FicWad

Play: Still Breathing ~ Mayday Parade

I screamed, my throat stinging as the creature's claws cut into my back. Through my thick coat, through my shirt and scraping along the now exposed flesh. My hands clawed at the dirt, but to no avail. It was too heavy, it was exerting force onto my spine, and I heard a loud crack as one of my ribs snapped. I prayed that none of the vital organs had gone. My eyes ran, and dirt flicked into them, my sight gone for now. I thought this was the end, and gave up fighting, lying limply and hoping that it would finish me off quickly, my face being pushed into the ground as my oxygen was cut off. Ursula, I'll be with you soon.

And a sudden feeling of weightlessness. I could breathe. Still face down in the dirt, I clicked my ribs back in place, and straightened my spine back out. Painful, but necessary. I got up slowly, my muscles aching. Scarlet red shone in the moon light, and I glanced over at Zane, covered in blood. He was fine, it wasn't his blood. He'd grabbed what ever it was, and promptly tried to tear it's throat out before it disappeared. Breathing rapid, he called over.

All right?

He threw the thought at me across the space, and it hit me gently. His eerie green eyes glanced behind me, and I felt Valentine's strong arms help me to my feet. I still felt strange, like my legs weren't attached to my body any more, but they were, solid and strong and making me stand. Valentine was much stronger than I, though. My brothers, both of them. Not in the literal sense, of course, we bared not even a family resemblence.

Zane was tall, muscled, green eyed, his dark hair marked with a single white stripe. It complimented him, he dressed excellently and I was jealous, in some ways. Valentine was the polar opposite, blonde, brown eyed, tame looking, but just as strong as Zane and in some respects stronger. Morally, for instance. He was primarily the good soul of our little clan, he refused to drink from humans. And there I was, face down in the mud whilst my older brothers fought my battles for me. I wasn't any where near as strong, and didn't see myself as that handsome either, shorter and more slight, with my short, choppy hair cut.

I could see Zane notice something, just that tiny sound, or scent in the air.

Two females, two males.

We stared at him, for instruction.

Stand your ground. They're curious, not dangerous.

Nodding, myself and Valentine stood neutrally, seeing pale faces on the edges of the clearing. They walked slowly forward, nervous of us. I glared at Zane, standing casually with his clothes drenched in blood. Yes, because that's not looking dodgy at all... The males were both in protective stances between us and the females, not in an effort to scare us, but be ready if anything happened.

"We heard a disturbance, we were worried." One of the males said, and the female behind him walked forward, so that we could see her face clearly. He knew she was there, and kept her behind him, a hand reaching around her waist so that she stayed firmly against his back, and not an inch infront of him. I could see, they were together, she didn't react adversely, indeed she placed a hand on his upper arm, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I heard screaming... Mentally..." she muttered, staring at me, her eyes wide. She was spooked, scared. I nodded, and turned to show her the deep holes and lacerations left in my back, my coat a mess of bloody tatters. Instantly her eyes shifted to Zane. The other female had drifted forward, but wouldn't let her protector hold her back. She was smaller than the other, her hair shorter. Her eyes too were wide, and her face pale.

"Logan, he'll die." she said abruptly, a look of horrible sadness in her eyes. "Take them back, we have room, we can make room. Please, Logan..."

"Calm down, calm down. What's the matter, Belle?" he asked, and she answered, her eyes sparkling.

"That looks like a werewolf attack, okay?" she managed to choke, before breaking down into tears. The other male put an arm around her, trying to comfort her, but she slapped it away, and headed back into the shadows, her hair obscuring her face. Logan glared at him, and then muttered,

"Go after her, don't leave her on her own, there are lycanthropes around." As the other man left he turned to us, still a little suspicious, but slightly more forgiving. "Make yourselves known, then."

Zane stepped forward, in true theatrical fashion, a beaming smile, under the circumstances.

"Zane Lockhart of London. My, well... Brothers in arms, Valentine Francis and Caine Breedlove."

"Zane Lockhart, Vampiric Prince?" Logan frowned, guessing. Zane nodded back at him, and he smiled at Lucretia. She frowned, confused. "He's some what like a member of the royal family, a descendant of Vikram."

Lucretia nodded once, still staring at my bother with a little suspicion. She turned her gaze to me, and walked forward. Her protector tried to stop her, but she reassured him, a quick glance and he let her go. She peered at me with her sympathetic eyes, nearer and nearer, and then walked around me to look at the bloody mess that was my back. We all stood stock still, trying not to raise her caution any more than necessary.

"Can I..?" she asked quietly, reaching a hand forward, needing to lift the tatters of my coat. I nodded, and she did so, pressing gently at a hole near my ribs, staring at the thick, black, inky blood that was now on the tips of her pale white fingers. "Mhmm, werewolf attack."

I glanced around, all I saw were grave faces. I gulped for air, the thought hitting me, making my chest feel tight again. If my body couldn't fight this, I was going to die. My head spun a little, and I swayed slightly.

"Do you think you can walk back? It's not far." she said quietly, and my head turned quickly to look at her. Her hand gripped my shoulder, steadying me. Before I could answer, she turned to Zane and said firmly, "Help him, I'll lead the way."