Disclaimer: It's fanfiction.
It is late afternoon, and you're running in the park again. You're struggling to keep up the pace, and your breath comes in huffs and puffs. You probably haven't yet reached the runner's high. You know, that easy feeling, that euphoria you're supposed to get after a long time of running? Your substitute P.E. teacher mentioned it the other day. She said that it had something to do with endorphins being released into your bloodstream. That's pretty much all you remember about it. That, and the fact that she was pretty hot. Would she be coming back?
You stop at a corner, near a bench, panting. You know you shouldn't sit down, but you do it anyway. Screw the runner's high. What do teachers know, right? You lean back and relax. You listen to the constant thrum of cars speeding down the road behind you. It's loud, really loud, but it's better than listening to your mom and dad screaming at each other again. That stuff gets old really fast.
You're not sure what they were screaming about that time. You were in your room when it started, minding your own business, as usual. Playing DotA. You were using the Bloodseeker. Strigwer. Strygwr. Strigwyr. Whatever his name was. You were losing again. But it wasn't your fault. They didn't let you solo. They should have ganked when you pinged. And they never called MIA! What was up with that? So you screamed at your screen and cussed the hell out of your dumb-as-shit teammates. (Cussed. Isn't it a cool word?)
Then you heard your mom's voice. You rolled your eyes. You knew what was coming. Wait for it, wait for it, there you go, dad's voice. It was getting louder. You sighed. You knew from experience that turning up the volume of your game would only make them come into your room and scream at you. So you rage-quit. Serves your team right anyway. Suck shit, losers. ALT-QQ.
You crept down the hallway and put on your running shoes. You had figured this out long ago. When they start their thing, you go out running. Maybe get some food. By the time you get back, they're done, one in the room, one watching TV. Easy. They don't even ask where you go. You doubt they even noticed you leave.
You blink. It's getting pretty late. The wind's getting chillier. The sky looks really red when you glance at it. Dark red. Almost like blood. Whoa, where did that thought come from? Strange. You shake your head and get up. Time to run home. You didn't even get to buy food. Sitting down was a really bad idea.
You take one step, and suddenly, pain shoots up your leg. You fall down with a yelp. What the hell was that? You sit up against the side of the bench. You grab your leg and bend down to look at it. There was nothing wrong that you could see. Maybe you ran just a bit too much. Maybe you should have done some stretching first. Yeah, that was probably it. Limber up, and all that.
You push yourself up and the pain comes back. But it's not just your leg this time. Your whole body feels like it's on fire. Every nerve, searing in agony. Pain. The world fades into a blur.
The next thing you realize is that you're on your back. Staring up at the sky. It's red, blood-red, and it's trickling down to your face, your chest, your legs. Your whole body still feels like it's burning, but you can't move. It'd hurt more if you did, you just know it. You take a deep breath and call for help. At least you try to.
"Help! Someone! Please!" That would be what you would sound like if everything was normal. But it wasn't. Your words come out as a croak. You can barely hear yourself. You start hyperventilating. It makes your chest hurt more, but you can't help it. What's wrong? What's wrong? Your eyes move wildly. It's about the only part of your body you can control.
Something comes above you, obstructing your view of the sky. It's a person. You can't make out his features. But you don't really care what he looks like right now. "Call an ambulance," you try to say, but he can't hear you either. He crouches down to you, probably to check what's wrong. Good, maybe he can hear you better.
As soon as he's close, you take a look at your rescuer. Then your heart stops for a moment. It wasn't a man. Its face was covered in white fur. Its nose was wide. Its mouth was closed, and two long tusks extended from his jaw to his red, red eyes. What…What the fuck? You scream and jerk away, but the pain locks your limbs in place and keeps your throat closed. There's nothing you can do but stare at the monster.
Now that it's closer, you notice that the monster has wounds all over it. Big, gaping wounds. Red blood is trickling all over it, staining its white fur. It raises a huge arm to you. There were claws extending from its knuckles. You scrabble back, whimpering. You hope it doesn't kill you. Please. Please.
