Soulmates

Chapter 8 : War

The outside air upon going outside immediately cleared out all of the bad smells that lied within that weird ranch house. It was looking to be around noon, the slight heat was barely noticeable, but was pleasant and was kind of relaxing, but here soon it'll probably kick up a few degrees and become fucking unbearable. But, for now it's warm and somewhat tolerable, a bit too dry for me. A wave of both fatigue and exhaustion overwhelm me, and I sigh deeply, staring out into the field of dead (potentially painted) grass. All things considered, whoever did this did a hell of a job, I mean this is potentially miles of land that they would've had to paint. I would be impressed had this place not held a murderous cult-like actor.

The pain in both my arm and on my nose were dulling down slightly, but not by much, and they served as a constant reminder of what had just happened. I still don't know what to think about what had just happened, in fact, it's almost like I can't. That moment of rage drained me and right now everything just feels numb, just a dull, empty, almost euphoric feeling. Had this situation not have been as fucked up as it was I might have been able to relax a bit, but as it was, I couldn't. I mean, how could I? And then the reality of zed situation dawned on me. That actor knew my name, more specifically my last name, a name that I never use. Meaning, that this soulmate cult has access to information about me. And if they know my last name, then they sure as hell know my family, and I'd hate to think what they'd do to them. Goddamn it, and to make this worse, that's the best thing I could think of. It's much more likely that someone could be watching me at this very moment, at a distance far beyond what my eyes can perceive, ready to fire and kill me on the spot. My death wouldn't even be justified, and I'd just die without ever getting the closure of knowing who framed me. Goddamn. I'm not going to lie, I'm a bit scared of what these people could do, but nonetheless, I was able to take down one member, and I'll sure as hell take down another. It takes more than bullets apparently to take me down, and if they think they can just up and kill me, then they'll have another thing fucking coming. I tightened my left fist tightly in slight anger, renewed confidence washed over me, getting rid of that empty numb feeling and returning me back to normal, damn it I should've enjoyed that while I could.

But then a tinge of pain washed over me, breaking my train of thought and reminding me of my wounds again. I looked towards my left arm and noticed that it was coated in blood, felt around my nose and confirmed the same thing. I suppose getting excited sort of got my blood flowing again... Huh, I'm actually bleeding a lot more than I originally thought I would. The original coat of blood around my arm soon started to run out as a slow steady blood stream started to rise over the wound. Something tells me that this is not good. Eh, but I don't feel any of the symptoms of blood loss just yet, no dizziness, coldness or even paling of the skin... then again the area that's injured is currently surrounded with blood, so I guess I can't really say that I'm cold. But, needless to say, I shouldn't walk around coated in blood, there's no telling what kind of pests this could bring, and I'm sure as hell not dealing with any mosquitos, fucking hate those things. So with that, I went back into the house. I ignored the corpse of the dead actor and made it back to the bathroom, my blood dripping onto the floor as I walked down the hall. This is going to hurt like hell, but I don't have much of a choice, like anything in my Goddamn life. Opened the door, closed it behind me, and walked up to the sink. Upon seeing myself against the reflection on the mirror, I was glad to report that my nose isn't entirely coated in blood, it's just around the general area. Other than that, I surprisingly look well, and no, that's not a narcissistic comment, that's just natural fact bitch. I turned the knob on the sink and released some normal, hopefully warm, clean water. Waited for a few seconds and confirmed that the water will remain clean, good because I don't think I want to clean my arm with whatever the hell that black liquid was before. I looked around the bathroom for something to use and found a small white, sort of tattered, hand-towel, and while the condition of zed hand-towel wasn't the best, it'll do. I wet down the towel with lukewarm water, ringed it out, and then hovered over the injuries.