Fire and Ice

Part 1

I sighed. Another day, driving home just after dark to my lonely apartment. The sky was cloudy. Weird, I thought. It was supposed to be clear all week. But it looked like it was about to rain. As I looked into the clouds, a bright light shot down from the center of it. It blasted into the woods, and I made the split second decision to investigate. I pulled off of the nearest exit, pulling my car over to the side of the small road next to the trees. I sprinted through, looking for any sign of what just happened. Nothing looked disturbed until I made it deeper into the woods. There was some kind of pattern on the dirt. In the center was a black mass. I ran over and inspected it. I moved what felt like leather, and a pale face sat in front of me. An unconscious man, with raven hair and prominent cheekbones was laying on the ground. My brain was moving a mile a minute. Why was this guy laying there? Did he come from the sky? What are these symbols? Who is he?

A groan came from the man. He was alive! I checked for any injuries and gasped. Blood was seeping from his chest, staining the strange fabric he was wearing. Blue and red lights illuminated the forest, and I looked around. The police had arrived, most likely to investigate the light. If they found a guy from the sky, they would interrogate him. But he didn't need an interrogation. He needed help. I pulled his arm over my shoulder, and struggled to pick up his large body. My legs shook as I dragged him to my car. I leaned back my passenger seat quickly, noticing the cars that had congregated on the other side of the trees. He was laid out as best as I could get him, and I quickly drove home, noticing the blood stains on his shoulder as well.

Once inside my house, I laid him out on my couch so I could get my first aid kit and clean sheets. Once the sheets were on the floor, I got the man on them. Using my knife, I cut away the fabric of his shirt, noticing two stab wounds, not particularly deep. I checked his pulse. Still alive. I wrapped the shoulder wound tightly in cloth, my priority the chest. As carefully as I could, I wiped it down with antiseptic and stitched it. Veterinary classes paid off. After an excruciating few minutes, both wounds were cleaned, stitched, and bandaged. His breathing was even and pulse was fine. I grabbed a pillow and set it under his head and decided sleeping on the couch would be my best option.

At about four o'clock the next morning, I woke up to the sound of stomping feet. I sat up quickly, but the front door and windows were closed and intact. The floor was empty, just a rumbled blood stained sheet left. I jolted off of the couch to look for the man I had saved. He hadn't gotten far. Hunched over my sink, he stood there, holding his hand against his chest.

"Sir, are you alright?"
He jumped at the sound of my voice, and I noticed there was a knife in his other hand. He stumbled towards me, obviously in pain.

"Who are you?" he growled, holding the knife towards my throat. I raised my hands to show him I wasn't trying to harm him.

"My name is Diana. I found you in the woods. I cleaned up and stitched your wounds. Please sit down, you're going to hurt yourself."
His eyes softened at the realization of the bandages on his bare shoulder and chest. The knife lowered and I relaxed.

"I appreciate your assistance. But I must leave. Where is my shirt?" He walked around into my living room to see the rags on the floor. His arms tensed as he turned around.

"What's this?" he asked, holding up the tattered and bloody remnants of his shirt. I stepped forward.

"I needed to get it off so I could clean the blood. I promise I have something you can use."
"No! I'm not wearing some stupid mortal fabric. This was my favorite garment and you've reduced it to rags!"
His face was full of rage and I stepped back reflexively. But for some reason, I knew he wouldn't hurt me.

"'Mortal fabric?' What do you mean? Are you not mortal?"
His eyes widened for a split second. Then he was right in front of me, across the room before I could blink.