Bitten

Ch 11: A Really Really Big Cat

Hazel POV

Blood. Blood everywhere.

I was drowning in it, screaming as pain ripped through my entire body, tears streaming down my face.

Everything hurt as I flailed, scratching out blindly trying to get away, choking on my own blood as I tried to scream for help.

Knowing there was none.

I was going to die.

~~

I woke screaming and sobbing with an unknown weight on top of me. "NO!" I shrieked, "HE-"

A hand clasped over my mouth, another one pinning my wrists above my head, "shut up!" The weight on top of me growl, "fuck you have been screaming for an hour shut the fuck up!"

I froze, realizing the weight was a person as two angry blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

I whimpered under his weight.

"Are you quite done?" He growled, his slight accent catching.

Russian? I nodded what little I could in his grasp. Still sobbing.

He let me go but didn't get off me, watching me as if prepared for an attack.

I continued to sob, reaching for my teddy bead and clutching onto it, crying into its fur.

Slowly he reached over and turned on the table side lamp, bathing us both in its soft glow, catching my attention through my tears.

I noticed two things first, first; his silvery hair bleeding into darker roots. Second; the red gash on his lip that was quickly healing.

He leaned back still straddling me, "I could hear you screaming several floors up."

"Th-thank you for waking me up." I sniffled.

His lip curled up in a sneer, "I didn't do it for you, I couldn't fucking sleep and no one else seemed inclined to wake you after a fucking hour."

"I.." I swallowed hard, hugging my bear to my chest, "I was having a nightmare."

"No shit Medvezhonok." He growled, eyeing my teddy bear with distaste. "what the fuck is wrong with you? You aren't six grow the hell up."

I felt myself begin to cry again, "I'm sorry I woke you up, I can't..." I sniffled, "I can't help it."

He just scoffed. "And pray tell what was so scary it was worth screaming in terror in the middle of the night?" His accent grew thicker with ire.

"My attack." I murmured quietly.

He paused eyeing me closely, "your attack?"

"That...changed me."

"Changeling." He stated more to himself than me.

"Of violent circumstance as my dad says."

He ignored my pathetic joke, "No wonder no one wanted to help you. how long ago?"