||Zombie Au|| I wish there was another way out...
They were already upon her before she knew it...
The stupidity, the realization that she should have left the cat to bleed out by herself, it sunk in deep within her, leaving a trail of curse words fall from her lips. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered, it was done. This world taught her many things, survival of the fittest. Why save a dying feline? Did her life require that much meaning that she would put her neck on the line for something as trivial as a stranger. She didn’t owe this girl anything. Not a damn thing. And yet, her hands were moving before she could stop them.
She slit her palms, running her fingers down a dusty old blanket, smothering her scent on the fabric. There was no time to get her out, there wasn’t even time for the wolf herself to get out. Instead, she shoved the wounded cat in the closet, tossing the blanket on top of her person. Shushing her angrily when she tried to protest. There wasn’t no way she would allow her to succumb to what might happen. She had to hide. “Wait here... and no matter what you hear, don’t leave, don’t move. If I see so much of a twitch I will put a fucking bullet in your leg do you fuckin’ understand me?!” Her words were shaking, something she didn’t naturally possess. But she had no choice.
She closed the closet door on her, hiding any and all traces of the cat in the room. Lights shone through the windows, and the idle roar of an engine burned holes into her ears. It was only a matter of seconds before the doors opened, the room flooding with scents and voices she was all to familiar with. She held the weapon in her hand, the only piece of him she had with her before she started swinging. Slashing at anyone that dared to get close to that closet. Blood flew, splashing the white tinge of her cheeks, staining the pale contours of her skin tone which only paled as time went on. She felt a hand grab at her arm, another against her other, she growled thrashing against them. Digging her claws into them. She felt the force of something against her head, something sharp digging into her flesh. She screeched, her legs buckling underneath her. She dropped to the floor, blood trailing down her forehead, parting against the bridge of her nose.
Her fingers were going numb, the machete being wrenched from her grasp. She growled, snapping forward, her legs thrashing, kicking whoever she could reach. Things were starting to go blurry, her vision was becoming more distorted by the second. A hold got taken on her chin, forcing her eyes to focus on the individual in front of her, kneeling down, familiar gaze glaring down. She felt sick to her stomach.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” his voice was soft, almost a whisper. She glared hard, blood that was falling against her lips she spit at him, growling all the same.
“Fuck you.”
The last thing she remembered, was another blow to the back of her head, the nightmare of him, and everything that was going on went back. And a hiss of demands was the last thing to echo through the small shed.
“Get her in the truck. If this bitch, and the older fucker of a brother isn’t going to make the whelp cooperate... Well... We will just have to kill them both now won’t we.”
