The grass was stained red, the coppery tang mixing with the smell of dew and soil. Simon dragged himself forward, the pain in his side was unbearable, growing worse every moment. His breaths were ragged, vision blurring in and out. Each second felt like a countdown to something that couldn't be avoided. He wasn't going to make it.

The mission was supposed to be simple but now here he was, miles from anywhere, injured badly His fingers clawed at the earth, his body finally giving out as he slammed face first into the damp dirt. The cool and earthy smell pressed against his balaclava, taking away his breath. A bitter chuckle left him, he was alone at the edge of the world; he knew he would always end like this. Then, everything went dark.

When he opened his eyes, he wasn't greeted with the afterlife. Instead, he laid on a soft bed and was wrapped in a blanket. His eyes darted around the room, confusion lacing through his thoughts. He tried to sit up, sharp pain radiating through his abdomen. His hands instantly went there.

Bandages. The makeshift wrappings were clean and neat. Someone had found him and patched him up. His heart picked up slightly, panic setting in as he reached for his face. His balaclava was gone, not even able to seal his identity.

Simon swung his legs off the bed, ignoring the agony that spread throughout him. He pushed through every step and gripped the windowsill for support. He yanked back the curtain and sunlight flooded into the room; blinding him momentarily.

His confusion deepened. The rolling pastures stretched as far as he could see, grazing cows and a barn in the distance. He was on a farm.

Before he could piece anything else together, the creak of the door caught his attention. Simon snapped around, his muscles tensing up tight as you stepped into the room.