I Saved The Alpha. (Watty Awards 2012)

Stabbed or Shot?

ALLY

I was rushed down what seemed like a million different hallways and corridors, through hundreds of different doors, or it may have just been three.  I wasn't sure, nothing made sense anymore, and everything surrounding me and my little bubble was a blur.  Luke had been shot. 

Luke had been shot.

Shot.

No matter how many times I played over his words in my head, they didn't make sense.

Who would shoot Luke? 

Who would want to hurt him?

Was it on purpose?

Obviously it was on purpose, otherwise they wouldn't have scouts out searching for the culprit.  That was one of the only things said that had slipped through my protective walls of throughts.

I think it was safe to say, I was in shock.  Appalled.  Astonished.  Bewildered. No, those were too soft of words.  More like mortified, frustrated, angry.  I could feel the warmth of Lily's hand on my arm, guiding me along after the scrambling pack members.  I felt each breath that I slowly took in, and shakily let out.  I could sense the slivers of rememberance of the pain that had once dotted my abdomen, but they were just bare whispers of what I had once felt.  Of what Luke had felt.

I felt Lily's hand squeeze my arm lightly as I was jarred to a stop, right in front of an oak door, with a large sign across the front saying 'No Admittance'  She reached for the door handle and twisted it slowly.

I guess we were going in.

The pull in the center of my chest increased until it was unbareable amd I stumbled forward into the room. 

It was a hospital room.  A big one.  The walls were that excrutiating white colour that always blinded the residing patients, decorated with blue trim, and oak flooring.  There was no windows, I suppose that was to keep whoever was living in this room safe from invaders.  Smart, I suppose.  My eyes kept darting away from the bed against my will.  They refused to focus on what I knew would be waiting to greet me.

I studied the far wall, covered in stainless steel shelves and trays frull of IV bags and utensils.  Utensils that should have been a clean silver colour.  They weren't.  They were red.  I almost threw up at just that sight. The smell of the room wasn't much help, it was so heavily doused in chemicals and cleaning ingredients that each inhalation felt like I was breathing fire.

Then, movement near the bed caught my eye.  The bed itself was white, and settled against the wall in the middle of the room.  To the right of the bed was a man, dressed in pale jeans, a white-turned-red dress shirt, and a pale, drawn, horrified face.  Next to him was a scrambling man who was furiously writing things down on a clip board, his face stiff anf unreadable.  I'm guessing that was the doctor.

Lily gave me a firm shove forward, and I stumbled in his direction, alerting him of my appearance.

"Oh, Alpha Ally, I wish we might have met under more... positive conditions," he mumbled, holding his hand out.  I stared at it for a moment, before judging it useless and finally turning to face my worst nightmare.

Nestled beneath a thin sheet on the bed, was a blood spattered, pale, sprawled out Luke.

"Luke," I whispered, my mouth parting in horror.  His shirt had been ripped open, and tossed on the floor where it lay soaking in it's own pool of blood.  His chest was splattered in red liquid, in streams that lead down.  Straight down.  Right to his abdomen.  "Is he..."