Help, I Need Somebody - Thursday, September 25th || Self Para
Cora stared at her alarm clock from her bed. 2:24 PM blinked red, and then changed to 2:25, queuing up the alarm Cora had set. She reached over and turned it off, and rolled out of her bed. So much for sleeping before her shift. Instead, she had just laid there and alternated between staring at her clock and her ceilingâneither was very interesting. Cora rubbed her hands over her face tiredly. Sure, she now took shifts off to âsleepâ, getting people off her back about working too hard, but it wasnât like she had done any sleeping. The last time she slept at all was four days ago, for two hours, before she dreamt of fire and ash and screams and woke up crying. Just like every time she tried to sleep. The only time she could get any sleep was when she had someone there to keep her sleep from becoming deep enough to have nightmares. But that wasnât often. So Cora just didnât sleep. And that was okay with her. Better to never sleep then to burn alive in her dreams.
She walked slowly to her closet, pulling out her clothes for the day, and shrugging them on briskly. She hadnât actually left that much time to get to the hospital, and her shift started at 2:40. Only a single shift today; sheâd promised Derek that she would cut back on her shifts a little, and she wouldâfor about a week, same as always, before he hopefully had other things to worry about. Grabbing an apple and her converse, she headed out the door, locking it behind her. Glad that no one was in the hallway but her, she hopped on one foot to get one shoe on, then the same for the other, all the while holding her apple in-between her teeth. She probably looked ridiculous. Shoes on, and apple in her hand, Cora checked the time on her phone, 2:29. Sheâd have to hurry if she wanted to get there on time.
Cora ran at a not-quite human pace down the hallway, before vaulting herself off the stairway, hoping no one was watching her inhuman actions. Whatever, she was in a hurry. She walked quickly out of her apartment lobby, waving to a few of her neighbors, and began jogging to the hospital. Isaac would definitely give her a hard time if she was late again. Narrowly dodging asshole drivers as she crossed the few streets between her crappy apartment and the hospital, she had finished eating the apple and tossed the core into one of the many sidewalk trashcans. Only a few blocks away, she slowed down, walking sedately. Cora grabbed her phone to check the time. 2:34. She would definitely make it on time.
Phone still in hand, she dialed Hunterâs number. Cora needed some time to relax and hang out with more people than just work people. Hunter didnât pick up, so Cora tried again. Still nothing. She was a little frustrated, but he did work at the LAFD and could be saving live, very important, so she supposed sheâd cut him a little slack. Cora left him a voicemail instead, letting him know that he was picking her up after her shift, and to not be late. Hunter would probably be late just to spite her, but if he picked her up in the â67 Impala all would be forgiven. She hung up after leaving her message, and tucked her phone back into her pocket.
Cora stopped in front of the hospital briefly, noticing that her shoe had come untied. Not a good thing when they could and have gotten got in wheelchairs and gurneys before. She knelt on the ground, out of the way of the entrance, slightly behind a few trees, and began to re-tie the laces. Cora heard footsteps coming from behind her, but didnât really think anything of it. It was LA, people walked places all the time. Without warning though, the footsteps became a body, and a body that had arms around her.
Cora whirled around, almost breaking free of the strong, though human arms that gripped her harshly. She opened her mouth, preparing to ask what the hell this guy thought he was doing, when one of his hands flew up to her face, shoving a dirty cloth down her throat, and holding another one over her nose. She gagged on the fabric, and unsuccessfully tugged herself away from her attacker, before she fell to the ground. She felt dizzy, and her eyes began to water from her aborted coughs. Cora tried to move her arms, her head, anything, but her body felt like lead, and she was easily manhandled until her attacker held the cloth over her face tighter than before. She had trouble breathing, and foolishly inhaled beneath the cloth. Wolfsbane. Coraâs eyes widened briefly, before they shut altogether, and she lay unconscious on the cement.
