The Binding

Chapter One

I was outside and on the ground. That was clear enough. Gradually he smiled.

"Welcome."

He waited for me to say something.

"You... What h..." My voice trailed off, I was unable to finish even that simple question.

"So many things," he answered cryptically. I waited a couple of seconds for him to clarify. He just smiled. Dark olive skin surrounded the darkest eyes I'd ever seen.

I moved my hand to my stomach and felt something cold and wet against my shirt. My fingers were covered in blood. "Oh, God!" It was blood. My blood.

"It's okay. You're alright," said another voice. Behind the first man, I saw another, as fair-skinned as the first man was dark. Blond hair fell down to his shoulders, making him look like a knight out of a medieval fairytale.

I tried to sit up, and a sharp pain shot across my abdomen. My bloody hand clutched at the place where the pain was agonizing while my other hand came up to my face. It was wet. I'd been crying. I brushed aside my shirt to look at the source of the pain. A deep red line blazed against the whiteness of my skin. I had clearly been hurt, but the only blood I could see was splattered and soaked into my shirt.

The dark man took my hand. "Come. We'll help you inside. You can clean up."

I allowed him to help me. Savage pain shot across my ribs as I stood up. They guided me through the back door of a sports bar. The blond moved in front of us. "I'll get a table," he said matter-of-factly before walking off further into the bar.

The dark man kept his hand at the small of my back as we walked toward another set of doors. "You can clean up in there," he said, gesturing to the women's restroom. I nodded, slightly dazed, as I made my way across the floor. I noticed he had my messenger bag slung over his shoulder. When had he picked it up? I vaguely remembered swinging it, trying to hit somebody with it. As soon as I tried to grip the memory, it vanished. He handed it to me. It was heavy with books I had just bought. I should have gone straight home after leaving the store. Instead, I had to make a little detour for coffee.

I stopped at the door as my stomach jerked and rolled. Was I going to be sick? I felt the man watching me and turned to look at him. He was slightly taller than me, well built and sturdy. He had thick black wavy hair curling down to the nape of his neck. Why was I noticing this?

"Um... wait," he said as he began unbuttoning his shirt. I could see a dark grey t-shirt underneath. He shrugged it off and handed it to me. "You'll need this." His eyes drifted down to my stomach. I followed his gaze to my blood-soaked shirt and grimaced. The sight of my own blood, so thick I could taste the copper on my tongue, should have had me shaken to the core. Instead, all I felt was a detached numbness, as if it were just another horror flick on Netflix.

Still dazed, I took the shirt and my bag and made my way into the restroom. It was empty. Good. If someone saw me splattered in blood, I don't know what I'd say... if I was able to say anything at all.

I walked to the sink and washed the blood from my hands, watching the water pool red. Very slowly and gently, I pulled the t-shirt over my head, smearing blood on my cheek in the process. The pain was sharp, but I was becoming accustomed to it.

I ran my fingers lightly over my abdomen. The gash was more than an inch long and spread between my ribs on the left side. It was swollen, tender, and just starting to scab over. Little drops of fresh blood clung to the edges. I wadded up a paper towel and ran it beneath the cold tap, then carefully began washing away the splotches of blood from my skin. It was still bleeding slightly but not too bad. I needed a bandage but didn't have anything, so I wadded up a paper towel and pressed it against the wound. Next, I bent over carefully to rinse off my face. I noticed dark circles had formed under my eyes. My skin was pale, and my lips were tinged blue, making a disturbing similarity with my eyes.