Flynn watched as the man slammed his cell door, charging forward to stop it. Flynn collided with the door, slamming it back open. "Ha!," he exclaimed, "I can't believe that worked!" A growl caught his attention as the man reared back to his Flynn. Duckig, Flynn grabbed the back of the man's neck, slamming his head into the cell bars, watching as he fell to the floor. A smirk crossed Flynn's lips as he turned to see a gun raised at him. A cop had heard the commotion. Flynn took a step back as a shot rang out, causing the room to go silent.Flynn watched as one of the cops slipped out of the van, raising a gun to him, "As if." He growled, reaching forward, grabbing the guys neck and slamming his head against the van, throwing him limp on the ground. He smirked, looking back up to see another cop, his gun raised. Flynn went to move, but a shot rang out, catching everyone's attention as they went silent. The pain wasn't felt at first, the impact pressing into his chest. Only once he reached up to grasp the injury, did he feel the warmth of the blood. He pulled his hand away as if it had burnt him, gazing down at the small pool of crimson liquid in his palm. The pain began to reveal itself, a pounding needle, beating within his chest. With each beat, a sharp pain shattered through his chest, and the blood pushed harder from the wound. It dripped down his shirt, pooling on the chilled forest floor below, soaking into the ground as if the earth drank it. His skin had gone pale, and his eyes had quickly sunken in, growing darker as he looked up from his hand, the severity of his injury finally revealing itself. His expression was that of pure horror and fear. He looked to each member of his group, each of his friends, as if begging to them, but begging for what.He breathed in sharply as the pain knocked him to his knees, sending him to the ground as he caught himself with his hands. His head fell limp as he looked down, breathing heavily before pushing himself back onto his knees. The cop raised his gun again, unsure of himself as Flynn slid a foot under him, attempting to stand back up, but he never made it. Another shot rang out, piercing his chest once again, and this time he went down. Landing on his back heavily, his eyes stared up, his breathing growing shallow as a line of blood dripped from his lips. His heart had been shot, and his lungs had been pierced. He knew the harsh reality even before he sucked in that last bit of air, he was dying, and there was no going back. He lifted his head from the ground, his eyes locking with the cop's, just as he raised his gun again, sending another bullet his way, this time, Flynn went still. And he didn't get back up.