Semi-Unintentional B&E

[Emmelin]

Right now, I am in Carraig. Written words scribbled upon the notes. Why would she accept such an ominous thing? It scrunched in her fingers. Laughable to think she knew someone with such sloppy scripting. Breathless, her eyes narrowed an her blood pumped. It was familiar; cute almost that she recognized it. Who was the person who poked at her conscious. Blood flashed across her face and for once Valeria found herself terrified. The hunter was now the haunted, but as for who was chasing her, she didn't know. In fact, she was relatively lost by such actions she had committed. Perhaps she had a secret hope it'd be HIM, but then again, maybe not. The frayed ends of her life for once were left untied and paranoia was beginning to severely affect her psyche in the form of insomnia. She couldn't breathe without a glance of suspicion. Lately she'd been sloppy.. almost normal as compared to her previous endeavors. Her eyes dimmed and yet were afire with something like timidness.

Each step was silent, yet echoed loudly in her head. She stopped and turned her head: paranoid. What was that? The scampering of feet made her heart race. She pulled up her hood to cover her face and hurried once more. There was something going on and Valeria wasn't exactly pleased. Her eyes rose to find eyes peering at her. Without a weapon; she was in trouble. Panic bolted through her body and she pretended not to notice. Each step, the person followed.. or was it the beast that she desperately evaded in her very soul? A sound hit her ears and for a moment she thought she felt- something not right, but panic was too deeply embedded.

Shadows darted about and Valeria sped further. Her black cloak carried behind her. No.. she wasn't ready just yet- A house was there, in the rainy dark night, she couldn't tell it from any other, but it looked familiar. Forgetting she was in Carraig, she walked up, to find the door unlocked. Strange as it was, she simply allowed the thoughts to tell her that this was someone she must have known. Why else would the door be unlocked? With agile movement, she locked the door, only to just then realize a pain in her side. After she pressed the hand to her side, she had then seen a mosaic of red painted upon her hands. She was bleeding- shit. The adrenaline was lacking and she could feel herself begin to fall unconscious. Loud thunder outside cackled at the misfortune. Truly she was losing her touch. Her body slid and soon she was upon her side; out cold in some person's house, little to know she didn't even know this stranger.

[Tulon Winters]

Tonight's novel was bumming out Tulon's mellow home vibe. It was a romance novel, just one among the dozens in his family's library, and it made him realize just how alone he was here. On Rigou Heights, these huge mountains in which he resided, didn't see much traffic. His job was a lonely one too; he worked on his own too much to get to know anyone else at the station. He could...talk to some at the dance hall, have a very enjoyable time at a social event or even a ball...but it wasn't enough somehow. He needed someone he could actually talk to. Someone to have a fun time with, to know on an intimate level. Someone with similar experience to him, similar interests. In shorter terms, a friend. But it wasn't like some person like that could just fall from the sky, right?

Tulon couldn't stomach any more of this book right now as he stood and left it in the sill seat of his bedroom; his window framing the city lights below perfectly like bustling stars. His cotton plaid sleep pants hung loose under his black robe as he went down the stairs, passing by the floor corridors. He looked into one of them at a door which faintly glinted yellow...it was police tape. He couldn't stomach that door either and continued downstairs to his kitchen, rain pattering in his ear and lightning crackling and thunder pounding. He swore he heard his door lock, but he mistook it for just some thunder. His house was dark, but the lightning was enough light to guide him.

There were puddles on his floor. They were dark, which was great contrast to the marble flooring it lied on. Once another lightning flash landed, he saw the red. It was blood, no mistake, and there was no one in here but him. Or was there? Because slumped over in the corner...was a body. He jolted to action, jumping the remaining stairs and switch on the crystal chandelier above his head, bringing light across the foyer. She was gorgeous, unconcious, but gorgeous. But now wasn't the time, she's was bleeding out.

Time to get to work.

He picked her up, a small feat, and put her on his kitchen island, taking off her cloak. He reached into the under-sink cabinet and grabbed his medical kit, laying it out next to the unconscious woman. He took the scissors first and cut around the wound, taking off the fabric that was sticking to it. Next, peroxide to disinfect it and as it bubbled, it needed pressure. He took out a compress and pushed it to her wound, thankfully not being to wide for stitching. Then, he lifted her shirt above her stomach and proceeded to give her a bandage wrap. She was still out, too. He had no idea how long she'd been out. But she was breathing, and that was all he cared about at the moment. Back into his arms she went as he went to the living room, placing her onto the velvet couch. He left only for a moment for the kitchen again to get orange juice. Then he sat on the table and stared.

She was, as he'd noticed earlier, gorgeous. A very nice, wispy figure with long brown hair and a small, snoozing face. Her more...prominent features made him blush as he paid more attention, but he had to shake his head violently not to stare at them. All he needed to worry about was her waking up. Then the questions would come up. A good detective asks questions.

[Emmelin]

It was a strange dream which she had.  Fast asleep in a dream land where the sweetest dreams could come true and yet for her, there were none.  There were only bad dreams where her greatest fears swallowed her up.  This was different, but still not happy.  Faces flashed before; smiling faces that she seemed to suck the life right out of just by being around.  A touch and the smile was gone to a frown. Her stomach lurched in her sleep and she felt shivers of cold.  

Torture-  Those were people she ruined. Then, there was she, herself, hanging by a string.  She too, was just a puppet on a string.  Complete terror trembled down her spine and jolted her awake with a start.  Her body trembled while her head ached dully.  With her eyes wide, she caught sights that pooled in slowly.  Where- was she?  who was she?  Her gloved fingers twitched as she regained her composure.  

"Wh-"  Pain snuck into her side again.  Blissful pain that occupied her mind.  It was a drug that prevented foul thoughts from encroaching on her.  She wasn't going to think about the more worrisome disappointment in her gut.  It was only then she realized she wasn't even in a familiar abode.  

A man was there-- a man- she nearly had a heart attack, however the lack of blood red eyes eased her mind some.  This wasn't Adry, thank the lords.  Then again, HAD it been Adry, she was sure he would have killed her.  She wouldn't be awake at the very moment.  However.. more pressing matters-

"Who are you?"  She spoke with her honey voice; violet eyes narrow and curious, but not angry.

[Jay Furor]

~BUMP~

[Sponsored content]