Once Bitten

Told You he'd be Back (26)

MK didn't remember falling asleep, especially since he'd been sitting and not lying down, but somehow he woke up at some point slumped on the floor, confused as he rubbed his eyes and blinked. It was dark around him, dull light coming in through the large windows and MK winced as he stretched out all the kinks in his legs. 

Apparently, the stress of what had happened had made him practically pass out, exhausted after all the physical exertion and crying. It was the second time we'd woken up in a row with crusted-shut eyes, and MK was starting to think it was becoming the norm. 

Based on the little light coming in through the window MK guessed he'd slept through the day, and it was likely now late evening, but it didn't look dark enough to be night which was good because was sure nighttime in a church would be terrifying, that's why MK planned on finding a side room, preferably one with two exits to curl up into sleep. 

Not that he was tired anymore, but maybe he'd fall asleep if he was comfy enough, so he picked himself up off the floor and went through the thick doors at the end of the chapel, heading to the rooms in the back used for child activities during the main service. Or at least, that's what MK assumed based on the decor and toys. 

There was also a kitchen-like room with a small fridge and sink, but what little food that had been in there was gone off, including the milk in the warm fridge. There was a pack of unopened biscuits MK tucked into, but honestly, his stomach was craving hot food, and the dry cookies didn't satisfy him at all.

He would kill for some proper food right now, or even just a freaking pot noodle to be honest. Anything warm sounded amazing.

Re-thinking his choice of words as the reminder of the creatures he'd killed, even if they were already dead, made him wince and he shook his head to get rid of the image, rubbing his hands against his trousers to wipe off the phantom feeling of brian matter splattered on them.

In the kid's nursery room, he found some blankets, which was difficult considering the lights wouldn't turn on and what little light was coming in through the windows was steadily getting dimmer and dimmer as it got darker and later.

Then he lay down on the carpeted floor, tucked up under a table to fall asleep with his legs tucked up to his chest in a cozy ball. Not that he was feeling very cozy, uncomfortable closing his eyes but not wanting to be awake in the pitch-black room.

He did fall asleep eventually but it took ages waking up was painful, having slept in an uncomfortable position all night leaving his joints aching in protest. His back ached when he stretched and he vaguely wondered if this was how old people felt all this time. If so, it sucked.

The church was less daunting in the morning light, a weird tranquillity in the empty place that came from the quiet rooms and the golden light pouring in through tall windows but it was still just that, empty, and MK peeked out the windows to the outside graveyard, peering around for any sight of Wukong. 

Nothing. He wasn't here then yet. What was taking him so long? Was he okay? 

I mean, he was Monkey King after all, and he did have a gun, so it was pretty unlikely that he was dead, right? 

Right. MK wasn't going to even entertain the thought otherwise because he wasn't sure what he'd do if he was dead, so MK had to believe he was okay. Maybe he just went to a different place then? Maybe MK was wrong about the church? It could have been the water tower. 

So the real question was should MK make his way over there or stay? What he left and Wukong did arrive though and they missed each other? Ugh, this was so frustrating! MK threw his hands in the air in annoyance, huffing loudly as he paced in the church aisle, walking back and forth down the pews as he thought.