Predator: Cityhunter

Chapter 7

The apartment they broke into was nearly identical to hers. Whoever lived here before, she could tell by the scattered items littering the bed and bathroom counter, left in a hurry. Hurrying over to the kitchen area, Tamara slipped off her one shoe as she found a bowl and some towels. Pressing the buttons on the sink, she waited for the water to warm. With a bowl of now hot water, she turned to see Kian still standing with his mask on in the middle of the room.

"Kian?" She whispered, unsure of what he was thinking. The blank evil eye shields of his intimidating mask gave only the impression of immanent death to anyone who looked at it.

"Why were you out there, human?" The harsh ragged words to his whispering voice made her wince.

Was he upset with her? She couldn't tell. He could just be angry about the injuries all over his body, she considered. Dropping her gaze to the jagged rip in his flesh on his flank, she shifted her weight from one foot to another with antsy tension.

"I-I heard the commander say he injured the perpetrator, you," she clarified, "and I-I..." she wasn't sure what to say because even she didn't know fully why she left the saftey of her apartment. But she could hardly take the time to focus on that now and sort out her thoughts and reasonings, the gash on his flank was still bleeding quite badly and all she wanted to do was somehow stop it. "Please Kian, please sit. You're bleeding so b-badly."

He said nothing as he lowered himself to the ground, just like he did the first time he barged into her apartment.

Relieved he was complying, she came over to him and grabbed a pillow off the bed and knelt on top of it next to him. Watching him, she waited as he grabbed the small medical kit from somewhere on his back armor and opened it on the floor in front of him. With each movement, his bloody lacerated hands left bright green marks behind.

"I c-can clean it first," she offered as she dipped the towel in the hot water and wrung it out.

Kian said nothing, he just sat there. The only movement coming from the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He kept his mask on, a fact that she realized highly bothered her. The mask wasn't just a barrier between them, it made him the exact image he tried to portray to all of his prey--an imposing killing god. It shocked her to realize she missed the ghastly inhuman face beneath with the small beady bright green eyes.

Wiping the blood from the wound, she gave an audible wince at the bright blood that oozed out even more with her every touch.

"What sh-should I do...I'm n-not sure..." The words were getting stuck on her tongue as she stared worriedly at the large gash. How were they going to fix this? The tiny staple gun couldn't even begin to fix this.

Ignoring her flustered worry, Kian pulled out a small circular device. Leaning forward she watched as one bloodied, clawed finger pressed the center button on the device. With a startling pop, the device opened much like a satellite dish and a flame burst to life in the middle. Taking out some phials, he began pouring them into the flaming bowl until he made a bright blue substance. Frowning at its chunky almost magma like consistency, Tamara watched him stir the incredibly hot gunk together. Setting the bowl with the boiling substance aside, Kian raised both hands to his mask and then stopped. Lowering his arms, he lifted his head a bit and looked at her, or she assumed the unlit eyes of his mask were looking at her.

"Take off my mask," he whispered the command.

Stunned, she sat frozen for a few seconds staring back him. Seeing no movement or anything to indicate he was not serious she hesitantly nodded and leaned forward. "I'll try," she offered doubtfully.