Hunting Ravens

Pineapples In My Head

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling, I snuggle further into my bed to find it drenched in sweat. Sighing I begin to hear my phone ring. Despite the unwelcome feel of cold sweat in the morning, it's better than answering my superior, first thing in the morning. I lay still until I hear the notification to say I've been left a voicemail. I kick the sheets off in frustration as my phone immediately starts to begin its incessant clamouring again. I notice it's Trevor and switch it to silent to halt the infuriating noise. Phones have never been my thing, and the noise that comes with them, it's just that, absolute useless and mind aching noise.

I make my way to the bathroom to wash off the grimy and oily feel of my skin. As I pass the mirror I catch a glimpse of the sunken cheeks and dark shadows beneath my green eyes that currently compliment my oval face. I set a mental reminder to put on a full face today to mask my dilapidated state. I continue to stare at my body in the harsh light of the full length mirror beside the vanity and begin to loose grasp on whatever task I set out to do before. My thick hair clings to the sweat that rolls down my forehead, the black strands wildly contrasting with my snowy skin. The soft lines of muscle remind me of the intense late night gym sessions. I unconsciously hold my arm to my swollen chest, tracing the long and jagged scar that runs vertically up my arm that left scar tissue deep and near to the bone. I turn from the mirror in disgust and drown myself in an ice cold shower.

As the TV runs in the background of a news anchor reporting on the latest murder in the downtown sector, The Acre, I check the weather updates on my kitchen tablet installed into the wall beside my fridge. Freak lightening storm, interesting. Killed power from the centre of The Acre to a surrounding area of 2km... How precise. I grimace at the obvious meddling of the government and their off the books operations. I search the cupboard for a glass, fill it with water and throw back the concoction of PTSD, anxiety and pain medication. After rinsing the glass and placing it in the dishwasher for Lacy to finish up, when she comes to clean the house today, I decide it would be best to finally go and check my phone. Unplugging it from the charge, I almost wish I hadn't gotten up this morning. 6 missed calls and 13 messages greet me, all consisting of some form of threat and urgent badgering.
- Raven, come into work immediately.
- Bellsore, answer your phone ASAP
- Raven Bellsore. If I find you alive, you won't be much longer when you come in this morning.
The usual friendly greeting from my co-workers. I skim over the rest, all similar to the others, until I reach the last message from Ben, my boss.
- Possible break in the truce. Zone 3.

My mind begins to whir with the possibility, my body begins to shake with an adrenalin fuelled fear. I race to the living room, shove my mobile into my bag with the rest of my medication, snatch my car keys off the side of the counter and head to my car. As I open the driver side door, I notice my reflection for the second time today, a ghostly look haunts my face. My stomach roils with apprehension as I speed out of the driveway.

***
Hunter

With a sharp pain, I awake to two emerald green orbs of vivid beauty. That's what my addled state describes them as anyway. I can feel the lack of blood within my body, knife wounds do that to you. Apparently I hadn't woken up enough as another sharp pain slashes across my cheek. I blink a few times in an attempt to regain vision in my left eye, to realise that the green orbs are in fact the owners to a very beautiful woman. Fairly sure I've lost a decent amount of my body's blood supply; I shake my head, chanting the mantra, lack of blood, lack of blood, lack of blood, in an attempt to concentrate on the situation at hand. Doc, I need Doc. The need and urgency that now fills my mind automatically has my trying to sit up and move. The same slender hand that slapped me into consciousness from a dark abyss of unconsciousness, from the same undeniably beautiful woman, has now settled itself firmly in the centre of my chest as she silently forces me to remain still with those fierce green eyes. I grumble in protest and am replied with rolling emerald eyes. What an attitude! I like it...