Malachy was always home-based, he didn't know much about the outside world- other than his enclosed island. As time passed him by, his friends moved on, starting families, moving abroad, growing up, doing the cycle that life has put at our feet. Malachy found his world growing smaller from within. On one rainy night he looked to the skies above for the answers. Of course, the only reply he ever got was the sound of rain clapping off the cobble-stoned ground, like a private sonnet from nature itself. "Time awaits no one" he always thought to himself. His time working in the small taverns around the countryside felt less and less with each passing year. His social life was drab, the same outcome at local events- get drunk, talk of old times with strangers, go home. After a time had passed, something snapped within Malachy, this was the night everything changed. His cousin Siobhan was to be wed to Martin Leary in the fall. Martin was never one to be faithful, Malachy witnessed this many times when "the lads" would go out. For Martin's stag, he wanted to go to Russia. "A night with the finest Europeans ever made" he would say, chuckling to his friends while knocking back his pint of lager. Siobhan wanted her cousin to see the outside world and begged Martin to take Malachy. After a long back and forth, he agreed. "The lads" and Malachy set off for the beautiful lands known as "Mother Russia". Everything went as normal stag parties do, drunk tourists, foolish actions, slurred words, stories to tell the youth of tomorrow. Two nights in, Malachy seemed to be enjoying himself, sharing stories of his small island with the locals. Martin had been off visiting the dark streets of Russia in his search to find his "beauties" as he would put it. It was on this night that everything changed. A woman ran out on the streets- no older than 25, yelling in a foreign tongue. She seemed distraught, nervous. Malachy heard the whelps and put on his woven overcoat to see what this was all about. He offered his jacket to the woman as her tears streamed down her cheeks. After a short time of being consoled, she began to calm. "Hands where I can see them" yelled a voice in a slurred tongue. Malachy knew the tone of his voice("Martin"). The woman ran inside the building behind him. Malachy stood at the top of the road looking at his cousins future husband. "What did you do?" He yelled angrily. Martin approached, spitting blood from is puffed lips. "Man has to have his final send off before he settles down." Malachy's rage intensified, his own family would be attached to the actions of this man. His fists clinched, his blood boiled, after that..... nothing. With no notion of the time that had passed Malachy awoke on a hospital bed. There were no doctors or nurses in his ward, just the sound of nothing. He peeled from the bed in agony of his wounds and made his way to the exit. In a closet on the lower floor he found a batch of torn clothes and put them on. "Where am I, where is everyone? What's going on?". All of these questions, yet no one to answer them. Each step felt like a hammer being smashed down on his feet. Malachy ventured into the unknown with one goal "I have to get home, I have to warn Siobhan....."