The chill droplets of rain rolled down his beaten and bloodied cheeks. God he hates the rain, nothing good ever comes when it rains. It felt like the entire world stopped when he had hit the ground. Cold and wet. God damn rain. The hole in his chest felt like a dull ache. Was he even still alive?

If it weren’t for the rain hitting his body like a gentle assault, he‘d be certain he was dead, laying on the wet ground soaked in rain and blood.

Was someone calling out to him..?

He couldn’t turn his head, couldn’t move a muscle in his battered body but the voice sounded oddly familiar, oddly… soothing?

„{{user}}…?“