Bestial

Homecoming

Tord stood in front of the door, almost afraid. He'd been standing there for at least five minutes, not yet willing to knock. Finally he worked up the courage, but he didn't have to.

The door opened seconds after he closed his hand into a fist to knock on the hardwood. The sudden swing of the door caused Tord to step back almost nervously, looking away.

"What do you want?" Tom snapped. Tord bared his teeth instinctively, silvery eyes narrowed.

"Thanks for the warm welcome, jackass." he shot back. "Can I come in?"

Tom grumbled something inaudible, but stepped aside anyway. Tord crossed the threshold, fidgeting with his hands. He looked around, then turned to face Tom.

"Where is everyone?" he asked. Tom shrugged; at the moment, he was alone in the house, save for Tord of course. Making his way to the couch, he sat down.

"Edd's getting groceries, Matt's...who knows. Why are you even here?" the eyeless man said, arching a brow suspiciously. "You've been gone for who cares how long, and then you just show up?"

Tord leaned against the back of the couch, frowning. He was careful to cover his right wrist. No reason to disclose that information to Tom just yet. The man wanted to talk to Edd first, anyway.

"Can't I pay a visit to my friends?" he hissed. Tom curled his lip.

"Not your friend." he breathed. Tord snorted.

"I didn't say you."

Tom couldn't help the small smile that worked its way onto his face. Even after so long, they could fall into a familiar, pseudo-aggressive banter. "Really, though. Why are you here?"

Tord shifted uncomfortably, swallowing thickly. "I wasn't sure where else to go - actually, you...being you might be able to help." He slowly reached to shift the sleeve of his right arm up. Tom sat forward a little, confused. He was about to say something when he realized what he was looking at.

Tord's right wrist was scarred, but not in the way he'd expected - there was a distinct line of puncture wounds, that looked disturbingly like teeth marks. His eyes widened.

"Holy shit." he said, reaching out to take Tord's wrist in his hand and better examine it. "What did this?"

The Norwegian man looked away, perhaps a little ashamed. "Not sure. Some sort of big dog, or a wolf maybe? I don't remember exactly what I saw."

Tom paled a little, but quickly covered up his fear. "Damn. Does it hurt?" He gave Tord's wrist a small squeeze, running his thumb over the bite.

Tord flinched, growling deep in his throat. "Yes, it does! Stop that." He snarled, wrenching his wrist out of Tom's grip. The other man shrugged, sitting back on the couch.

"Then its infected." he said nonchalantly. "You're infected." His words came out so casually, despite their weight. Clearly he knew something Tord didn't, and that alone was a scary thought. Tord stepped away from the couch a little, nervous.

"What are you talking about," he asked, tilting his head a little. "What do you mean, infected?"

Tom shrugged, grabbing the remote and flipping through television channels. "Think about it, Tord, we both know you're not stupid. What bit you?"

The Norwegian man sat down on the back of the couch, staring absently at his wrist. He had an idea, now. "Oh."

Tom glanced over. "Edd and Matt are home. Cover that up, and when you start to turn, get out of this house or I'll skin you myself."

He went back to watching television, and Tord felt a chill run down his spine. He knew Tom was just as aggressive as he, but the nonchalant, relaxed tone of voice gave him pause.

Maybe Tord had made a mistake coming here.