A Dark Revelation: Chapter 11

A Dark Revelation

By: Dominator24

Chapter 11: Hope is all We Can Trust


I immediately stood and ran over to him. Lifting his limp body in my arms, I could see the wound had pierced his temple. As I watched the blood slowly run from the wound, all the memories of our past adventures passed though my mind like a slow movie. Tears began welling in my eyes when I heard footsteps heading to the body of the shooter and once torturer.

I looked up, and saw someone kneeling down, one hand on the body's chest, and the other on the handle of a pistol. He was wearing a long brown overcoat which covered head to toe and with it, he wore an old, worn hat to match the jacket. He proceeded to whisper something, then stood and turned to me.

“How is he?” The stranger asked in a concerned tone.

I stuttered. “I-I don't know, he's not breathing.”

The stranger approached us, knelled down, and put two fingers to the side of Sonic's neck. “He still has a pulse.” He said before pausing and beginning to take off his overcoat. “It's weak, but there's still a chance he can survive.”

I clung to this new glimmer of hope with all my life.

“Thank you for helping us.” I looked up at him and continued. “I really apprecia-” I was cut-off when I recognized who it was because of him removing the overcoat, thus revealing his face.

“John?”

“Hey Tails.” He said in a concentrated tone.

“What made you come here?” I asked, confused as to why he didn't just stay home and go along with his day.

“I have a reason;” He stated. “Though I will tell you later. First, we need to take your friend to the hospital before his condition worsens.”

I nodded, and watched as he wrapped Sonic in the overcoat, and used the sleeves to wrap around his head and tighten enough to partially stop the bleeding.

He then held his hat over Sonic's face and picked him up. “It's about to rain, we don't need him to inhale any rain as we head there.” He stated. I nodded and stood.

We both then ran straight to the hospital, John taking great care as to holding the hat over Sonic's face so that when it did begin raining, he could still breathe, but was not being pelted by the rain.

Upon arriving at the doors of the hospital, John kicked the doors open and ran to the front desk, knocking a couple of patients out of the way who seemed to just be there to complain.

He told the woman at the counter the situation and demanded help. She picked up a phone and called a code over the intercom and immediately, two doctors burst through the doors with a stretcher. John laid Sonic on the stretcher and the first doctor ran back through the doors with the stretcher as the other stayed with us.

“Please stay here, we will call you back once he is stable.” After stating this, the second doctor turned and ran through the doors.

I almost dashed through the doors myself, but John stopped me.

“Don't. Just let them do what they need to do.” He said.

I watched the door, still worried, though hopeful.

John guided me to a couple of empty seats in the dark, dreary waiting room. I sat on the right seat.

I gazed around the waiting room. All around, I could see others sitting in there seats, looking down at the floor, couples hugging each other while wrapped In a blanket, an elderly woman sitting in a chair, holding a little girls hand, who was sitting in a wheelchair, seeming to not be focused on anything. I attempted to look for something to bring my spirits up, at least a little, so I looked to the toddlers playing with the toys sitting against the wall, but even they were uneasy. Trembling as they played, keeping tears held back, they would occasionally look to their mother who was simply crying into tissues.

There were two televisions in the room. One was broken with two horizontal cracks on it, and the other played the news with no sound but rather had captions on. The only other things in the room were the receptionist's phone ringing periodically, which she would quickly answer, the doctors passing through every few moments, and the broken elevator which would make a “bong” sound every so often.

Not wanting to see any more, I looked down at the floor and lowered my ears to block out most of the sound.

“I know it's a depressing place, but you need to keep your head up. If you stay depressed, things will only get worse. Have a positive outlook.” John stated to me, breaking the silence.

“But, what if something else happens? What if he gets amnesia? What it-?” I began stating, worried before I was stopped by John. “Stop. If you keep a negative outlook, things will only become worse, because it is what you are determined to do. To make yourself believe things will get worse. Keep a positive outlook. If you do this, there will still be a chance.”

I thought about what he said, and decided that it was true. I need to keep hope alive or nothing good would happen. One thing was still on my mind though, and I decided that this was as good of a time as any.

“John, you said that you would explain why you came to where we were.” I said.

He looked down and slightly to the left, seeming to be in regret.

“Well, I guess I should just be blunt with you.” He stated. “The one who shot your friend, his name was Rockson.” He sighed before he continued. “He was my brother.”