A grumble fumbled its way off my throat as I pressed the soft material held into my wounded hip. The wound wasn't healing; it was though, but slowly.
After ten minutes of dodging the wild advances made by the infuriated Bear, I eventually escaped from the woods. With a bleeding hip. I almost regretted notifying the server to retreat my claws, I could have defended myself better than with the skinny wood I picked from the ground.
However, the Bear currently has wood glued up his ass. How I hoped.
I roamed through the quiet night with soft steps as I loitered to make the injury heal. And it healed. The only evidence was my torn bloody shirt. The urge to throw it off and walk home shirtless was strong but I didn't want to risk more evidence on me.
The lights in the apartment had turned off, and the thought of knocking and unsettling the sleeping women made me waver as I reached the door, but the door opened as if noticing my presence. Mrs Williamsburg had opened it.
"You're late," She expressed, opening the door for me to slide in. Her face as usual was blank without any hint of sentiment.
"Sorry," I responded sheepishly, scratching the back of my head as I ambled further into the living room.
"Grace will show you to your room," She said, walking away, and navigating down the hallway to the kitchen.
And Grace appeared. From the kitchen.
My eyes involuntarily glanced down her neck, two tiny red dots were almost invisible but noticeable. The urge to ask if she was alright clouded my throat, but I didn't want to make it more awkward than it was.
I walked in silence behind her as she brought me to the room my brother curtailed. Noticing the relieved wrinkle of his brows and the peaceful look on his face, gladness graced my chest. He wasn't in pain.
"If you need anything, mama and I would be happy to help," Grace said. For the first time since the bite, she lifted her head and looked at my face, then gradually descended to my bloodied torn shirt. Her eyes showed recognition as if she'd seen it before, but quickly dismissed it. "You're injured,"
I continued observing her expression. "It's healed."
She nodded, but her eyes remained on the shirt. "Want a shirt?"
"No, I'm good."
She nodded again, glancing at the sleeping Tommy and walked out of the door, closing it behind her.
I finally pulled off the shirt and proceeded into the bed, laying beside sleeping Thomas without any thought of showering. I didn't know what time it was, or how many minutes it took for unconsciousness to wash over me. I slept, forgetting my problems. Forgetting the deal with the devil.
After a few hours, at 3:19 am.
I heard the whispers in the wind and the intense howling forcing my eyes unhurriedly unfurl. That's when I noticed the window was unlocked. Thrusting off the bed gently, I strolled over to the window to shut it. A lazy yawn departed my lips as sleepiness tugged me back towards the bed. But an involuntary glance at the gloomiest part of the room made me halt.
"That's slow of a bat," The figure in the gloom said mockingly. Upon a profound observation which was due to the absence of light, I saw the figure sitting on a chair; rotating it with a smug expression.
"I'm not a bat."
"Are you sure you read the writings?" Lazaros's voice queried.
"Did you make the server thing?"
"It's a system, and yes. I told you I needed your blood and you agreed." He stood up from the chair and walked towards me. I was already half-butt down the bed. "What did you think I needed the blood for? Drink it?" His utterance showed he was disappointed for thinking that low of him.
"Then what for?" I fired back, shifting my face from Lazaro down at Thomas. I'm thankful the low noise wasn't audible enough to wake him.
Lazaros's expression stiffened, and so also did his voice. "If I wanted to drink it, we wouldn't be talking right now." Without reducing the intensity of his voice and scorn on his face, he spoke again. "Let's go," He picked my torn shirt from the chair and hurled it at me to wear. "We have an appointment to catch up to." He strolled over to the window and looked down at Thomas, his head tilted as he motioned with it for me to step closer.
And I did after wearing the shirt. Watching the insane man walk to the window, I knew that Lazaros was planning to hop out. I didn't bother to ask how he entered.
"Let's go," Lazaros said, holding my wrist abruptly and jumping out of the window.
"Wait- Christ!" I exclaimed as Lazaros let go of my wrist as he passed the window. I landed on the ground face-planted. "Fuck you, Lazaros," I grunted raising myself and dusting the sand off my face. "Give heads up you-"
"You talk too much, Rome," Lazaros said, flinging me a disapproving look. "Now let's go."
