Post by Spencer Danger Yule on Dec 31, 2013 2:05:49 GMT -5
Spencer awoke to the worst amount of pain and the worst hangover he had ever had in his life. He yelled out as his body stretched, yearning to fight the feeling of moving his muscles. He gasped for air as sweat rolled down his forehead. Fever. Infection...Infection.
The dark haired man's eyes popped open as he remembered the night previous' events. He had gone out and drunk himself into a stupor, found himself stumbling aimlessly within the dark forest and was attacked by wolves...by...werewolves. The bite on Spencer's shoulder began to throb as his heart began to race in panic, his already quickened breathing turning into deathly-sounding wheezes. He had been bitten. Which meant come the next full moon, he would be cursed as well. Oh god. Oh god. He was a monster.
He screamed out in agony again, this time for both his position in life as well as the pain coursing through his battered body. He was covered in dirt, sweat and blood. Spencer was dying from his wounds and he found himself partially relieved that he would not have to bear this awful curse for long.
But then a face danced into his mind. Katharine. He was dying and all he could think about was leaving Kat behind. She would be devastated, but he prayed she would find a cure and give it to Rosie for him. Rosie. His baby sister.
She had found him in the woods and returned him home, attempting to dress his wounds which had now become infected and lethal. She had done her best, this wasn't her fault. Nothing was ever her fault. He loved her so much.
He cried out, his hand clenching the bloody sheets to which he hissed at the pain. He closed his eyes and imagined a happy place, a soothing place. The beach. The beach, Kat was there beside him on a towel, smiling and laughing. She occasionally kissed him, something that they had shared on their first date. In his happy place, Rosie was still young. She was so innocent. The tender age of six. She was playing in the sand, making castles with the surrounding shells and twigs.
Spencer was sorry he wouldn't be able to say good-bye. But it was better to die human, than to die a wolf. Then he heard a knock that stopped halfway before the front door creaked open. The intruder would be shocked to find the front door ajar, Rosie having forgotten to close it on her way out. A trail of blood leading to Spencer's bedroom only to find the dying man in all of his gory glory laying in bed, helpless.
He opened his eyes slowly, gasping for air. When he saw the beautiful face of the familiar blonde, he shut them closed again and tried to form words. "Kat...go."
The dark haired man's eyes popped open as he remembered the night previous' events. He had gone out and drunk himself into a stupor, found himself stumbling aimlessly within the dark forest and was attacked by wolves...by...werewolves. The bite on Spencer's shoulder began to throb as his heart began to race in panic, his already quickened breathing turning into deathly-sounding wheezes. He had been bitten. Which meant come the next full moon, he would be cursed as well. Oh god. Oh god. He was a monster.
He screamed out in agony again, this time for both his position in life as well as the pain coursing through his battered body. He was covered in dirt, sweat and blood. Spencer was dying from his wounds and he found himself partially relieved that he would not have to bear this awful curse for long.
But then a face danced into his mind. Katharine. He was dying and all he could think about was leaving Kat behind. She would be devastated, but he prayed she would find a cure and give it to Rosie for him. Rosie. His baby sister.
She had found him in the woods and returned him home, attempting to dress his wounds which had now become infected and lethal. She had done her best, this wasn't her fault. Nothing was ever her fault. He loved her so much.
He cried out, his hand clenching the bloody sheets to which he hissed at the pain. He closed his eyes and imagined a happy place, a soothing place. The beach. The beach, Kat was there beside him on a towel, smiling and laughing. She occasionally kissed him, something that they had shared on their first date. In his happy place, Rosie was still young. She was so innocent. The tender age of six. She was playing in the sand, making castles with the surrounding shells and twigs.
Spencer was sorry he wouldn't be able to say good-bye. But it was better to die human, than to die a wolf. Then he heard a knock that stopped halfway before the front door creaked open. The intruder would be shocked to find the front door ajar, Rosie having forgotten to close it on her way out. A trail of blood leading to Spencer's bedroom only to find the dying man in all of his gory glory laying in bed, helpless.
He opened his eyes slowly, gasping for air. When he saw the beautiful face of the familiar blonde, he shut them closed again and tried to form words. "Kat...go."