"I think she's dead."
"She can't be dead, she's clearly still breathing, moron."
"It's been a week now, I think it is safe to say that even if she was still breathing she can be dead."
"That doesn't even make any sense."
"Death doesn't have to make sense!"
My eyes were closed but I could suddenly hear two voices bickering back and forth begin to register. As I was able to hear their voices, I was also able to start to feel again and my entire body was exceptionally sore and my eyes felt like a million tons were weighing them down. It was like I was slowly emerging from this dense fog and stepping into the light.
I groaned as I attempted to open my eyes from my coma-esque state of sleep, the pair of voices gasped aloud.
"I told you she wasn't dead."
That was the first voice I heard earlier, a girl's voice.
"Shut up, Francis."
And that had to be the other voice I heard, this was the guy she'd been arguing with.
"We need to call Healer Maina, Amias." The girl, Francis I think, instructed quickly. As she spoke I felt a hand gently touch my wrist, pressing against my vein to take my pulse.
Amias, I definitely recognized that name. He scoffed loudly, "I'm a healer-in-training I think--"
Francis must have whacked him because Amias' voice was cut off after I heard a thud of contact. "Exactly, you're still in training. So, until you're not in training, go get Healer Maina."
Amias grumbled under his breath and stomped out of the room. It was then when I found the ability to pry my eyes open. The searing light from the room flooded my vision and immediately made me regret my efforts.
I tried to push myself up off of the surface I found myself lying on when I realized that it was a bed that I was on. I was in a bed in a room that very much resembled a hospital room. "Where the hell am I?"
My voice came out course like a bizarre combo of a prepubescent teenaged boy eating sand paper. It caused Francis to flinch and spin around to face me, shock evident across her features as she stared down at me wide eyed.
Francis stayed there like that, just looking at me in shock for a few seconds longer before she regained control of her composure. She cleared her throat, her lanky figure looked strange in the small room only adding to the discomfort I was sensing, "My name's Francis, I'm your guard here."
I furrowed my brow and once more attempted to adjust myself into a sitting position and when I failed because my body was still operating sluggishly, I threw my hands up in frustration only to have them be roughly yanked back down. I stared down at my wrists noticing for the first time, slender metal cuffs encircling each of my hands with the other end being attached to the sides bed.
When I looked back up at Francis her eyes darted away from mine, obviously not wanting to have the conversation as to why I was chained to the mother f:cking hospital bed. Guards even in my pack were never much talkers.
Naturally, I was literally about to lose my sh:t when the door to the room was thrown open and a very angry Matteo stormed into the small space. He was followed by an tiny, older woman who immediately went over to me and began poking and prodding at my various injuries. Francis took the opportunity to skirt out of the room.
His fury was met equally by my own. With every fiber of my being, I hated him but Matteo ignored my silent fuming and turned towards the woman, "I want her back under, Maina." He growled out as he paced at the foot of the bed, ignoring me completely.
YOU ARE READING
Olive the Other WerewolvesWerewolf
[completed (-:] "Shift." His voice hit me like a serrated blade as he stepped out of the crude semicircle of hardened wolves that had formed around me. I pushed myself off of the cold floor for what felt like the thousandth time that day, wiping th...