ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ

Lucid dream

[Y/N P.O.V]

Leaving the building, we hit the sand, the sticky feeling on my leg unsettling me. Plonking down, I peeled the beige fabric down, unsurprised to see a bite mark deep within my skin. Sighing, I ran my fingers through my hair, Thomas giving me a sympathetic look.

"I'll be fine", I sniffed, "there's only a 50 per cent chance I'm not immune".

"Yeah, but, Y/N what if...", he trailed off, unearthing a bandage from his rucksack with a sigh. 

Kneeling down, he gently wrapped it around my wound, being sure to not irritate it. I gave him a grateful smile as he finished up, tying the bandage off and pulling my cargo pant back down while he examined the rest of me. Tenderly, he wiped his thumb over the small cut on my forehead, my cheek resting on his palm. I brought my hand up to his, holding it softly and dragging it down, lacing our fingers. 

"We have to find the others", I spoke, "They can't be too far from here". 

He nodded, "you're right, we better look for a sign of life". 

I took a quick breath in, searching over the sandy wasteland, "that might be harder than we think".

*

Wandering through the city, the low thump of music drew us to the centre of the town, people bursting from various buildings. One man was laughing hysterically, drinking a blue liquid, a label stretched across it read 'the bliss'. It wasn't hard to tell he was a turning crank yet he looked... somewhat healthy. Making eye contact with me, he winked, raising the vile and chugging the rest of it. Thomas nudged my elbow, snapping me from my trance. 

"You okay?", he asked

"Yeah...", I swallowed, glancing back to find the man had disappeared.

"Just keep your head down, remember, Wicked is still looking for us", he murmured, leading the way to the building, "don't cause a scene". 

"You're telling me that", I remarked, earning an eye roll.

Looking about for Janson and his crew, a drawing in the sand caught my attention. Two circles, one bigger than the other, inside of each other next to an arrow marking the way to a large house.

"Thomas", I tugged on his sleeve, pointing to the picture.

Relief flooded his features, head snapping from me to the image, "no way".

With hope-filled veins, we stormed towards the busiest structure, party-goers dancing in their drunken ways, hair a matted mess against their heads. Reaching the entrance, all attention was on us, a wealthy looking guy greeting people at the door. Upon seeing us, he grinned like the Cheshire cat, wrinkles showing his age. He patted Thomas on the shoulder, giggling with a twinkle in his eye. 

"Well, what brings this beautiful couple to my party, eh?", he croaked, pupils dilated. 

"I- were-not", Thomas stuttered.

"We're looking for our friends", I got to the point, Thomas' cheeks tainted pink, "a fairly large group, 3 girls, one of them with dark hair and a crossbow, the rest boys. Have you seen them?".

He tapped his chin with a stubby finger, nail riddled with dirt, "you know what? I think they're inside". 

"Thanks, we'll just head-", Thomas was shoved back by a tall blonde woman, her grimy hand lingering on his chest. I instantly glared at her, the pounding of jealousy entering my head. 

"Ah, ah, ah", the host scolded, "you have to pay first".

"We don't have any money", I frowned.

"No, no, no, not money", he shook his head, producing a glass of light green liquid.