Changeling - An otherkin story

Chapter 14 - Kala Becomes A What?

I trudge my way downstairs towards the hospital wing, and towards Sofia, who's expression I can clearly imagine, along with the accompanying lecture. The doors open to the familiar sterile halls, and I step out. She's waiting for me.

"You're late."

"I was busy," I reply.

I swing my tail sharply from side to side, agitated.

"You are never too busy for your own health. My office please."

Yikes. Down in her office, she unwraps my wing quickly, layers of bandage falling away. I avoid looking.

"It's doing ok," she says. "I won't wrap it again, but it's still fragile. You'll have to be careful. And unfortunately it's not ready to have another chip put in yet."

I sigh.

"I want to get you back on duty, Kala. I don't like seeing you sidelined like this."

"It's not my injuries that are keeping me benched."

"I remember, but no need to give them another excuse." She pauses. "I heard the news about... about him being back."

My lips pull up on their own exposing my fangs, a quiet growl reverberating in my throat.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Keep feeding every second day and we'll get you back out there. You deserve that."

***

Archer bursts into our room, the door flying open and hitting the luckily reinforced wall.

"Kala, are you ok? I heard the news and -"

"Archer. Relax. I'm... ok."

"Don't lie to me. You can lie to everyone else, but don't lie to me. I love you. And I know what that piece of shit did to you. You can talk to me."

I hesitate, the images from this morning when Jedrek first told me replay in my head. I shake my head.

"Ok then," he replies. "Grab your gym clothes, let's spar."

He doesn't need to tell me twice, and less than 10 minutes later we are down at the gym warming up on the mats. For safety, I've wrapped my wing up lightly, both to prevent myself from trying to use it, and to protect it from getting damaged. I stand from my floor stretches and jump up and down on the spot, practising a few kicks into the air. I eye off the row of heavy punching bags down the hall, I think that I'd love to actually hit something before I spar with Archer. 

I jog over to the bags and kick at the first one with a jumping turning kick, then straight into a back kick onto the second bag which swings back towards me, I twist around and plough my fist into the bag. I keep going, technique after technique, pouring all my strength into the heavy bag. Why would that fucker come back? Jumping front strike. Why does he still make me feel like this? Twist kick, turning kick, spinning heel kick, back fist strike. How many others has he hurt over the years? The bag morphs into him. I cock my leg and strike out with a powerful sidekick right into his gut, causing the bag to swing heavily, as it swings back I step in and thrust my elbow into the bag, aiming for the bastard's face. I feel my fangs against my lip. The urge to tear into his throat.

I see movement out of the corner of my eye, I turn and jump backwards and watch as Archer's foot glides through the air where my head just was. Cheeky. He continues his attack, following me with another kick. I side step him, and jump backwards with a defensive crescent kick off my front leg, trying to lead us back onto the proper sparring mats and away from the bags. We both step in at the same time, I see Archer's elbow come around and quickly switch legs and flick out with a hooking kick straight at his head. He misses, but I don't. My tail twitches, sensing movement behind me, and I step out of the stance instantly, getting some space, to watch as Liam very nearly nails Archer with a flying side kick.