Bullet, risk, groan, ignore, absence
Oliver groaned as he tried to sit up. A sharp pain hit him. He tried to ignore it. He sat up and the pain raced back down through him. He lay back down. It hurt worse than he thought.
He’d never been shot before. He’d never been beaten to a pulp. He’d never been left for dead. And all three had happened in what was the worst afternoon of his life. He’d taken a foolish risk trying to tail the Hargreaves brother. He’d never do that again.
Now that he looked around he realized he was surrounded by fluffy pillows and thick covers. There was a window open to let in some cool air, but was now just cold. Very cold. He finally noticed he absence of any clothing other than a pair of underwear. What the heck? And they didn’t even look like his.
He struggled to remember. He was with Anaximander. He remembered a mysterious doctor pulling the bullet out of him. As Anaximander was whispering in his ear. “I’ll heal you.” There had been a short pinch to his neck. Teeth. A warm sensation flooded his body. He word “Thrall,” echoed around in his head.
Oliver took a deep breath, determined to sit up again. His throat was parched. His bladder was full. He decided the latter had priority. He winced and yelped in pain this time but pushed through it to get his feet to the floor. He stood up just as the door swung open.
“You must be careful,” it was the vampire Anaximander. “Your situation is delicate.”
copyright 2021 Echo Ishii