devotion ➶ larry

one

They're coming for me.

Louis looks around at the empty field. He didn't know where he was. He let out a small whimper, looking down at the hole in his side. It was starting to hurt more. He limped across the field, his ears perking up when he heard the sound of a car driving in the highway up ahead.

He sped up his pace, huffing when the bullet wound throbbed. He held his hand against it, trying to stop the blood flow. He kept walking, hearing the sound of people shouting behind him.

His tail flicked in anticipation.

They're almost here.

He starts jogging, hissing at the pain in his side, content on making his way to the highway. He could see it now; the cars zooming by in small dots. God, he was so far away. And he was getting dizzy. He didn't dare to look down at the wound, afraid of what he would see.

He kept moving, his breath coming out in labored pants, mixing with the cold October air. He was so close now. He could see the the cars now. Suddenly, gunshots rang out and he lunged to the ground. He might be hurt but he was still as agile as a cat. Mainly because he was part cat.

He got up and ran behind a tree, taking a deep breath. He forced himself to calm down before he made himself run as fast as he could.

They're here. 

The gunshots started up again. The highway was right in front of him now. There were a few cars, zooming by, trying to get home from late night work or something.

He did the only sane thing he could think of in his condition.

He jumped in front of one of the upcoming cars.

The car came closer, the driver was an old woman. She saw him, her eyes wide, before slamming on the brakes. The car veered to a sharp stop inches from Louis' small frame. He let out a breath and ran to the passenger side.

"P-Please c-can you let me in? I-I am hurt." Louis choked out and the woman stared at him before nodding her head. Louis was so elated, he had to stop himself from jumping into her arms and kissing her.

He clambered into the seat, shutting the door behind him. She drove off before he had his seatbelt on. Louis turned around, seeing six silhouettes reaching the highway, guns in their hands.

****

They had been driving for less than thirty minutes when the woman pulled over. She turned and looked at him.

"What happened to you?" She asks, her voice soft and languid. Louis flinched away from her. He didn't trust her, although she had basically saved his life.

The adrenaline from escaping was seeping out of his veins, replacing it with cold dread.

The woman frowned and looked at the boy. Really looked at him.

He was small, maybe sixteen at the oldest. His hair was growing over his pale eyes, covering them from view. His clothes were worn and tattered, barely staying together. He was dirty, covered in dirt and mud and who knows what else. What stood out was the dark red liquid seeping out of his shirt and coating his hands.

Blood.

She panicked.

"I--" she didn't know what to do. He was a hybrid for Christ's sake. She's never met one before. From the news reports, she was told that hybrids were dangerous. That they were genetically damaged and could kill in cold blood.

She did the only logical thing she could do.

She turned on her car and dropped him off a block away from the nearest hospital, leaving the boy quickly behind. Louis shivered, his brown and white tail curling around him, shaking slightly.

Louis looked down at his wound, the blood had stopped, maybe because the bullet was still lodged inside of him. He limped down the block, the bright Red Cross a welcoming sign.

Louis kept moving until he was at the clear sliding doors. He barely had a foot in the door before he collapsed, his vision blurring.

He could faintly hear the doctors rushing over to him and then everything goes black.

****

The first thing Louis noticed was the sound of passing cars. He groaned, opening his eyes. His side hurt, and his head throbbed. He sat up, expecting to be in some type of hospital but instead he was met with the walls of an alley.

Louis furrowed his eyebrows, looking around. The alley smelled of rotten food and trash. There was a blue dumpster to his left and four bags of trash to his right. He scrunched up his nose, and moved to stand up. Hot pain hit his side and he looked down only to find his side bandaged up.

The hospital stitched him up...and threw him out. Like he was trash. Maybe he was.

He whimpered as he tried to stand up again and let out a pant before choosing to sit back on the ground. He was still wearing his tattered clothes. The only clothes that he's had for the past sixteen years. They were so ripped and worn out that they just looked like rags instead of actual clothing.

He looked around again and sighed, curling into himself. His side hurt and he was bloody freezing but he's learned to deal with this. His tail curled around him, the warm fur around his arms. His cat ears bent back in fear, trying to listen for any sound of danger.

The cold air nipped at his bare feet, turning his toes blue. His lips were cracked and chapped and he couldn't remember the last time he's eaten. He shivered as a gust of air flew into the alley.

But even here, freezing to death and a bullet wound in his side, he was still free from there.

And with that thought, he fell asleep on the cold floor, dreaming of city lights and freedom.

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First chapter !!!

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