𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ➵ 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐠

【ＣＨＡＰＴ ５】

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FIVE||

PRESENT DAY
LONDON, ENGLAND

The times your bed feels the comfiest is when you know you have to leave it.

I smack the alarm clock into silence, forcing myself out of the warmth and comfort.

Snoring echoes from the corner of the room and that brings a smile to my face, sitting up in bed to see Pip still asleep.

Her bed is slightly too small for her large body, her back paws hanging over the edge of the cushion.

I smile contentedly at the sight of her fur moving as she exhales, her ears twitching from the breeze coming in through the open window.

I leave her be and shut the window, quickly getting ready due to the amount of sleep I've had. I'd rather have extra sleep than extra time getting ready.

The boiling kettle drowns out my thoughts, and it must've woken Pip up as I hear her paws hitting the wooden floor, galloping into the kitchen.

"Hey girl. . ." I crouch and rub her head with both hands, avoiding her unpleasant licks.

I rub my hand along the side of her perfectly white coat, smoothing down any sticky-up hairs.

She follows me as I grab my coffee cup and keys, unlocking the door to leave.

Pip cocks her head at me, looking at me with her best puppy dog eyes.

"I'm sorry, baby, you can't come." I pout at her dejected expression, waving goodbye as I lock the door behind me.

Briskly walking to the train station, I find myself barely getting there in time. I hop on just as the doors begin to close, my blazer almost getting caught.

I take a sip of my coffee and scrunch my face up in disgust; I forgot to add sugar. It'll have to do.

I'll tell my boss it was Pip's fault.

Oh yes, sorry boss, my dog made me late with her cuteness.

Valid excuse, I think.

I see people glance at my formal attire, a plain black suit; fitted pants, white blouse, black blazer and thick-heeled shoes.

I'd be damned if in my thousands of years alive I ever learned how to walk in stilettos.

I've had to move cities every decade or so, because people start to get suspicious when they get wrinkles and you don't.

But wherever I've gone, I've had a dog at my side. They're no longer called wolves, as they once were at some early point in my life.

And now there's no one to stop me having one.

The lights in the carriage flicker.

I look up in confusion. There's uneasiness settling in the pit of my stomach.

Something's wrong.

Everyone else seems unbothered by the lights the first time, but then it happens again.

The train enters a tunnel, blocking any light from the windows. And then the lights flicker again, staying off and plunging every inch of the carriage into darkness.

There are murmurs of concern floating around, people wanting to know what's causing this.

My eyes flicker to black and return to their usual colour in a split second.

I gulp down the overwhelming feeling of anxiety and tap my fingers against the top of my thigh. I can sense that there's something wrong.

Whenever I've felt this feeling in the past, I've branched my mind out to the person who could settle it.

If I did so in this moment, I'm not one hundred percent sure I'd get a response.

Maybe I should-

The carriage is tossed to the side as soon as we exit the tunnel, sending the entire train hurling off the tracks.

People shriek and hold onto anything they can reach as the train twists and rolls down a hill.

My head smacks off a metal pole, and already I feel a drop of blood swelling up in the cut.

I grasp the pole and close my eyes, focusing all of my energy into stopping this, quite literal, train wreck.

Blackness swirls around my finger tips and irises, and the train successfully comes to a stop at the bottom of the hill as softly as if we had landed on a pillow.

People come to their senses, worriedly exchanging cries about their injuries.

I'm the only one left standing, but people soon enough come to their feet and start smashing windows to get out of the vehicle.

I shortly follow them, accidentally slicing my fingers on the broken glass.

"Shit. . ." I mutter, watching the deep red drip from my palms.

"Did that have something to do with you?" A man accuses me, finger pointing.

I scrunch up my face, "What are you talking about?"

"The train just happens to get derailed and you," he snarls, "Are the only one left standing, looking untouched with your coffee still intact."

I'm just glad these people don't know who I really am, because then there would be more fingers pointed in my direction.

Everyone's eyes are on the interaction between me and the man, and luckily enough they all seem disbelieving in the accuser.

"You're insane, man." I shake my head, showing him my injured palms and forehead, "I got injured, just like the rest of you."

He wipes some dirt from his forehead, "Whatever, bitch."

He begins to walk away, cursing in a whisper.

My eyes flash black.

I push it down.

He's not worth a second of my time.

Whilst everyone recollects themselves to recover from the shock, I locate the train driver. He's sat, leaning against the train carcas, eyes set on the grass in front of him.

There's a weird look in his eyes.

I approach him cautiously,"Sir?"

He doesn't acknowledge my presence, but seems to be muttering something under his breath.

"Do you know what caused-" he snaps his head in my direction, but doesn't seem to be looking at me, "Sir. . . Are you alright?"

And that's when I hear the large growl echoing from the top of the hill.

And then the words the man is repeating are finally audible,

"It's going to kill us."

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A/N; spice. Action spice, not like the I want Druig in my room spice

~💋