Gideon Wrath crawled out of his spot in the alley. The Sanctuary agents has passed by without seeing him, the first piece of luck he'd had in a long time. He leaned against the wall, trying to force air into his lungs. One of them had gotten him, there was a huge gash in his chest, and blood stained his shirt.
He knew he didn't have long to live, he had lost too much blood. There was only one chance he had to ever get out of there, and it was a terrifying chance. He would never get the information to Serpine. Unless...
Gideon tore off the edge of his shirt, and dipping his fingers in his blood, wrote a message. He pulled some bubble wrap from a nearby trashcan and wrapped it around the cloth. He tossed it up and manipulated the air to toss it into the mailbox at the end of the street. One agent saw it flying through the air and yelled to the others.
"He's over there!" Gideon stepped out of the alley, but before they could do anything to stop him, he was a statue.