"It's Team Free Will 2.0. With two salty hunters, one half-angel kid, a dude that just came back from the dead again and the special addition; a tinker-"
"What? No buzzer this time?"
"Uhu, buzzer sounds unmelodious. You don't."
"So you've finally...
Warning: Hint of future sexual intercourse, nothing detailed.
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It was the sound of a man's harsh voice that had consciousness slowly seeping back, and once my mind settled into its original place, I realized the voices were coming from the other side of the wall.
Were my walls this thin?
The place which I was renting for the last two days was pretty fancy if you asked me, so my eyes drifted open when the thought hit me. Blinking a few times, I stared up at the foreign ceiling which seemed to be once a proud bearer of the color white. But now cobwebs and greasy marks were the only things that adorned it. A fan was spinning round and round right above me, and the setting was so low that my eyes could follow the blades.
Panic bubbled in my chest and I tried to ignore the headache pounding in rhythm with my heartbeat. Slowly, I sat up in the bed that was way harder than anything I was ever used to, and gathering from my surrounding I would say I was at some cheap motel. But m the problem was I had no idea how I got here, or how long I had been in this place. I was confused, sore, disoriented, and achy all over my body...
My panic eased a little when I realized I was still fully dressed, wearing the god-awful dress my mother once bought me and as I contemplated what to do next, I heard footsteps off in the distance– heavy and exaggerated as they grew near. I strained my ears and held my breath when the knob across the room turned loudly, and the door cracked open.
Oh, God! Oh, God! Shit, what have I gotten myself into?
The moment a man stepped inside and I caught a glimpse of him, memories started to flood in. The bar, dancing, drinking, stepping outside as I tried to search for the bathroom but somehow found a strange man waiting there. Oh no! Did he put drugs in my drink? I vaguely remembered this green-eyed man punching the other one and then there was nothing. I was drawing a blank.
Carefully with the corner of my eyes, I took him in– early twenties, young and soulful yet his eyes speak of a profound maturity. They were deep set, full of knowledge. And he was tall, at least six feet tall.
He was wearing a leather jacket with a black sabbath T-shirt. A golden amulet hanging from his neck shone brightly in the dim lamplight. He hesitated in the doorway when he noticed me sitting up, one hand had a plastic bag, another one still grasping the knob, but after a moment he let go of it and took a few steps toward me. Instinctively, I grabbed the blanket and pull it up, shielding myself, despite the fact that I was still clothed. The act made him hesitate a second time. He paused, and kept staring, but didn't speak and I wasn't sure what to do, or say. I felt like a fool, just sitting here, wrapped up in his sheets.