It places its hand on your stomach. Then it drags it up to your chest. Slowly. You prepare yourself for even more pain, but strangely, you don't feel anything more than the burning feeling you're starting to get used to. It raises its hand. The hand is covered in blood. Strange. You're sure it wasn't like that before. The monster then places its hand on a large wound on its chest. It rubs its hand along the wound.
Suddenly, the wound starts to heal. You stare as the flesh begins to knit itself closed. Once it does close, white fur starts growing where the wound once was, till all traces of the wound disappear. The monster starts to laugh. It starts as a deep rumble in its chest then bursts out in guttural bursts. It reaches down to you again.
Something snaps in your mind. You look down at yourself, lying prone on the ground. You're covered in red, red blood. Your blood. You watch as the monster scoops up some of it and paste it on itself. Another of its wounds closes. You begin to laugh. It's weak, and your throat clenches in pain, but you keep laughing. Tears start trickling down your eyes. It was Strygwyr. Bloodseeker. From that little game you used to play, lifetimes ago. He came for you. Your laughter turn to screams.
You open your eyes slowly. Everything is white. Glaringly so. Where are you? Are you dead? Was this heaven? Could God turn down the lights a bit, please?
"…call the nurses!"
You hear things moving all around you. Voices. They sound almost familiar. Your vision starts to sharpen. Colours appear and start to form into shapes. That dark blob there on your left, that's your mom. Her eyes are red from crying. Your dad's there on your right. He's more stoic, but his eyes are a bit red too. You're lying flat in a hospital bed. An IV's attached to your wrist. There's a white light right above your eyes. You'll remember to tell the nurses to turn it down later.
"Mom…Dad?" Your voice sounds raspy and weak, but at least there's no pain anymore. Mom takes hold of your hand. Her grip's like a vice. Dad places his hand on your shoulder. You smile faintly.
Dad explains that you were in a car accident. Some idiot driver, probably drunk, went over the sidewalk and into the park. Smashed right into where you were sitting. "After the police are done with him," Dad continues, his hand gripping your shoulder tighter and tighter, "I'm going to sue his ass to the ground!"
"Dear," Mom reaches over you and touches your dad's arm. "Not right now." She then smoothes your hair back from your brow and kisses it a couple of times. "You've been out for a whole month. Gave us quite a scare."
The two of them keep talking. You smile as your eyes close slowly. Eventually, a nurse enters to shoo your parents out of the room. Before they leave, you ask them to turn down the lights. There, much better. You drift off to sleep.
When you wake up, you see the Bloodseeker standing next to your bed. You try to scream, but your throat tightens up in familiar pain. The monster pushes you down to the bed with a clawed hand. It put its face close to yours. It spoke. "They tried to take you away from me." Its voice was deep and gravelly and terrible.
It stands back up but keeps one arm on your chest. It raises its other arm high in the air. A small plastic tube is connected to it. You follow the tube with your eyes as it coils and coils. The other end is at your wrist. Red, red blood seeps from your arm. It trickles into the coils of the tube, circling, circling, till it reaches the Bloodseeker. "I'm back. And you're mine now. Mine, forever."
"NO!" You scream and sit up. You wonder, for an instant, how you're able to speak and move again, but only for an instant. You rip off the IV from your wrist. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" The Bloodseeker watches impassively.
The door slams open, and a couple of nurses rush in. They grab hold of your arms and legs and push you down to the bed. One of them walks up to the Bloodseeker and passes right through him. Right through him. How did she do that? Then you feel a sharp pain in your wrist. One of the nurses is replacing the IV there. What? Why? Why would they let it take your blood?
"Stop, please!" You struggle harder, but you can't seem to break their hold. The red trickles out of your wrist again, curling lazily through the tube. "Don't! Don't give him my blood! NOT MY BLOOD! NOT MY BLOOD!"