Emergence ~ Split

Chapter Eight

Casey tightly held her eyes closed. Feeling the soaking puddle of her brain under her skull, as it swelled deeper into a soggy mess. She squinted past the pain as she felt the leaking contents of her head drain out.

Her fingers were numb as she lightly tapped the tips of her fingers together, feeling the familiar trace of scars in her palms. She lifted up the heavy weight of her head, feeling the sticky pull of her hair tighten around her neck.

She took in a deep breath, raising her up hands to push against the soft surface underneath her, hissing in pain as she felt a sharp pain along her forearm.

With a whine she opened her eyes, blinking back the darkness of the dimly lit room. A scratching sound of fabric followed her movements as she sat up to stare at her aching arm.

Thick bandages were suffocating her forearm, she hesitantly peeled back at the layer. Finding small flecks of red scars that splattered deeply under her skin. The bone felt weak as she twister her wrist to expect the underside of her arm, feeling its loose resistance, she didn't attempt to push it any further.

Her eyes caught a pair of a big combat boots on the floor next to her, slowly pressing down the bandage as she trailed her eyes up along the familiar jean clad legs, stopping before reaching the hollow sockets of his eyes. Instead focusing on the thick jacket collar stuffed under his head.

Casey quickly pushed the sheets away from her legs and swung them over the edge of the bed, weakly testing her body, wincing in preparation for the hot burn on her bitten calf as she stood, but instead just felt the push against tired muscles. She tugged up the loose hospital pants to inspect her leg.

The skin was taught, but still together, not marks or scars. Casey began to panic wondering how long she had been asleep, long enough for her body to heal completely.

She could feel the cold shiver of guilt run through her body as she remembered Dennis's pleading voice. The weight of the gun, too heavy to forget. She bit her lip to hold back the threatening tears.

She wondered if Dennis still remained cold on the floor or if someone went to him. Helped him. She sat back on the bed, dropping her head in her hands, worrying even more if he killed someone out of blind rage. The Beast pushing through and ripping into anyone that got in his way.

She released a stressed breath and felt the warm splash of tears in her hand, she wiped it away quickly, and wrapped her arms around her chest, holding onto herself and thanking the heavens for the chance to still be alive.

She looked across the room, staring out the window as daylight began to peek out through the windows, a cool morning air swept up as the breezed tangled through her hair. It had been too long since the last time she saw the sun. She smiled softly at the sight, before feeling her chest tighten again as she remember Dennis's pleading voice for her to kill him. Her hands were shaking at the thought.

She stiffened as she heard Uncle John fidget awake from his sleep, with a curse on the tip of his tongue, before he noticed the girl. "Casey." He sat up straight, even fumbled to his feet. He clamped his hands together, nervously watching Casey as he approached her.

Casey looked away from him, rubbing away her tears and straightening her shoulders, before standing and facing her Uncle.

He met her eyes, swallowing back a cough. "You feel okay enough to stand? I mean, you were nearly a piece of fresh meat for the bugs." He said with a hesitant chuckle.

Casey nodded quipping her lips slightly. "I'm okay." Her voice was dry, rough and scratchy.

"How about some water?" He offered, moving over to pour water into a tiny plastic cup. His hands were shaking as he held it out to her.