet struck him. His body convulsed in Damien’s grip, and his breathing became increasingly ragged.
"Stop!"
One of the armed guards shouted desperately, but the situation had already spiraled beyond their control.
More shots followed.
BANG! BANG!
The injured guard’s body jerked repeatedly from the impacts as the rifles continued to thunder through the corridor. His face twisted in agony, and his strength rapidly began to disappear. His head eventually sagged weakly against Damien’s shoulder, his breathing reduced to shallow, painful gasps.
Damien, however, didn’t release him.
Instead, he tightened his grip and began moving forward.
Slowly, deliberately and without hesitation, he was already set on escaping no matter what..
Each step forward carried him closer to the security doors while the injured guard remained positioned between him and the rifles. The armed men were forced to hesitate every time they considered firing again, knowing that another bullet could easily kill their own colleague.
The situation had finally shifted in Damien’s favor.
The guards had the weapons. But Damien had the shield and he was careful utilising it perfectly well, not daring to expose any part that’ll put him in danger...
The injured guard’s strength was fading rapidly. His body had become increasingly limp in Damien’s arms, and his head rested heavily against Damien’s shoulder.
"Please..."
The word was barely audible.
Damien lowered his eyes toward him, scoffing coldly...
For a moment, the injured guard seemed to be searching for some sign of mercy in his expression.
But he found none.
There was no sympathy in Damien’s eyes. No hesitation. The man was simply a means to an end, and Damien had no intention of allowing emotion to interfere with his escape.
He adjusted his grip, keeping the injured guard firmly between himself and the rifles, and continued toward the security doors.
The guards couldn’t simply shoot him anymore.
Not without risking the life of their own man.
Not without potentially turning the entire corridor into an even greater disaster.
For the first time since the armed guards had arrived, Damien felt that he had control of the situation.
But then, a powerful voice suddenly thundered through the corridor, cutting through the lingering gunfire and confusion with such authority that even the panicked prisoners seemed to hesitate.
"CEASE FIRE!"
The command echoed off the concrete walls, overpowering the alarms and the scattered shouts that had filled the prison moments earlier.
The firing stopped almost immediately. One by one, the guards lowered their weapons, though many kept their fingers close to the triggers as they continued watching Damien warily. The sudden silence that followed felt almost unnatural after the chaos of the previous few minutes. Smoke from the gunfire lingered in the air, mixing with the metallic scent of blood and the stale odor of the prison corridors.