Once Bitten

Monster (42)

There was always something uncomfortable about waking up since the apocalypse started. Usually, it was because his nights were either plagued with nightmares or because he was waking with aches and pains in his shoulders and legs from sleeping in weird positions.

Lately, he'd been waking up feeling just as tired as he had when going to sleep, so it wasn't that surprising when MK woke up exhausted, inhaling loudly with closed eyes. 

What was surprising was how blank his mind felt like he hadn't dreamed at all last night, and there was a weird fogginess around his head that made him, somewhere deep down, feel scared. 

It was that nagging voice saying, something is wrong, that made him turn, opening his crusty eyes and blinking dizzily. He didn't feel well. Something was wrong. 

He groaned, mouth feeling dry like a desert, and then moved his arm up to rub at his face, moving the duvet on top of him as he did so. There was something cold and hard looped around his wrist, and he frowned, blinking with blurry eyes only to find a handcuff wrapped around his wrist and confusion twisted in his chest before blooming into panic, breath hitching in his chest as he remembered- 

Her. He remembered her and she- she drugged him, hadn't she? 

Breathing loud and terrified, he shoved the covers off his legs, sitting up quick enough to make him dizzy and staring around a teenage boy's room that he was lying in, a quietness around him he didn't like. 

This was wrong. He couldn't take in the room around him, eyes flicking over the shelves and books and pictures and narrowing in on the door instead. It seemed so tantalizingly close, so easy to get to and desperation lurched in MK's chest as he rushed out of bed, regretting it the moment his legs were on the carpeted floor because they buckled under his weight and he gasped, clinging to the bed. 

 Fatigue gripped at him and his arm ached, making him hiss as he looked down at it only to be surprised at the sight of a blue shirt. A soft pyjama shirt with long sleeves. A blue shirt MK wasn't wearing before.

He gasped, looking down and finding himself in matching PJ bottoms and a feeling of horror curled in his gut, unsettled at the knowledge that he'd been asleep deep enough that someone could change him and he not even know. That vulnerability made him feel afraid, grabbing at the cuffs around his wrist and tugging. 

The other end was clasped to the bed, and he tried to slide it off his wrist, hissing at the feeling of the texture biting into his skin. It was too tight to slide off no matter how hard he pulled and he felt frustrated tears pool in the corners of his eyes, lips curled into a snarl as he brought the cuffs into his lap and tried to force it open. 

Loud footsteps down the hallway outside the room made him freeze, hearing the sound of feet on stairs, the creaking under each step leaving his heart racing faster and faster as they got closer and when they started walking toward his door he jerked backwards, eyes desperately searching the room only to find a lamp nearby. 

He reached for it, practically lunging in the direction only to get pulled back by the tension of the cuff on his wrist, keeping him close to the bed and pulling him back before he even got close. He fought back a cry of indignation, hearing the footsteps stop outside the door, and as the door handle twisted he fled back to the bed, backing himself to the wall like a cornered animal.

The door opened, and Jīng's smiling face was the first thing he saw. She walked in slowly, like she was approaching a cornered cat, and her eyes were deceptively soft but MK wasn't falling for it this time. 

"Hello, darling, did you sleep well? You must have been tired, you've been out a while." She said, tone casual the same way it had been before she'd kidnapped him and he frowned, eyes flashing with anger.