Runners

Chapter Five

Wesley felt cold hands pressing into his back, firmly but softly. Involuntarily, he coughed and the tiny hands quickly darted away. Wesley propped himself up to look at the person that had been touching him.

 "You're awake," a female voice said to him timidly. Wesley rolled onto his side. He was on a king-sized bed in a round room with one window and two doors. He was a slightly worried and his memory was extremely hazy. The girl was sitting on the other side of the bed. She was blind. Wesley could tell because her eyes were a pale blue, and she wasn't making eye contact with him. She had long honey-red hair that curled in at the ends. She was very small and wearing a knee-length, Cerulean blue dress that made her look like she had stepped out of the 1800s. Wesley noticed a first aid kit sitting slyly on the corner of the bed.

 "Yea. Who are you?" Wesley asked looking from her to the kit, continuously. Wesley had bad experiences with first aid kits, doctors, and anything else along the line of recovery.

 "I'm Paisley. You got injured pretty badly and the headmaster asked me to take care of you."

 Wesley thought about this for a moment. He remembered transforming into a wolf, but decided not to tell Paisley any of that for fear of her thinking he was insane. Thinking about it a little more, he wasn't even sure if it happened. It seemed like a fading dream. For now, he decided to let it go.

 "Headmaster?" Wesley questioned.

 "Yes. He wishes to speak with you when I am done." Wesley recalled her hands on his back and wondered just how much damage had been done. He knew his ankle was injured from the fight before, so he could cross that annoying, acute pain off the list. His arm was bleeding something fierce, but it wasn't bruised although the blood was tinted a purple color. Wesley had to refrain from gagging. To get his mind off the gore, he revealed his worries.

 "So what is wrong with my back?" He shifted his weight again and felt some of the pain. He didn't even wince. The pain from his arm and ankle were a lot worse than his back. He sighed, trying to relax.

 "Nothing that can't be fixed. There are some deep cuts, and there was a bunch of blood. You're fine right now, though. I was almost done when you woke up." Wesley found himself nodding, forgetting that she wouldn't be able to see him. He thought about the letters on the gate. LAM. He wondered what the acronym stood for. Before he could ask, Paisley cut into his thoughts.

 "What's your name?" He could tell she was trying to start easy conversation to relax him. He liked her voice. It was soft and shy. Subconsciously, he smiled.

 "Wes-."

 "Paisley! What are you doing?" A blonde boy had thrashed into the room and was glaring at Wesley. Wesley felt a sense of déjà vu wash over him.  He had to admit it, though; to any common person the situation would look bad. Having a bloodied boy on her bed, shirtless and probably staring her at like she had fallen from heaven would look terrible. Paisley remained calm. She didn't jump or wince, and spoke to the boy patiently.

 "Skye, this really isn't the time. The headmaster asked me to help him so lay off." The boy moved away from the bed still glowering, and slouched against one of the doors. Wesley noticed that his neck was bleeding. Not heavily, but it did look like it needed some attention. It was an odd shaped injury. It appeared as if a giant spider had bitten him.

Wesley felt a cold sensation touch his bloody back and then an acute pain. He guessed she had poured alcohol on the wound. He winced and internally cursed himself for doing so. The blonde smirked.

 "I'm surprised you survived all that if you can't handle a little alcohol. But then again, you did pass out." He laughed to himself. Wesley opened his mouth to give the boy a piece of his mind but immediately shut it.

 "Schuyler Whitlatch. I said lay off." Paisley's voice shut him up but increased the tension in the room.  Wesley waited in an awkward silence, hoping she would get finished soon.

 "Ok," Paisley's voice was soft and sweet again, "I'm done."

 "Good," Schuyler cut in before Wesley could say thanks, "the headmaster wants to speak with you." Schuyler reached into the closet he was pressing against and threw a white shirt at Wesley. "Put that on and hurry up." Schuyler walked out and slammed the door.  Paisley gave him a small smile.

 "I'm sorry about that. He's pretty uptight with everyone and it doesn't take much to make him angry." She shook her head and playfully laughed at what she had just admitted.

 "So… is he your boyfriend?" Wesley attempted to ask casually while pulling the shirt over his head. He twitched when it touched his back. Paisley began laughing so hard she started to hiccup. She calmed down after a minute or two.

 "No," she responded still laughing a little, "He's my older brother." Well that's good, Wesley thought to himself. Then he corrected the thought. If he's her brother than he is probably really protective.

 "You should probably go before he becomes furious." Paisley stepped off the bed and walked to the closet Schuyler had just been leaning against. "I'm glad you're ok."

 Wesley forced his eyes away from her. "Yea me, too. Oh, and thanks for helping." He knew he sounded like an idiot for almost forgetting. She smiled a warm, genuine grin. Wesley returned the smile and went through the door that exited the bedroom.  

 The blonde was leaning in the hallway, fuming. Wesley could see another door at the end of the hall, and an open arch that appeared to lead to a kitchen. He tried not to make eye contact with Schuyler. Something about him was too familiar.

 "Well, are you ready?" His voice was sugarcoated with irritation.

 "Yea." Schuyler led Wesley down the hallway and out the door. They started walking through the building. Wesley knew he would easily get lost in here if he were on his own. There were so many doors and passages, and no clues as to which was which. They all looked the same. They started ascending a set of stairs. When they reached the top, Schuyler stopped so Wesley did too.

 "The headmaster is right through that door." The door was huge, with intricate green patterns carved into it. "Oh and leave my sister alone, Runner, I mean it. You don't want to get on my bad side." Wesley couldn't ask him what he meant by Runner, because the blonde stomped off in the direction they had come from. He shook it off. Everything about this night was becoming more and more confusing. Wesley approached the door. At least now I might get some answers, he thought and with great effort pushed the iron doors open.