The Life of Jezebel Firetongue

3

A/N****Y'all voted me already after only a few days? EEEE! I mean, I'm eternally grateful :) So here's my first update of the week, just for y'all.

He was dreaming. He had to be. There was no other explanation.

Clouds surrounded him, and in his tired state, he supposed they looked a little like a face – a woman's face. Her features were soft and beautiful, both fierce and sweet at the same time, and he found himself a little short of breath.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?”

Whirling around, he caught sight of a man approaching him. He couldn't make out the man’s face, only spotting a blurry smudge of balding head, glasses, and a long white lab coat. He looked calm and normal, and would pass for a regular doctor, albeit for one detail. His lips did not move when he spoke.

“Who are you?” Jake demanded, and found that his mouth did not move as well.

He surpassed his panic and continued on. “Who is she? Who am I? What’s going on?”

“Oh Jake…you don’t remember me,” the man said, shaking his head softly. “Well, it’s for the best. You will, in time, remember. Soon, I promise - but for now, I can answer most of your questions. Your name is Jake Flyte. And her?” he nodded at the face. “She’s a girl you will soon meet. You must stay with her, Jake. She is the key to regaining your memory," his voice was urgent, like he was begging Jake to understand. "You see, she –”

The man did not get a chance to continue, for at that moment, a loud sound reverberated across the space, and Jake felt the sky shake. The man simply nodded, as if it was a message, before turning and fixing Jake with a steely eye. “You must go, Jake,” he said, and his form was already disappearing into the mist. “We will see each other again soon.”

And then it was black.

Jake hated waking up, hated the disoriented feeling that came with it. So when he felt himself slipping into consciousness, he groaned, urging to fall back under the comfort of sleep. He felt like hands were grabbing at him, pulling at him to stay awake.

And then he realized that was probably because there were.

Jake's eyes shot open as he sat up with a start, fixing on a man's face merely inches from his own. Jake drew in a breath to scream, but suddenly hands were pushing him back. Falling to the ground again, he looked into the man's eyes right as his mouth growled, “Run.”

Jake scrambled to his feet, but for some reason his legs were refusing to move. He was like a deer caught in the headlights, terrified and rooted to the floor, staring at the gun leveled at his head in fright. “I said run, dammit!”

Finally regaining control of his legs, he turned and set off at a sprint down the mountain road. His breath came in short bursts, breathing in through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, giving him the extra strength and speed, and Jake thought he might be running faster than he ever had before.

Racing down the dirt path, he swung his head left and right, his brain scrambling to come up with an escape plan, but finding none. Jake felt his legs begin to burn and his lungs begin to sting with the icy air filling them. Chancing a look over his shoulder, he saw the man still trailing him, a look of pure rage on his face. He was gaining on him, Jake realized. And he wasn't sure if he could escape.

Jake sprinted around a corner, his muscles screaming and his heart pounding. He had to escape this man, had to, had to run faster, before –

He didn't have time to finish the thought.