Ch. 21
I awoke when the sun's rays shined on my face. Human again, I sat up and looked my naked body over. I had no blood on my hands, didn't see any spatters on my stomach or legs.
'Maybe I didn't attack her,' I thought, standing up and groaning at my sore muscles. So she's probably safe. But where is she?
My first guess was the apartment. I covered my junk and stepped out of the woods...
... And right onto a busy road.
People stuck in traffic honked their horns, stuck their heads out of their windows and whooped at me, a few girls tried to grab me as I walked by.
I knew my face was as red as can be when a girl popped her head out of the window in front of me and said, "Hey sexy fella. How much is underneath your hands?" She laughed and reached for me.
I jumped away quickly. "I've got a fiancée," I said, trying to shut her down and walk past her.
But she grabbed my arm tightly and jerked me back. She got a seductive grin on her face as she squeezed my biceps.
"Well she isn't here, is she? Leaving such a man outside on his own... Doesn't she know someone's gonna snatch you up?" she continued, reaching for my hands.
"I can take care of myself." I shook her off me and walked away quickly. I felt her hand brush against my skin and I sped up in my escape.
"Fuck you, fucking dick!" the girl screamed at me. I just kept up my speed walk towards my apartment.
Twenty people must've grabbed me before I found my apartment complex and got away from the road.
I hurried into my house, hands still covering my manhood, and yelled for Hannah. I felt violated and vulnerable and worried.
A few moments later, she came out of the bathroom and froze when she saw me. I quickly looked her over and didn't see any wounds. What a relief.
"Felix..?" she said, her eyes wide.
"I'm glad you're okay. I thought I hurt you," I explained, moving one hand from my crotch to pull her close into a hug.
I felt her hands rest on my chest as she snuggled up to me, before she gently pulled away. I tilted my head in confusion.
"Felix, what happened to you?" she asked, her voice laced with horror.
"What do you mean?" I asked. I didn't see anything on me.
"Your neck... You..." she uttered. I walked past her into the bathroom and looked myself in the mirror.
There, on my neck, my skin was missing a chunk. There was a small chunk of my flesh missing. There was blood around the wound, but not where it should've dripped.
"What . . . the fuck!?" I yelped. Both my hands went to my neck. The wound was numb and shallow. I wasn't losing a lot of blood. That calmed me down a bit, but how did it get there? What attacked me?
"Are you okay?" Hannah asked, sounding panicked.
I nodded. "I'm fine, we just need to stitch this up-well, a butterfly stitch will be good enough."
"Okay. I'll get some things to clean that wound with and the stitch stuff," she announced, then she left and I sat down on the toilet, waiting.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ooh, a guy being catcalled? It happens people, just like some men do it to women. It isn't fun for any of the victims.
