BLOODSPORT

Chapter 2: The Changed

Tora Tsar woke with an inexplicable hunger. A hunger that tore at her insides: It clawed at her stomach attempting to escape, itched its way up her throat in an attempt to flee, burned her lungs and set every organ in her body alight. Her brain felt as though it was imploding in on itself, and her gums, oh how her gums ached; razor sharp teeth piercing through the flesh of her mouth.

She could feel the emptiness of her veins which had been drained. She could feel the new blood her heart pumped start to slowly fill them, drop by drop.

But what stood out to her most, more than her hunger or pain, was the heartbeat of another in the room. 

And she wanted more than anything she had ever desired before, to rip it out and devour it.

So she did.

The doctor who previously looked at her successful transformation in pride crumpled to the ground before she could even open her mouth to scream.

The Changed were supposed to be weak. Scared.

Tora was not. She was hungry. And now, with muscle and tissue clinging to her gums, her teeth gnashing against one another and blood dripping from her fingers and face, she knew how to satiate that hunger.

Alarms were suddenly blaring in the facility. Red flashing lights bouncing off the walls and making the crimson scene bloodier. 

Tora bolted for the door before it could be locked with her still inside. She tore it off its hinges and grabbed the closest guard. She tore into his neck, nearly ripping his head off his shoulders. She continued down the hall. Two doctors dead. The third guard. A fourth. 

It didn't end until Tora stood in a hallway devoid of life. Bodies crumpled at her feet, limbs contorted at odd angles. All of them with a their throats ripped out. Their chests had become empty, gaping cavities as well. There was blood everywhere, most of it on Tora and in her previously empty veins.

Tora almost made it out of the facility before she had been tranquilized. Her body fell in a heap to the floor, resembling those of the deceased around her. 

Two men completely dressed in black approached her body, another man slowly trailing behind them. By the third mans dress, it was clear he was someone important; he wore a crisp grey suite, a red silk scarf tucked into his breast pocket and a coffin shaped  broach, with multiple overlapping V's and three blood drops. (as pictured above)

"The Changling was able to do this all herself?" The seemingly powerful man asked.

"According to the CCTV footage, and the information I received from the guards before their com's went dead, she did, yes."

"Hmm. Makes me wonder if she is actually powerful enough to take down an entire field office of highly trained officials, or if the people my family thought to be highly capable, were in fact, not." He took a look around him, adjusting his tie as he did so. "Anyways, lets get this over with. Show her to me."

The men in black stepped aside allowing the man to see Toras sedated body. When they did so, and the man caught sight of her, something in him immediately snapped.

He threw the other men to the side and gently picked her body up, cradling her close to his chest.

"Sir?" one man asked, confused by his strange behavior.

"Have someone prepare her a room and a change of clothes back at the manor. Tell the king and queen to meet me in my office upon arrival. Also, send me the footage of what occurred here tonight. I want to know exactly what happened and who exactly this woman is. Jones, hand me your jacket."

The man, Jones, quickly discarded his jacket to the man who proceeded to drape it over Toras sleeping body. "Yes, sir. I will have Ferraro send it to you immediately."

With a curt nod the man sped past the men in black using his accelerated speed to get himself and Tora to the car he had arrived in. He placed the woman next to him in the backseat before gesturing for the driver to leave. 

Most of the drive back to the manor was silent. The driver occasionally looked in his rear-view mirror, sneaking glances at the sleeping woman beside his master.

"Just speak what is on your mind, Reginald. If you keep looking back, I may have to snap your neck." The gruff voice of the man resonated throughout the silent car.

Reginald cleared his throat before catching his masters eyes in the mirror.

"Who is the misses, if I may ask?" His voice shook with withheld nerves.

The man looked at the woman before sighing and looking back to Reginald.

"My mate."

Word Count: 805