Lazaros didn't wait for me this time as he ran into oblivion, running with a speed a person would easily deem impossible. I knew I had to follow him, to see what he was up to before I lost his trail.
Lazaros' speed was unmatchable, but I could make traces of his steps and ran pursuing him. After what seemed like hours, the sprinting and watching objects sluggish movement, forceful wind hitting my face gradually stopped. This amount of wind renders a warm-blooded soul to be subjected to a bloody frostiness, but I wasn't feeling anything.
We ran a distance, I pursued Lazaros with the fear of losing his trail and Lazaros giving me a hard time with his speed.
Finally, Lazaros stopped.
I heaved for air and Lazaros remained the same, not even breathing deeply and his finger-combed hair in place. Goodness.
"We're here," Lazaros said, turning to face me without a hint of his usual smugness. He looked serious.
I did a quick inspection of the place and found nothing unusual. Just far from houses and on top of a mountain; A very tall mountain.
Lazaros walked over to the cliff and signalled for me to follow. He looked down the cliff and so did I. "What's the probability you'll survive falling?" He strangely asked, not lifting his head from the sight of the void.
It's shady, void and deep. Just peeking at it, I felt like I was falling. "That depends on what you're thinking,"
His head twirled to me with a smirk, "Do you wanna find out?"
"No." The answer came too quickly, causing Lazaros to chuckle.
"I'll be right back," He said, running off and I thought of doing the same; running away and leaving this early-morning madman.
Three minutes later Lazaros was back. But he wasn't alone. He brought a female on his shoulder; a sleeping lady. She wasn't just sleeping, her heart rate wasn't pacing fast. That's when I smelt it. The scent of blood crawling out of a tiny hole, and the sanitizing smell of a hospital bed.
I inhaled, discovering Lazaros brought an unconscious lady wearing patient clothing from the hospital. Then I understood the blood was prowling from a vein which is supposed to have a tube connecting it to a blood bag.
Lazaros laid the body down and I took in the recognition. It was the girl I had bitten and left on the roadside for passersby to see.
"I said I'll teach you how to govern these fangs and claws," Lazaros said. "By dawn, you'll be back at the academy; I've done a bit of compelling after leaving the woods." He squatted beside the sleeping girl and held her dripping wrist, raising his head to me.
"What are you doing?"
"A little test, and a massive control lesson." He casually replied. "The last thing I want is you exposing your fangs and claws after seeing blood at the academy. I don't want you dead. If I want you gone, you'll be in heaven by now." Three seconds after saying this, his claw stretched out of his nails and he slid it with speed across her palm with a single file. He held up the wrist and allowed the drops to fall on her stomach.
I was too stunned to speak. Partially from Lazaros bringing a patient up here exposed to the cold, and mainly from the stench of bliss penetrating my nostrils. My eyes wavered from hazel and another as they absentmindedly remained fixed on the dripping blood and crawling down to her elbow.
And I felt them pull. The claws pushed for freedom to create more blood holes in her, and my fangs itched and strained to feel the texture and warmth wrapping around them.
"Fucking stop it," I groaned as the thought of tearing her to pieces crossed my mind. I wasn't a beast. Hell, I wanted to protect and save lives; not tear one to pieces. I marvelled at how Lazaros didn't seem affected by the blood and even wiped the stain on his finger on her shirt.
"Control it, or tear her apart. Your choice." Lazarus said, shrugging. He let go of her wrist and let it fall on her stomach. He raised his body and backed away from the girl. "But remember, tear her apart and beloved Tommy's coming apart."
That wasn't an option, I wasn't planning on killing anyone. My thoughts grunted inside me. It's torture and toying with my brother's life. And shit, slumping my fangs into her and she wouldn't survive the first two gulps.
Any rash action, and she's dead. And so will Thomas.
I gathered my frustration and punched the wall beside me. My fingers slid down and my claws made a scratching sound. The urge to pierce the claws into something warm and smooth washed over me and the thirst began overpowering him. So, I stabbed my claws into my palm as I balled my fist, dark blood rushing from my palm. I bent towards her and raised her into my arms. Being this near, the scent of blood almost clouded my senses, heightening my mind with thoughts of the bliss of the taste. I threw a glance at Lazaros, before running off.
