Part VII, Nevermore

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                                                                --Chicago Suburb, Illinois, USA--

Sapphire walked down the street, holding her yellow umbrella against the rain. Her normal cheerful disposition was nowhere to be found. The study session had run late, and she wasn't looking forward to her 7AM molecular science class the next day. She had done her friend a favor by helping her study, but she knew she was going to regret her generosity in a few hours when she had to be up for school.

When Sapphire rounded the corner something unexpected caught her eyes. A man was laying in the street, unmoving. Had he not directly under the streetlight she would have missed him completely.

He was utterly naked and had long hair. For a moment Sapphire did little more than stand there, blinking, her brain trying to process what she was seeing. Then the realization sunk in and she ran over, kneeling down, oblivious to the fact her jeans became soaked.

He was passed out. She put down her umbrella, shielding him from some of the rain. Though the water had washed some of it away, he was bleeding from a nasty, jagged cut on his face. It ran from his eyebrow all the way down to his chin on the left side. It went over his eye, and she hoped he didn't have eye damage. Her hand shot out and when she touched him his eyes flew open.

Sapphire would have thought him to be albino if not for the fact he had jet black hair that looked as though it had never been brushed or cut. He was pale, sickly looking, and he blinked at her with a look of fear.

"Hey," she said gently. "You're okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

The emaciated man whimpered, recoiling from her touch. She cursed the cell phone in her pocket that needed to be charged. He appeared to be in dire need of medical attention.

"Look," she said, sliding an arm around his frail frame. "I can bring to you my apartment and call for help there. It's just right up the street. Can you walk?"

He looked at her, confused. His long fringe stuck to his forehead, and she brushed it aside. "Can you talk?" When he didn't answer, Sapphire took that as a 'no'. "Alright then, on three. One, two, three."

With some difficulty she got the lanky, unwieldy man to his feet. She stooped down to grab her umbrella and then continued on her way. Helping him along proved to be difficult; he was a good head taller than her and he kept stumbling everywhere. Sapphire was admittedly confounded; he was walking as though he were drunk, or maybe didn't even know how to walk at all.

By the time they reached her place his walking was thankfully a bit more steady. Sapphire opened the door and led him to the second floor where her apartment was. She led him in and sat him down at the kitchen table.

He was watching her with his large, strange red eyes. Now that he was in full light, Sapphire noticed just how pale he was. He almost looked translucent, as though he had never seen the light of day. His nails and toenails were long, apparently either never being cut or at least not trimmed for a very long time.

The wound on his face worried her—the more she looked at it, the more it reminded her of a claw mark. Without a word she rushed to the bathroom and grabbed two towels, draping one over his shoulders and using the other to squeeze out his sopping hair. When that was done she tossed it into his lap.

Sapphire rushed away again, banging closet doors and various drawers loudly as she frantically looked for a first aid kit. She finally found it under the sink in the bathroom and rushed back out. Taking a gauze pad to wipe away some of the blood, she spoke to him.

"Who did this to you?"

The man said nothing, simply blinked his red eyes.

"Do you have a name?"

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