The Hyenas {Dreamnotfound AU}

12. Nickname

TW ~ minor mentions of blood ~ TW

George's POV

I shoot up in bed as I wake to the sound of knocking on a wooden door and screaming, and I find Clay already awake in the same position. In the dark I can only catch some light reflecting in his eyes, but they look at me like a deer in headlights. I adjust to my surroundings as the noise continues.

"Is that-" I try to say but Clay's hand goes to cover my mouth as he shushes me. 

"It's coming from the door," he whispers, removing his hand and making his way out of our blanket maze. I see him grabbing his sword as he tiptoes to the hallway, cautiously listening to the sound of a very distressed person, to say the least. A million thoughts run through my head. Is someone in danger? Do we need to help them? Or is it a Hyena, trying to trick us?

I follow Clay's example. I grab one of the knives from the counter and make my way to the hallway as well, but I make sure to hide behind Clay. 

"Please! If anyone is there, please help me," the person cries out, slamming their fists against the trap door. 

"What do we do?" I whisper as silently as I can, startling Clay who hadn't noticed I had come to stand behind him.

"You scared the living shit out of me," he says, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. I suppress a giggle, remembering the severity of the situation. 

"What time is it?" I ask, but neither of us are wearing our watch.

"I'm injured, please!" we hear the person scream. 

"We can't just leave them to die out there, right?" I whisper. Clay looks like he is debating with himself whether or not he should open the door.

"It could be a trap," he whispers back as he lowers his sword, "we can't take the risk. I'm sorry, this is probably going to be a long night." 

"Is anybody there?" the person yells, their slamming slowly dying down. Clay shakes his head at me and pushes my hand which is holding the knife down. The slamming turns to knocking as the person outside the trap door falls silent. If he's a real victim, he probably realized he should be as quiet as possible in order not to be found. Falteringly, we stand at the hallway, not quite sure what to do. The knocking continues. Maybe it's their way to calm themselves down. 

Clay takes initiative and puts his sword away again, dragging himself back to bed. He beckons me to do the same, but I stay standing at the hallway. He shoots me a confused look, before muttering a 'whatever' and finding a comfortable way to cuddle up with a pillow. The knocking echoes through the bunker, and I sit down on the ground, with my back against the wall, laying the knife beside me. I know Clay is right. It could be a trap and we could be dead in seconds if we opened the trap door. But it gnaws on me. The only thing I can do is keeping this lonely person company in my head. Eventually the knocking stops, and I only hear soft snores coming from the bed, soon followed by my own.

---

I feel the confusion of waking up in a place where I didn't fall asleep. I tap my hand around where Clay normally lays, and when I can't find him, I open my eyes slowly to scan for his body, but it's not between the blankets. He's sitting on the couch with one of his books. I rub away the sleep from my eyes and sit up, catching his attention.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he says as he puts down the book. "I put you to bed again, the wall didn't look very comfortable." 

"Was it real?" is the first thing spilling out of my mouth. Clay sighs and nods, shifting on the couch. "We have to see if they're still there," I state as I lift myself out of bed and put my shoes on, still wearing the flimsy pajama pants Clay has borrowed me. I pull my hoodie over my head and grab a knife, ready to walk into the hallway while I tie my scarf around my face, but my path is being blocked by the tall, blonde man.