He raced up the seemingly endless flights of stairs.  Tired and exhausted yet he could not afford to stop.  He glanced at the next number on the wall as he passed.  Level 18.  He forced himself to keep climbing.

As he neared the top, a gun shot rang out.  He froze.  A terrible thought rushed through his mind at that moment.

He frantically rushed up the remaining flights of stairs until he reached the exit.  He drew out his gun and pushed the doors open.  He stepped out onto the rooftop of the building where he was greeted by the cool night breeze.  It was quiet, so quiet that he could hear his own breathing.  He scanned the area until his eyes caught sight of a figure on the ground in a pool of blood.

He slowly approached the figure with a dreadful thought. 

No, please.

With trembling hands he carefully flipped the figure over.  His worst fear was realised at that moment.  He closed his eyes, unable to take the sight before him.  He wrapped his arms around the figure and held him close.

His tears flowed uncontrollably as he let out an agonising scream.