Chapter 4: One Choice: Save Her
Talia’s heart slammed against her ribs as her phone’s light caught on something hanging on the tree.
Not an animal. Not a shadow.
A body. A human body.
For a second, she froze. Limbs twisted wrong, blood streaking the pale face. One shoe dangling. Her first instinct was to turn and leave not because she was a coward but to escape the familiar panic that flooded her every time she saw blood.
As she stood there, the sight of the blood on Sophie made a memory stab through her mind, taking her back to the boxing ring, the roar of the crowd, the way she had swung the final blow and her opponent collapsed in a pool of blood years ago. The referee’s whistle. The chaos. The final stillness. The life she had not meant to take and that PTSD has made her develop hemophobia .
The blood from that boxing ring that day everything ran through her mind in an instant. Her chest seized. Her legs trembled. Her brain scattered. She held onto her head like it was going to burst open. For a heartbeat, she wanted to step back, to run.
Then, the body stirred, hanging on a branch of the tree, showing signs of life. Not much a twitch, a faint shiver but it was alive.
Sophie opened her mouth, drenched in blood, and looked directly toward her, muttering inaudibly, “Saa…ve…me.”
That moment, Talia’s throat went dry. Her fear of blood screamed at her, claws sinking into her chest. But something stronger pulled her forward the way Sophie’s eyes looked at her desperately, like she wanted to live, like her life depended on her alone. The look in those eyes, that fell from that tall cliff, still fighting to live. The girl’s eyes, wide and pleading, anchored her. This isn’t the ring. This isn’t a fight you can walk away from.
Without even considering her fear of blood or her past trauma, trembling, Talia began to climb into the tree, branches tearing at her arms. Every scratch, every sting barely registered. Her trauma could wait. A life was hanging in the balance.
Talia scrambled down the slope, her shoes slipping on loose gravel. Muscles bunched and stretched beneath the crisp fabric. Branches clawed at her arms as she lowered herself into the tree. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the sting. Carefully, she hooked her arms around Sophie’s limp body, the weight almost felt like nothing to her, as she maneuvered down, shaky step. She used her left hand to guide her head to make sure nothing else hit her until her feet finally hit the ground.
Sophie’s head lolled against her shoulder. Her face was pale beneath the streaks of blood, lips moving as if whispering words too weak to reach the air.
“I will make sure you are safe,” Talia murmured, gently patting her head. She gently eased her down onto the grass. Her hands shook as she pressed two fingers against Sophie’s neck. For a terrifying second, she felt nothing. Then a faint flutter, a pulse so fragile it nearly slipped away under her touch. Relief flooded her, only for panic to crush it back down. Sophie was still alive… but fading.
Before Talia could think of what next to do, Sophie’s eyes rolled back, and she slumped completely. Unconscious.
Her throat tightened. She fumbled for her phone, breath hitching as she punched in the numbers for an ambulance. But just as her thumb hovered over the call button, the sight of three men coming toward her caught her attention.
They emerged from the path above, their suits sharp, their flashlights slicing across the darkness. For a moment, relief washed over her. “Finally, some that may help is here.”
But Just as she was about to call for their attention, something stopped her.
The way they moved. They weren’t rushing down for something or heading somewhere. It seemed they were searching. And it didn’t look like they were searching for something it looked more like a human.