Supernatural Blood

Chapter 9 - Salt on Old Wounds?... Ouch.

     "Samantha?" Wildstar gently tugged my sleeve, but I didn't even blink. I was in a totally different world now:

     "Let's see..." I murmured to myself. "There has to be something in the pantry." I swung down and landed on the shelf neatly. My hair was a little longer than then, but I was a lot brighter (in attitude) then.

     I found some bread, to my delight, and tore off a small piece, nibbling on it happily when the pantry doors were swung open. I let out a squeak of alarm and tried to run away, only to be trapped by glass walls. The man tipped the glass cup over, trapping me in it while he stared at me.

     "I finally caught you, you thief!" He hissed.

     "Let me go!" I wailed.

     "Why? We are gonna have so much fun, with you being my pet. You'll be better off!!" Smirking, he dropped me into a hamster cage. I ran into one of the tubes and curled up, letting sobs shake my tiny body. What did I do to deserve this!?

**********

     "Wake up pet!" I was rudely awakened when he pulled me out of the cage. I screamed in pain. "Shut up!" He snarled. My ears flattened, pressing against my head as he dropped me on the table.

     "OW!!!!!" I screeched. He picked me up again and dropped me into a hamster ball.

     "Fine! Go have fun and roll around in that little plastic ball!" I whimpered as he tapped it with his foot. He looked thoughtful for a moment before he suddenly kicked the hamster ball, sending me flying against the wall and landing with a bang!. I was knocked out unconscious.

**********

     "This is your lesson for not learning, you stupid mouse!" Eric snapped, picking the string up that had me tied on the other end. I struggled in protest as he tied the other end o the fan on the ceiling, the light turned on.

    "If you behave, you'll get to meet my other pets." He smirked before walking out of the room, leaving me sweating under the harsh light. I didn't want to meet his other pets. I've dealt with him for a week, and I don't feel very good. The string was so tight, allowing me little air as I panted and wheezed, scrambling to come up with an escape.

     Those pets could be my only hope.

     Eric walked back in the room, a cat closely following on his heels. But not too close, I noticed, its tail was a little lower than usual, and its ears were flattened.

     Eric snipped the string, me landing in his palm. He dropped me onto the ground, where I lay for a moment, wheezing, before shakily rising to my feet.

     "This is my cat Honey, and you're going to play Cat and Mouse." He snatched me and threw me at the cat, who shrank back from him. "Now."

     Honey hesitantly crawled over, sniffing me as I slowly regained my senses. I guess since he's calling me a mouse, he doesn't recognize what the tail and ears resemble.

     "Mroww... (Please help me)" I croaked. The cat tipped its head, responding with a mrow?, then without warning snatching me in its jaws and scampering away from Eric.

     "Hey!" He tried to chase the nimble feline, who ducked through the cat door, dropped me into a bush, and scampered off the other way before Eric opened the door. Eric swore under his breath before slamming the door behind him and chasing Honey while I trembled in the thick undergrowth, wheezing painfully.

     I escaped.

     I could barely recall falling asleep, but when I woke up, it was no longer sunset, but sun-high. I yawned slightly happily, getting my first good night sleep for an entire month (the time I had lived at that horrible man's/Eric's place). I hesitantly pulled myself to my feet, yawning again. I am not going back here, at Malibu. I'm going somewhere a little more busy, and maybe it'll keep my spirits up if I make it.

     I'm going to Los Angeles.

    "Earth to Samantha!" I finally jolted out of my horrific memory, blinking at the impatient Wildstar.

     "Wha?" I asked.

     "Adam asked if we want something to eat, while you were in La La Land."

     "Like what?" I inclined my head to look up at Adam, who was leaning over the couch. He shrugged.

     "Grilled Chicken?" He questioned. "I know I can't make it cause I suck at cooking, but maybe Ty's better, or Mitch." I couldn't help but laugh, slightly more relaxed.

     "Sounds perfect." I responded eagerly, comparing the current part of my timeline to three months ago.

     Hopefully.

     At least my "owners" respect me for now.