Walker

Chapter 8

Walker followed his senses, the evening air cool against his skin. Hours had passed since Lena left, and a gnawing worry settled in his gut. He had tried to brush it off, convincing himself that she was fine, that she was just a human who had wandered off. But deep down, he felt a strange sense of responsibility for her safety, something he had never experienced before. He had used his heightened sense of smell to try and trace her steps and find out where she was

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ground, he fidgeted on the bench, glancing at his phone for the hundredth time. No messages. No calls. Just silence. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

He couldn't understand why he cared. She was just a human—flawed, complicated, and oh-so-vocal about how she felt. Still, something about her relentless spirit pulled at him. He found himself wanting to protect her, even though he didn't quite know how to express it.

After a few more agonizing moments, Walker's intuition kicked in, urging him to find her. He stood up, the decision igniting a determination within him. As he approached the café where he had last seen her, the flickering lights overhead did little to quell his rising unease.

Then, he spotted her.

Lena was cornered by a group of men, their laughter cruel as they encroached on her space. He felt a surge of anger course through him, the knot in his stomach tightening.

"Hey!" Walker shouted, striding toward them. The men turned, momentarily confused by his presence.

Walker seemed nervous for a second, unsure of how to approach without killing.

"Back off!" he demanded, his voice low and steady, but beneath it lay a current of rage.

Lena's wide eyes caught his, filled with panic and disbelief. "Walker, no!" she yelled, a warning that he didn't heed.

The largest man stepped forward, smirking. "What's this? Your boyfriend come to play prince charming?"

Walker's instincts kicked in; before he could think, he lunged at the man, swinging with a fury that surprised even him. The punch connected with a satisfying thud, but the victory was short-lived as the others jumped into the fray.

He fought back with a primal energy, each blow fueled by a mix of protectiveness and anger. It was chaos—fists flying, bodies colliding. Despite his strength, he felt his energy waning, each hit he absorbed taking its toll. But he couldn't back down, not while Lena was there, watching with fear in her eyes.

After a brutal exchange, Walker stood victorious, breathing heavily, the taste of blood in his mouth. The last of the men stumbled away, and Walker turned to Lena, who looked both relieved and shocked.

"Let's go," he said, trying to shake off the adrenaline, but the world felt hazy around him. They walked in silence, the tension thick between them.

Once they reached Lena's home, Walker felt the dizziness settle in. He glanced down at the blood staining his shirt, a reminder of the fight and the price of his actions.

"Walker, you're hurt." she said with her eyes filled with worry, her voice laced with concern.

"I told you I was fine," he muttered, but the weakness in his voice betrayed him.

"Sit down!" she ordered, and he reluctantly complied, sinking onto the couch as exhaustion washed over him.

As Walker sat on the couch, the warmth of his blood seeped through his fingers, pooling on the surface beneath him. The vibrant red stood out against the pale fabric, a haunting contrast that showed what he feared; fragility . He compared it to the raw strength he had always believed defined him. Each droplet seemed to carry the weight of a harsh reality, pooling around him without his permission.

He watched as the blood spread, glistening in the dim light, an unsettling yet captivating sight. It flowed freely, uninvited and unrestrained, as if it wanted to break free from the confines of his body, revealing a hidden part of himself he had long tried to deny. The warmth was both foreign and familiar, a feeling that left him strangely alive yet undeniably exposed. He didnt know what to do with this.

As the minutes ticked by, the blood began to cool, and with it came a stillness that wrapped around him, urging him to confront the turmoil beneath the surface. In that quiet moment, he felt a shift, as if the very essence of life had been laid bare before him. The realization tugged at the corners of his mind, hinting at a truth that he was not ready to face. The stark reality of his situation lay there, fluid and reminding him of the cost of his existence.

" Im.. bleeding"
He said softly, staring at the blood and rubbing it between his fingers slowly

Lena: What?

" It.. hurts me"
walker spoke softly, with a touch of weakness in his voice.

Lena hurried back, returning with a towel. She pressed it against his side, and he flinched, the pressure causing him to feel vulnerable—something he loathed.

"Thanks," he grunted, avoiding her gaze, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

"Walker..." she began, but he turned away, struggling to keep his defenses intact. The weight of the moment felt unbearable, filled with unspoken emotions that he wasn't ready to confront.

"Why did you run off like that?" he asked, his voice rough, trying to deflect.

"Oh, you were worried, huh?" she replied, a hint of teasing , but the tremor in her voice was evident.

"I couldn't let you get hurt," he snapped, the words escaping before he could hold them back. "You helped when I needed help. You needed help, so I helped."

The air shifted, tension crackling like electricity. For the first time, he found himself looking into her eyes—deep pools of emotion filled with confusion and understanding. But as soon as he realized what he was doing, he blinked and looked away, breaking the connection before it could deepen.

"Thank you for tending to my wounds," he muttered, the gratitude somewhat present in his tone.

"Walker..." she started again, but he cut her off with a grunt, too proud to acknowledge the warmth in his chest.

Thanks.
One word. All she managed to get out
And a small smile
Walker did not react to this, just with a simple nod.

As he sat there, bleeding and battered, a part of him began to wonder about the boundaries that had been crossed. She was human, and he was... a monster. The distance between them felt insurmountable, yet for the first time, he felt a sense of longing. Longing for what? He wasnt sure