I Am Tabitha Bleu

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Tabitha

      Tabitha let out an audible growl, but Grimm didn’t seem at all phased by her sound of anguish.

     “Well? Daddy’s waiting,” he sing-songed. Tabitha’s eyes narrowed into an amber-glazed glare and her pale hand lifted to the same height as her chest, all her fingers folded down except for her longest one. Grimm stiffened, “Tabitha! That’s very unlady-like of you!”

     “Does it look like I care, Grimm? Please, tell me I care.”

     “So mean to Daddy…”

     “For the last time, you aren’t my dad,” Tabitha groaned, her eyes rolling as she she crossed her arms. He sighed softly and frowned before taking a seat in the black computer chair behind his lavish desk. The smell of worn out leather filled the room for a moment, mixed with Grimm’s aftershave, an aroma of mint and rosemary. Once the scents hit Tabitha’s nose, she scrunched it up. The odor of drying blood overwhelmed the pleasant fragrances.

      She turned, walking out without another word. She needed to shower and clean the wounds sustained by the damn lycanthrope. Her platinum hair fell into her eyes, but she could walk the hallways of Reaper Inc. blindfolded. Though, something was…off. The atmosphere was different, heavier, even, and that’s saying something as she was literally in the house of death.

      Shaking her head, she simply played it off as an overactive imagination due to exhaustion. Her hand pushed open the door to her room, which was nothing special. She’d gotten it painted as a child to a tranquil blue, her favorite color. It was small, no bigger than three meters squared. As well as being small, it was relatively empty, holding a black bookshelf that came to her hip, a twin sized bed with a white coverlet, and a simple desk, the same, deep mahogany as Grimm’s. It was her most recent birthday gift.

     She closed her door behind her, slipping out of her ruined clothing and tossing the items into the wastebasket of silver wire. She walked to the furthest door from the entrance, opening it and revealing a rather small bathroom, having just a walk in shower, a toilet, and a sink with a vanity. Her hands turned the shower on numbly, stepping in without a care. She wouldn’t know if the water was too cold, or if it was too hot. She just had to make sure she was clean.

     Once done, she wrapped her injuries with gauze sprayed with disinfectant, and then sealed them with bandages against her skin. She had secured a towel around her petite torso of muscle, and upon feeling enough time had passed for her to dry, she walked out. However, something was very wrong with what she saw. A man sat upon her bed, wearing a smug smirk.

    “Nice rack, girlie. May I touch?”