Leuthold Preparatory | ✓

Chapter Twelve

The Infirmary

Noah's back hit the stall, his hand was too slick to grab the floor; her blood neither seemed real nor believable as she cocked her head in such an unnatural way that it made Noah's skin crawl. His breath came out in short, choppy pants in failed attempts to ground himself back into reality. 

With a raspy growl, she sprung towards him. Noah felt that whatever instinct he had to flee such a situation finally kick in when she lunged at him. He scrambled toward the sink. Her fingers scraped down his arm and he shouted at the contact.

His heart hammered when he got to the sink, pulled himself upright and bolted toward the door. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that this wasn't right, that she wasn't real. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that it wasn't good for him. Somewhere in his mind, he cursed himself for not simply going outside. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that he could not outrun anyone.

Sure enough, Noah felt hands on his back and he was on the ground in an instant after he reentered the corridor; his air flew out of his lungs as if he spat it out. The floor was unforgiving and cold against his body as he tried to breathe, as he tried to think. Her hands were unforgiving and cold as she turned him over, pulled him upright and he gasped for air in the same whistle-like way she breathed, desperate for one last gasp.

She reached up her claw-like hand, it hovered over him, his eyes flashed between it and her bloody teeth and lips that had pulled into a smile. Noah grabbed her arm, he felt weaker and smaller than he ever had when he tried to hold her back, feeling the scaliness of her skin and the way it warped in his grasp.

Her eyes sockets went wide, a string of tissue swayed when she rocked back before she disappeared into nothing but a dark mist that soared down the hallway and Noah heard the bathroom door slam shut once more.

With her gone, Noah felt his breath quickly return in coughs and pants as he laid back and stared at the wooden ceiling above him. Plumes of fog left his lips and he felt his body shiver at the cold the surrounded him. It lasted until he felt a hand that felt as hot as a stove grab his arm.

The scream that left him was hardly contained but Hannil seemed more than understanding and as frightened as he. He kept ahold of Noah and hoisted him to his feet before his green eyes, wide and frightened, looked at the bathroom door.

"You saw it, right?" Hannil asked, his voice hardly more than a whisper.

"Saw it?!" Noah replied back in the same hushed tone, panic was heavier in his voice. "It grabbed me!" He whimpered. 

Hannil grabbed onto his wrist and pulled him down the hall in one of his sprints. Noah had thought before he would never be able to keep up with him, but his feet landed him just a bit out-of-breath behind Hannil when he finally let go and pushed his back against the door he had opened.

"You saw," Hannil said again.

"The girl," Noah nodded.

"No eyes?"

"No eyes." Noah shook his head.

"Oh, God," Hannil looked paler than he ever had when he leaned his head back against the seam of the door. Noah hadn't seen him so out of breath before, but it was a small comfort that Hannil had seen whatever it was that grabbed him.

After a moment, Noah looked at his hands, he saw no blood on his left that had touched hers, but it still felt wet, damp by the blood it had landed in.

"Mate, you face," Hannil touched his shoulder before his hair, and turned his head a bit.

Noah felt his ears turn hot, no one touched him and soon it seemed Hannil realized how uncomfortable he was and let go with a small apology between his gasps.

"Scratches," Hannil said to him before he put three of his fingers to the side of his neck and mockingly scratched down his neck toward his adam's apple.

Noah touched the right side of his neck and felt three marks along his neck, just as Hannil had suggested.

"You two all right?"

"Oh, Jesus, Mi Na!" Hannil snapped at her before his head thumped against the door.

Noah turned to see her a few feet away from them, she held some books and Hanna had a cart beside her. Noah could hear someone in the library shush them, but he couldn't suppress the way he gasped for air, he felt weaker than he ever had. Even smaller.

"You two look like you touched a ghost," Hanna said.

"Saw a ghost," Mi Na quietly corrected the phrase.

"She—she didn't have eyes," Noah stammered as he held onto the door, his brain felt as though it were swimming. It tried to keep above whatever water existed inside his skull.

"Who didn't?" Mi Na asked.

"She was bleeding," Noah said weakly before his brain felt as though it turned around and around inside his skull, shrinking each time it went.

Within a moment, Noah saw the room turn sideways, his vision was of people's feet and the floor, the bookshelves horizontal. His eyes closed as he heard his voice being called, unfamiliar voices called for help, for doctors and nurses. 

___________________________________

Noah felt as though there was a large commotion around him, bright light and voices. People moved all around and about. There were lights that went by him, through his eyelids they looked pink and distant, yet too close for comfort.

When he finally opened his eyes, the room was dark and lit only by a bright, blue light that he could not see or find. There were still people that moved in such elongated yet quick motions that they left trails of themselves behind. Between his eyes, he could see something on his nose, his breath felt strange, as if he had never breathed before.

In a moment, Noah felt pain surge through his body. As if he were suddenly reminded he was in pain for a long, long time. It was more pain than he could handle; he wanted to scream, to writhe, to stop what blood leaked from him and what pain had such a hold on him. It was internal, he thought, he thought he could feel someone's hands wrap around his insides.

Through the pain and gritted teeth, Noah felt a hand touch his hair. It might have comforted him, it moved through his hair how his mother's often had. Soft, gentle touches as if to calm him and his astray locks. Yet the hand was wet, mop-like, and held him roughly against the table.

No noise left him despite how much he wanted to scream when the hand curled into his hair and pulled his head straight, forced him to look back and his eyes met bright, blue ones, a lock of grey hair had fallen out from beneath her pale, blue cap.

"Be still," Ms. Rae said to him, "We're almost finished."

He could feel his heart race, the way his body wanted to flee, to move in any way. His breath got heavier, the smell dulled him, no matter how he wanted to fight, he was incapable. 

_____________

[ A/N: I really like this story and where it's going so I truly hope you all do as well. Also, I hope this isn't reading like "instalove" because I can see how someone could read it that way, but it's far more like: "oh no your hot and i don't know how to deal with anyone in general and i fucked up our first meeting repeatedly" which makes him anxious lol. But anyway! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, please vote and/or comment to let me know! ]