Through Blood by Fate

The Incident

The attack in the alley was over; that was all the darkness told her. It wasn't that she didn't feel the fire in her body; the burning sensation was all over her skin, not just where the blade had gone in, but it was ebbing away. Besides that, her head reeled, trying to sort it all out. The soft surface beneath her back said she was not stuck dying against the wall. Like a clouded memory, she did remember a woman helping her and then offering to take her home, not the hospital; this beckoned questions about the reality of her situation.

Time seemed to slow as one hand reached to feel for the wound. The pain that didn't come at touching the area only added further questions. As she lay there perplexed, the fire before began to feel chilled. Like goosebumps except inside, making sitting up feel less slow and pained.

The room around her looks unique, like a mini museum, as she searches for a mirror but finds none. Her feet padded almost silently over the floor, each step bringing her closer to exiting the room; only then could she see a bathroom from the doorway. Flicking the light on, she faces the mirror. Something looked off, but she glimpsed over her body to her abdomen.

Frightened at the sight of no hole beneath the one in her shirt, she patted it and prodded her fingers at the skin, but nothing. Looking hadn't changed anything; the blood on her shirt was dried, and the stab was gone. Just as she went to exit in a huff to find this mysterious woman, a noise caught her attention.

One usually would ignore something as minor as someone kicking a bottle across the pavement, but her ears heard it, and then she also picked up a cough. Drawn to the window, she slid it open and inhaled, feeling a breeze blow in her face. The icy goosebump sensation spread just before an unnatural kind of hunger filled her mind.

As the man sits behind the trash bins and lays a blanket over his legs, she feels herself moving closer, leaning out. It doesn't register for her until both feet are particularly wedged between bricks and her fingers dig into the wall that she is outside, climbing closer to this man.

He smells as homeless as he appears, but it doesn't matter as she hangs just above him. A sharp prick forces her mouth open, but what it was precisely evades her as a blur of things occurs. She is on top of him after a slightly surprised, scared Yelp escapes him. His heart is racing, the bins are banged, and the struggle stops. The icy sensation dissipates, and a pair of hands grab her firmly.

Licking her lips, Rosalina feels a slick liquid drip; her hand catches it. Drips swell into the cupped hand, filling the palm instantly. Rosalina didn't need to see it to know the metallic taste in her mouth was blood. She wants to scream but doesn't so as not to make the situation worse, and instead looks at the woman with panic racing through her.

"What...? How...?" she can't get the right questions to come out. The familiar woman tells her to take a deep breath. The panic, however, doesn't disappear as she finally realizes that under the hand on her chest, her heart isn't pounding. When she does exhale, she bends over, needing to puke.

"Oh no! over the cans." She's told, and strangely, she lets herself be guided to them. It's not a lot, despite the disgust she knows she feels. "Let's get you inside." Again, she follows. She wants answers. No, she needs them. "Sit a moment. I have to go deal with..." she trails off, not wanting to remind her. Her eyes are a soft, familiar amber; it must be the reason she decides to listen to her.

A few minutes later, the woman enters the room again, bringing in a strong lemon and peroxide smell. Setting a spray bottle down, the dark-haired woman sits in a chair near her, clapping her hands on her legs as she does so. She looks woeful at first but casts this aside as she adjusts her gaze to her.

"My name is Jade. You work at the diner down the road. I... You were attacked." Jade, the name buzzes in her head, and then it clicks why she looks so recognizable.