Soul of Lucifer: Lost - First Ten Chapters

Soul of Lucifer: Lost

Copyright © 2021 Rune Rivers

1

How Not to Bleed to Death on Public Transportation

This wasn't the first time Oren had stumbled onto a midnight bus whilst nursing a stab wound. The young blonde wobbled up the metal steps. Her right hand - cleaner than its coiled, bloodied counterpart - fluttered the laminated bus pass before the eyes of the driver.

A nod, a return dip of the chin, and she shuffled off to an empty seat four rows back. Clatters and squeals of the engine greeted her ears as the route resumed. A magnetism brought her temple to the cool glass of the window, its surface rumbling against her skull in a way that, at any other time, would be a nuisance. Now though? A crutch for her heavy head.

Down her intense blue eyes fell, hand daring a moment to remove the frayed sweater that served as gauze for the gape in her abdomen. Scarlet stained the garment, infusing its cornflower fibers with her draining life liquid. The red hue glittered inconsistently with each passing streetlight, dryness overcoming the fabric as the blood began to clot.

Not fast enough. She thought to herself, folding the fabric back over. If I don't get proper attention soon, I- No, no time for that.

The wrenching of a pothole sent a grunt through her chest. She gritted her teeth to suck back the oncoming moan, as to avoid the draw of eyes. A few shallow breaths helped, too much and her diaphragm would greet the sting in her belly. She brought her clean hand up, brushing back the pesky baby hairs at the front of her scalp, the usual tickle an insult to what was surely a blackened eye. The golden river that dripped to her elbows was speckled with dirt and gravel now, pieces falling into her lap as she adjusted. She tried to ignore the throbbing at her temple, the glass starting to grate on her nerves. The stiffness in her neck would simply have to put up with her skull again. A short sigh escaped her.

I should go to Elijah; he'll be able to help me. I'll find a spot to heal, then drop by his room. Maybe he can help me figure out...what exactly? How hard did I hit my head? I must be concussed, okay, think.

She relaxed her neck best she could, falling back against the headrest.

Found the bus stop, panicked because I put my pass in my other pocket today - since I didn't bring my phone, expected a fight and didn't need another broken screen. No way to call a friend, and not interested in getting into an ambulance today. Couldn't afford it - wait, did I register my renewal? I couldn't have, I shut the card account down for- shit! Focus!

"Hey, lady!" squeaked a small voice. A boy of about eight years leaned his hands against the free seat. A vibrant neon bag was slung over his shoulders. She peered somber blue eyes over.

"Need something, kiddo?" She tried to sound somewhat soothing, shifting her sweater further over her stomach. He blinked, looking over her.

"Are you one of those DRUNK people?!" he squawked.

Oh, if only.

She groaned gently, pushing into a more erect posture.

"No, kiddo, just having a rough day is all." She shook her head, "Hey, where are your parents?"

"My mom's sleeping. She told me to wake her up when the bus driver takes his fifth smoke break and that we would go to Bingo's for breakfast," he said. "Do you like dinosaurs?"

"Bingo's does make a good pancake," she nodded tiredly. The throbbing in her head ensued, worsened by the motion. There was a simultaneous hunger and disgust at the mention of food, a desperation for refreshment and a flop of the stomach. She mulled it over a moment. "You know, I've always thought Pterodactyls were pretty cool looking. What about you?"