The Protectors

Chapter 12

Hey guys!

It's been like four months since I updated. Sorry 😁 I've been superrrrr busy.

Thank you for all your continues support.

I was thinking about abandoning the story, but your support changed my mind.

It's a really short chapter, but I wanted to get the ball rolling again.

Again, thank you all so much. Your support made all of this happen.

So, once again,

Vote, comment, and most importantly,

Enjoy!

•Chapter 12•

I sprint as fast as I can to the infirmary. People passing by ask me why I am in such a rush, but by the time I get to answer them, they are already gone.

Is he dead? I shudder.

Please don't be dead.

Everything in my vision is blurry as I skid to a stop. My mother comes out with a grave expression.

"Emity?"

"Is he going to be alright?"

She sighs. "It depends on what you mean by 'alright'."

"Is he dead?"

"Oh, certainly not." She laughs a little. "His wound isn't fatal, but it is definitely severe. I'm afraid he'll probably be in a wheelchair for about a year. He has to be careful, though, or he may never walk again."

Thank the Lord above. He's alive. I feel like I'm going to cry years of joy.

"Can I see him?"

She sighs. "Not quite yet. He still needs time to recover, the poor boy. He's lost a lot of blood. In a couple days, I can let you in." She smiles.

I give her the tightest hug I've ever given anyway. You'd think I was a child who got a new toy for Christmas.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!"

"Calm down," she says with a smile. "You've got a lot of work on your hands in the meantime."

"How did you-"

"Trust me." She lays her hand on my shoulder. "News travels fast around here."

Well, shoot. I blush.

I wonder what else she's heard.

"Now go, shoo." She brushes me away. "Before you get yourself into any more trouble."

I give her another endless round of thanks, and hurry down the corridor to my dorm. I can't wait to tell Melanie all of this.

As I past, I get the strangest looks. Maybe it's the huge gash on my cheek? I don't know. I ignore them as I jog past.

I finally reach the dorm room and unlock the door.

"Melanie! You'll never believe what happen-"

She's not there.

I look around. It's past curfew, she should be here.

She's not on the bed. She's not in the bathroom. She's not in the closet.

On second thought, why would she be in the closet?

I shrug to myself and keep looking. Not under the bed, not behind the door, not by the-

I stop and stare at the nightstand.

The lamp has red splatters on its beige shade. There's red on the floor, the phone is knocked over, and glass from the lightbulb covers the area surrounding the lamp.

What the-

I look around. There are other thugs out of place- the normally perfect bed sheets sprawled on the floor, a water glass spilled.

A note on the door.

I step closer. It's hard to read at first.

I can barely make out the handwriting. But what I see infuriates me beyond normality.

"Come to the train station if you value your roommate's pitiful life. We throw her over at 10."

I get even more furious when I read the named sloppily scrawled at the bottom.

-Cristian