[Trigger Warning: Blood and Gore to some extent. Read at your own discretion.]
Samuel closed his eyes to the pain slowly engulfing him now that a lot of blood had retreated from his body through the gunshot wound. The soldier had finally finished the MRE. He looked at the child's still conscious eyes despite the excruciating pain in his chest.
"I'm sorry." The soldier apologized in Russian before standing up to leave the place.
Samuel's blood slowly traveled to the stream and started washing away gradually. He had no energy to move, otherwise, he would move. He hadn't lost consciousness. Neither was he going to.
Samuel knew at least this much. He knew he couldn't die even with the extremest of the tortures. His hands felt cold when the breeze struck against them, and he shivered in fear. He needed to get up. However, the motivation wasn't going to come easily to him. He needed to first learn about what he was meant to do if he wanted to get up and do that task.
