With one last tug, his wrist slipped from the binding. The blood that had once circulated his body was still rushing from the cut that graced his form only an hour before. He spat onto the ground, blood somehow managing to form at the back of his throat. He needed medical attention immediately. His nimble fingers quickly worked on the knot holding his other hand against the arm of the straight-backed chair he'd been cruelly placed in two days before. He needed to escape before he passed out.
His breathing picked up as the minutes dragged on, his hand slowly losing cooperation to free him from his prison. With one final tug, the rope fell to the ground and he shakily stood to his feet. One step and he almost doubled over in pain, the dizziness from his blood loss already forcing his body into shock. To his dismay, the gunshot wound in his side was just another outlet for blood. He barely made it to the door a few feet away before he leaned into it, gasp