Protecting Elijah

•Chapter 26• Restraints

Recap:

I open my hazy eyes, trying to catch my breath.

I suddenly make contact with not the caring eyes of my mate, but with the sight of a black van. It's heading straight towards the unmoving sports car, in which Elijah and I are sitting in.

It's moving fast. Really fast.

My eyes widen, and panic strikes me through my whole body. Wrapping around me like a body bag, I suddenly don't have enough time to warn Elijah, before I look down at his beautiful face one last time.

Smash

The black van, drives straight into the back of the car. Destroying the whole back. The car lurches forward, me. I'm not wearing a seat belt. Only having the protection of my mate's arms.

Smack

There goes my head off the dashboard, and Elijah's against the window.

Cries

Elijah's cries, screams of pain. The raw sobs, the pressure in my lungs, his lungs, our lungs. The moment we shared, now over. Black spots take over my vision. The same colour as the van that just burned a piece of ourselves, each other, what we could of had, what was waiting for us at the end. It's gone, it's withered away in the crash, the destruction.

Those voices, those same voices. There's doors slamming, cracking heard, growls, howls, sounds of victory.

The sounds of monsters.

A door is ripped open, but I'm not really sure if that's correct or not, simply because I'm on my way to unconsciousness.

My poor Elijah, he's a good man. He is. He doesn't deserve this, nor do I.

Those cries come back.

Cries, howls of pain. Complete, utter devastation.

Is it mine?

I can't tell.

I'm lost, I'm floating and I'm gone,

Straight into the darkness.

_______________________

•Chapter 26 • Restraints

I'm met with complete darkness.

My head is pounding, I feel like I'm on fire. Like little needles are poking around my whole body, all my senses coming alive, listening, focusing trying to find something, even taste.

Just a little taste A small voice snickers.

Just the little taste of blood in my mouth, the feel of it on my hands.

I know I have a gash in my head, I can just feel it, but at the same time I can't. I know it's there, but it doesn't feel like the wound it was before.

Maybe someone patched it up for me? Maybe they felt bad that I was half way near my death and didn't want me to bleed out. Maybe they wanted to torture me, before I died at their hands. Whoever they are.