Lazaros watched the retreating figure and frowned at his failed attempt to make the sharps go away. "I'll try the boiling method next." He said to himself and sprinted into the wind.
I traced the hospital with the smell of patient attire. Roughly guessing the time to be 04:00 am. I hide from the sight of the security guards and avoid the eyes of the few nurses present. I didn't know what room she was in, so I pursued the undead stench of Lazaros and found her room. The nurses hadn't come to check up on her yet since they hadn't raised an alarm. Which was a good thing.
I opened the door, closing it after I stepped in. The light in the room was dim, but the stench of blood coming from the blood bag and her bleeding wrist almost made me take her away to devour her.
I am surprised at how I was controlling it.
Lowering her gently to the ground, I decided against the bed noticing her blood-filled gown. I rose from the ground, leaving her and searched for an extra gown across the room. But found nothing. So I slid out of the room to search the storage room for an extra. And I found it.
On my way back to the room, I heard a shout for security. My heart leapt painfully in its cage as I slowed down upon getting close to the room. A few bodies brushed past me as they rushed into the room and the securities with alarm expressions suddenly began conducting a search.
I let the gown slip from my finger to the ground and began to run towards the open window. I was on the seventh floor. I hadn't flown from such a height before. But it's better than being killed. As I ran I heard voices;
"It's an infected person. Find it and kill it." One of the security said, cocking his gun as he walked.
"How did you know?" The other asked carefully.
"The double holes on her neck, and the slash on her wrist. Very infected-people-like." He said with disdain. "He must have run off when he heard the nurse's footsteps. Those infected people are dangerous, Liam, they are beasts!"
I tried to ignore the stinging words as I suddenly came to a halt. I wasn't a beast. Those people don't know what they're talking about. Getting Infected wasn't my decision. I was supposed to die, but thankfully I didn't.
As I shook my head as set to run again I heard a gun cocking behind me, pointing at my head. Those talking voices weren't near, and I must have paid more attention to their words than movements near me.
I unhurriedly raised my arms, afraid any rash movement would subject a pending metal pebble into my brain. I'd made sure to bury my claws into my fist and hide the fangs behind my lips.
"Fingers spread," The security commanded. "And turn around, slowly."
My palms clenched unknowingly and blood rolled down my arms. I could hear the rapid beating and skips of the security's heart. I was very attentive to the tight grip of the pistol.
I turned around slowly. The thoughts of hurting the security to run away crossed my mind but I shook it off. I was standing facing the mid-twenties young man whose gun was pointing at my face. I watched as his eyes fell on the blood stain on my shirt and the holes in it.
"Fingers spread," He insisted, carefully walking back. "And open your mouth." The way his voice sounded almost made me believe the security was wishing I wasn't infected. And that's not because he cared about me, but his own safety. He doesn't want to die as a meal.
I slowly unfurled my palm, finger by finger. My long claws come into view. Then everything seemed to slow down as I heard the sound of the gun pressing to shoot, I swerved my body readily to dodge the bullet when the slow moment suddenly faded with a drop of the gun on the ground. Lazaros had his claws clasped around the young man's neck.
"Wait-" I tried to say, but Lazaros punctured his claws into his neck and twisted his neck till I heard the bones breaking sound. Before letting go of him to drop like his gun.
"You're miserable, Roman," He commented, leaning toward the dead male and wiping his fingers clean. "Was watching the show unfold and it's terrible; Pathetic. You will make a lousy actor if you venture into the entertainment industry."
My eyes dilated with stunners as I stared at the dead male. "You killed him-"
Lazaros cut me off. "You can thank me later, but right now let's go. God, if I wasn't here you would have been dead."
I heard the word 'God' being uttered by him, and I wanted to question if he knew what the word meant.
"I had it under control,"
"Oh, I'm sure you did," Sarcasm clotted his tone, tossing me a side glare. "You want to dodge a bullet by leaning to the side it's setting off to? That's suicide." He clarified, walking passed me to the window. He looked down at the depth and turned his head towards me. "Are you sure you could have survived?" He questioned with a frown of disbelief, causing me to snort.
The stench of blood on the ground was affecting me.
Lazaros glanced at me weirdly and grabbed me by the wrist as voices approached and flew out of the window.
Christ.