Cora didnât notice as she was lifted off the sidewalk, and loaded into a waiting van. Wolfsbane cloth still in her mouth, she was unconscious. She was unaware of the people in the van jeering at her body as they drove, of the perverted comments and suggestive gestures. She didnât feel the grubby hands over her body, and the hollers from the men. She was ignorant of how they found her phone, in her back pocket, and felt her up in their âattemptsâ to grab it. It, and her hope of calling for help, was thrown out of the window and onto the road below. Cora didnât wake as the road turned rougher, and the van skidded to a stop.
She remained unconscious as she was flipped over a hunterâs shoulder, one of his hands holding a flashlight, and the other her ass. The laughter of the other hunters as she was carried down sets of stairs went unnoticed by her, as did their entering a large, dark room. Cora was ruthlessly strapped to a cold metal fence with wolfsbane laced bindings, next to the unconscious, slumped form of her own brother, and still, she knew nothing. Her sweatshirt and top had been cut away carelessly, leaving cuts sluggishly bleeding down her half-naked body, unable to heal while she continued to inhale the wolfsbane from the cloth. Electrodes were glued to her skin by rough hands, eager, overzealous. Cora could not feel the low-level current already running through them, though she twitched in discomfort.
Cora could not see or hear the delicate, feminine hand turn the dial to the machine she was connected to. But they heard her screams.
Cora woke with a muffled scream, choking on the sodden cloth still in her mouth. Waves of electricity flooded her body, and she convulsed helplessly. She gagged, managing to expel the cloth from her throat, though she coughed violently still. The voltage increased, and Cora retched, vomiting thick black liquid in front of her. That⊠Wasnât a good sign. She bent over again, as much as she could with being restrained, coughing up more bile. Her bra and jeans were stained with blood, sweat, and black vomit. The wattage of the electricity died down a bit, and Cora could manage to stop throwing up, and lift up her head.
A smiling Kate Argent was in front of her. Kate Argent, the hunter who had slaughtered her family. Cora couldnât help but try to lunge at the huntress bitch, to make a mess of her pretty smiling face. But she was tied to the fence, and fell back uselessly onto the fence. In return, Argent turned up the voltage suddenly, and Cora screamed, her back arching and twitching as it was torn apart by pain. When the electricity had died back to a manageable level, she panted helplessly, shaking minutely as her muscles tried in vain to recover.
âBad dog,â Kate pouted, patting Cora on the cheek patronizingly. Cora tried to bite at it, but the huntress moved out of the way too quickly.
âNow, now, little Alpha.â
Alpha? But Derek was the Alpha, not her; she would only be an alpha if he died. And Derek was fine; he should be sleeping in his apartment by now. His shift would be over. Derek wouldnât have to see any of this, his baby sister being killed. Cora knew it was inevitable. She wasnât going to make it out of here. But she would fight.
âIf you donât behave, Iâll just have to go play with your brother. And you donât want that, do you?â Kate smirked victoriously, her eyes widening falsely, comically large and innocent.
Derek? No. No. No no no no no no no. Heâs supposed to be safe, in LA, with the pack. He was the Alpha... God, not Derek. Please, not Derek.Â
But there he was, on a section of fencing slightly adjacent to her own, so close she could stretch out her fingertips and brush his own. He was slumped over, unmoving, blood dripping from his temple, and she couldnât hear his heart over the thrumming of the electricity. Derek, he couldnât be, no, he was alive. Right? But she didnât know. Cora felt like she had been gutted. She felt her eyes widen, and she began straining against the bindings, unable to think past the mix of rage and grief she felt when she knew that he might be dead.
âDerek. Derek wake up. Derek, come on, please, please wake up,â Cora said, her voice hoarse from vomiting and the thought that Derek had been killed. âPlease Derek, come on, big brother, please wake up.â
Kate laughed, a cold, tinkling laugh that had dread pouring itself into Coraâs bones. âOh no,â Kate simpered. âHeâs not dead. Yet, anyway. How long heâs alive and the shape heâs in depends entirely on you. Are you going to play nice?â
And Cora felt every inch of fight drain out of her.
Please wake up Derek. You always know what to do.Â
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