Jasper x reader

An Army

A man leaving a building. He appears to be on his way home. A light sprinkle of rain, nothing new in Seattle.

The man attempts to cover up his face with his collar, not having much luck. He closes his jacket, and walks forward.

Taking a shortcut in the back of an alleyway, he passes dumpsters in the nighttime. He is in a hurry, probably trying to avoid the rain that is steadily getting heavier.

Crossing the street, about to enter another alley, he is tackled down, a figure of impossible speed and strength being the culprit.

He turns over, dropping his bag in the process. He looks up, not seeing much as the onslaught of rain impedes his vision.

The figure suddenly disappears, leaving the man in question, in a state of confusion.

Panic soon comes upon his face as he hauls himself up, looking around for a threat.

"Who's there?" His voice is barely audible above the rain.

He repeats his question louder, becoming frightened.

A hand grabs him by the throat, and he is thrown against a far away wall.

This time in real pain, he groans out as he attempts to get up, not succeeding as well as he did the first time.

He manages while holding his stomach, feeling something seriously wrong with it. He has scratches on his face, and cold from the rain is starting to set in.

He sees a window with people in it, and runs for it, screaming for help. He almost makes it away. A blurry figure once again appears out of nowhere, stopping him in his tracks. He slides and starts to run in the opposite direction of people, unknowingly dooming himself.

He runs as fast as he can, still clinging to hope he can outrun whatever this is, and make it home safely. He looks back every now and then, his breath coming in hard and fast.

He makes it to a pier, and is debating whether the water will give him the escape he needs. Or if he even has the guts to jump.

He steps down, and looks everywhere behind him. In every direction he can. The rain is still pouring. He can't see much. He is scared for his life.

"What do you want?" he screams out, feeling trapped.

The figure once again runs out, and the sound of ripping flesh is heard. He yells out, and looks down to see a massive gash on his hand. Blood mixes with the water, and it stings.

He thought at first that it was the rain causing the burn. But after a few seconds, it gradually got worse. So bad that he screams and falls to his knees. Before long, he is sprawled out on the ground, the pain unbearable.

He even gets to the point of wanting it all to end. He spasms on the ground, any other threat out there long forgotten. The only thing on his mind is the pain, and what could possibly bring it to an end. How long it would last. What it meant.

And why.

His screams get louder and louder, but no one can hear over the storm and distance. Looking back down, he realizes that it was not a cut, but a bite mark on his hand, just below his thumb.

The pain travels up his arm, and throughout his entire body. Agonizing screams rip from his throat as he arches his back. Nothing helps.