Two Years After
Opening my eyes to a new day, I seek to find out where I am. Once again, I'm unsure. I don't know because I don't remember closing my eyes and drifting away.
I seem to be in a small room, cheaply covered by a lower middle class single man or woman (but I presume male since it is quite a mess) who was no where in sight.
There was no one, there seemed to be nothing close enough breathing. I get up from my state of confusion and try to walk, to no avail since my legs felt like jelly. I stumble, I fall, muttering a few choice curse words that never seem to burn my tongue like any good Christian member of the Church.
It was morning and the sun peeked through the window, I tried to touch it but the flesh on my hand responded viciously. I check the bed where I lay moments ago for my piece of jewelry that was the only item in my possession at all times. There was nothing but sweat and a few drops of blood (not mine, I checked) on it.
Someone fucking stole my ring.
I made my way outside, in desperate search of my ring. I still felt weak and my face was stretching internally, which could only mean my eyes were turning red and there were veins popping out of the skin beside them. I grunted, I was so weak, I felt like dying.
Then I heard a bang. It was sharp, a pop, but it was something a human ear wouldn't be able to hear. A gun with a silencer, two rooms away. The gun had taken a life as I heard a body drop right after. I try my best to get to the door, hoping the assailant would come this way, because no matter who he was, I was going to have him.
Three minutes in, and there was no sound but footsteps and the quick snatching of items. I was tempted to go out myself, but seeing as I was only wearing a man's shirtsleeve and underwear.. well, let's just say I still had an image to protect.
The body was coming this way, the blood in my veins was boiling. It was jumping out of my skin as I desperately tried to haul it all in. The figure held the door knob as I waited right beside it, and as the door flung open I saw her eyes.
Those blue eyes that rattled my very existence, even after my transformation. It seemed odd how she had her hair in a ponytail with her bangs sticking out. I assumed she was a thief, and maybe she was, since she stole something of mine long ago and failed to return it, I guess that was the point of stealing. She pointed her gun under my chin, but easily let go when her eyes met mine. I gave away a look of sadness, and my blood had stopped moving.
In fact, time had stopped moving as well.
Tears were welling up in her eyes as I retrieved the gun from the floor and gave it back. She needed it, but certainly not with me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and began inspecting her physical stature. After all, it had been two years since I last saw her, and I guess the look of awe in her eyes explains why.
She'd grown older, that was certainly an inevitability. She also had no experience with holding a gun, and I wonder how she became a detective in a short amount of time. She had a white trench coat on, black buttons, black out lace. It was very elegant, and her hair was neatly tied up, as I've said. Her square features seem to have sharpened ever since that last time I saw her. She was trembling as our hands connected, and I walked away to add mystery to the deathly air that surrounded us now.
"I'm glad you're doing well." I say, watch her eyes move to the couch behind me, and realize that I wasn't wearing any pants.
How the hell did I not notice that there was someone there? Her heart should've beat louder than a muffled gun shot.
"I'm glad you are too." She retaliates, making her way out.
All I could do was watch her leave.
I seem to be in a small room, cheaply covered by a lower middle class single man or woman (but I presume male since it is quite a mess) who was no where in sight.
There was no one, there seemed to be nothing close enough breathing. I get up from my state of confusion and try to walk, to no avail since my legs felt like jelly. I stumble, I fall, muttering a few choice curse words that never seem to burn my tongue like any good Christian member of the Church.
It was morning and the sun peeked through the window, I tried to touch it but the flesh on my hand responded viciously. I check the bed where I lay moments ago for my piece of jewelry that was the only item in my possession at all times. There was nothing but sweat and a few drops of blood (not mine, I checked) on it.
Someone fucking stole my ring.
I made my way outside, in desperate search of my ring. I still felt weak and my face was stretching internally, which could only mean my eyes were turning red and there were veins popping out of the skin beside them. I grunted, I was so weak, I felt like dying.
Then I heard a bang. It was sharp, a pop, but it was something a human ear wouldn't be able to hear. A gun with a silencer, two rooms away. The gun had taken a life as I heard a body drop right after. I try my best to get to the door, hoping the assailant would come this way, because no matter who he was, I was going to have him.
Three minutes in, and there was no sound but footsteps and the quick snatching of items. I was tempted to go out myself, but seeing as I was only wearing a man's shirtsleeve and underwear.. well, let's just say I still had an image to protect.
The body was coming this way, the blood in my veins was boiling. It was jumping out of my skin as I desperately tried to haul it all in. The figure held the door knob as I waited right beside it, and as the door flung open I saw her eyes.
Those blue eyes that rattled my very existence, even after my transformation. It seemed odd how she had her hair in a ponytail with her bangs sticking out. I assumed she was a thief, and maybe she was, since she stole something of mine long ago and failed to return it, I guess that was the point of stealing. She pointed her gun under my chin, but easily let go when her eyes met mine. I gave away a look of sadness, and my blood had stopped moving.
In fact, time had stopped moving as well.
Tears were welling up in her eyes as I retrieved the gun from the floor and gave it back. She needed it, but certainly not with me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and began inspecting her physical stature. After all, it had been two years since I last saw her, and I guess the look of awe in her eyes explains why.
She'd grown older, that was certainly an inevitability. She also had no experience with holding a gun, and I wonder how she became a detective in a short amount of time. She had a white trench coat on, black buttons, black out lace. It was very elegant, and her hair was neatly tied up, as I've said. Her square features seem to have sharpened ever since that last time I saw her. She was trembling as our hands connected, and I walked away to add mystery to the deathly air that surrounded us now.
"I'm glad you're doing well." I say, watch her eyes move to the couch behind me, and realize that I wasn't wearing any pants.
How the hell did I not notice that there was someone there? Her heart should've beat louder than a muffled gun shot.
"I'm glad you are too." She retaliates, making her way out.
All I could do was watch her leave.