Chapter 72: Chapels and Crimson

Marco

A duct tape binds tightly over Andrea's mouth, muffling his desperate pleas. His eyes are wide with fear and a warning, for me, or for us I can't tell but his gaze meet mine amidst the tense silence of the chapel. His veins bulge on his forehead, glistening with nervous sweat that streams down his face.

"I know that look," I think to myself, my heart pounding hard in my chest. "I should have been here sooner. Maybe I could have turned the tide, but now... now it might be too late. Our ship is sinking."

My foot grip the gun tossed to me on the floor. I scan the faces around me, squatting to pick up the gun, its weight heavy under my trembling hands. My gaze fixes on the guard opposite, his own gun leveled at my forehead, ready to pull the trigger at the slightest provocation.

"What do I do with this?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely a whisper as I try to keep my nervousness in check. The room feels suffocatingly small, the air heavy with the scent of impending violence.

"