Mark of the Moon

Chapter 9 - Similarities

Chapter 9: Similarities

  There was rustling, and I found myself waking up for the second time today by something other than my own accord. My eyes opened lazily, only for enough time to confirm that I was still inside the yellow tunnel, and then drifted shut again. I wasn't ready to wake up yet. 

  There was more rustling and I stirred, pulling the hood of my sweatshirt closer around my head in attempt to keep warmth in my cocoon. "Go away..." I mumbled into the soft material that encased my face. The familiar sound of shoes lightly clanging on the metal bars leading to the entrance of the tunnel closest of my face grew closer. Through my closed eyelids a soft glare of light, cutting through the darkness of the night which had fallen upon me without notice.

  Something touched my shoulder giving me a shake lightly, "Sam," someone whispered, I was too drowsy to make out the exact tone, but they sounded slightly worried. I groaned and stirred again, but didn't open my mouth.

  A sigh of relief brought a rush of warm air across my face; whoever's breath smelled sweet like peppermint. "Yeah...call off the rest of the search party, I found her," their low voice sounded in a whisper, relief of practically seeping from their voice. The click of a button snapped back into place and the person settled themselves next to me in the tunnel. "You scared me..." the whisper was followed by a nervous chuckle.

  My mind wanted to open my eyes in curiosity of who it was, but my body wouldn't allow it, sleep was too important even if I knew I'd never be able to sleep with the strange presence beside me.

  "We need to get you out of here," he finally muttered, I had decided the voice was too low to ever be a woman's, and it rang with recognition that I couldn't place. Gently hands coaxed me out of the rounded off tunnel, and the cold night air bit into my skin. "Its fine," he shushed me as I started shivering, protesting.

  Instead of being led to the ground, I was gently lowered into his arms. The warmth and woody smell was intoxicating in my state of consciousness I curled up against his chest, the strong arms of his holding me tightly there. I relaxed into whoever's hold, the feeling of total safety was appealing, something I hadn't felt in quite awhile. Biting my lip, so the thought of the last time I had been picked up like this, from my father, wouldn't make me cry, because was probably the last. Even though he tried his best to take care of me, sometimes people needed the constant comfort of a normal family, both parents full time.

  He kept on murmuring soft coos in my ear and I found myself lulled back into a sleep, safely tucked in his arms. Somewhere in my subconscious it identified the voice, and I'm sure I would have jerked away at the thought, but I couldn't help myself as I whispered, "Tristan?"

  I couldn't have been asleep all that long; because I knew instantly that it was still dark outside when I opened my eyes. My attention was crisp this time, as if I had been shot up with adrenaline-who knew sleeping could be so energizing? 

  The smell was familiar, yet unfamiliar for the situation I was in, my head resting on a pillow, and I was covered in a layer of black satin sheets. The room was dark, but not so much as I couldn't see the outline of everything in the room from the reflection of the moon in the window. Everything was illuminated a calm pale white.

  This wasn't my room.

  Sitting up hesitantly, I looked around further, seeing the large room in full. It was simple, the décor a basic black palette. Only a few pieces of scattered furniture neatly placed around the room, in a tedious manner.