FicWad

“Daddy? Where’s mommy? She said she’d play tea party with me.”
“She’s at work, sweetie,” Gerard answered, putting down the leg rest on the recliner and standing up to pick up his five-year-old. “But I’ll play tea party. As long as I don’t have to wear a skirt this time.”
Alyssa giggled and climbed up onto Gerard’s shoulders, directing him like a horse into her bedroom, squealing out encouragements as he ducked under the doorways and made unnecessary trips through the hallways and around furniture.
Gerard cleared his throat and sat up in the dark, touching his stomach as he woke up. His fingers came back wet.
“Dammit…,” he growled. He’d been shot. Multiple times.
He stood up and groaned; his head felt like lead, not painful, just heavy. There was a cold numbness trickling down his temple. They’d shot him in his head as well.
“Jesus…,” he muttered, pressing his palm over the wound.
Some people, if they came across other people sleeping in a place they were interested in, would just kill them and take over. It was for their own safety; who knew if the people would attack them while they rested, or if they were even mentally sound at all.
Gerard looked around, watching for signs that the survivors were still around. His eyes locked onto something in the shadows. He could see perfectly. It was a group of two men and a young woman. They were huddled in the corner, watching him.
They started whispering frantically, reaching for their rifles propped up and loaded next to them.
Gerard stood and stretched, yawning.
“G’night,” he mumbled, picking up his belongings and jumping from the ledge, back into the street, not even bothering to bandage the injuries. He had better things to do than terrorize an unfortunate group of mislead humans.
Okay, well, maybe he didn’t. But he wasn’t like that. People’s distress wasn’t something that fueled his enjoyment. Not anymore.
He wasn’t at danger in the dark; in fact, exactly the opposite. He could see everything. Every movement behind broken windows and every stifled exhale of breath.
He swallowed, shedding his clothing behind a rock and leaving it by his bag. He most likely wouldn’t be seeing it again. He shivered, slinking down toward the earth and changing into a more comfortable form. His mind buzzed. No headache. There never was.
He looked toward the ground. There was already dirt in his paws. He would’ve sighed if it were physically possible at the moment, and trudged on down the street.
He had places to go.