Mortal Death

Another example why I hate Dr. Suicide

My flat was quiet and I went to the bedroom directly after we had arrived, grabbing a foldable bag and stuffing more clothing into it.

Besides the few pieces of underwear I had taken before, along with some tops and one pair of dark grey jeans, I packed some of my more colourful clothes.

Ezra had gone to the kitchen and living room area, his shoes tapping on the floor when he walked.

A loud noise made me ask: "Is everything okay over there?"

"Yes I just ran over a flowerpot. Don't take too much", he answered and I sighed.

Now it was silent again and I peaked out of the bedroom door towards the living room.

Ezra stood in front of the window, looking out of it without a move. He cleared his throat a few times.

I went to the bathroom packing my face cream and body lotion I had already missed at Ezra's place. His bathroom was well stocked for a young man living alone, but it all had some certain kind of smell or texture that made me question its effect on my skin.

In the living room, Ezra again cleared his throat, which made me hesitate for a moment.

"I hope you're not sick", I said and he cleared his throat again, making me uncomfortable. I didn't like the way he answered, it was harsh and short.

"Sure. I'm not. Can we go now?"

Carefully I peaked out of the bathroom, looking at the person standing in front of the window.

It was Ezra who stood there, but he wasn't looking as if he was comfortable as usual.

Something was happening, something that held danger for him, but especially for me. He wanted to tell me to run, leave the flat and let him handle the situation alone, but I was sure, that, whatever it was, he was as powerless as I was.

Quietly I packed my things and turned on the water, so that it seemed as if I was still in the bathroom washing my hands or something.

Slowly and carefully I sneaked up to the door, my shadow luckily being cast into the short hallway I stood in. I stood and observed and waited for something to happen.

"Cat, come on, we have to get home", said Ezra with an annoyed and stressed tone, making my heart beat faster.

He was stressed. Someone had to be standing just around the corner waiting for me to enter the room. I could see the shadow of a person moving their hands on the floor and Ezra turned around slowly.

He didn't move a muscle when he saw me standing so close to the door and he just kept talking and coughing: "Catina, come on."

I didn't know what to do now. I wasn't armed, I had no chance of getting something I could defend myself with and the only thing I would be able to do, was run and hope that the person was alone and slow.

I looked at Ezra who kept staring, as if no one was there and he was as powerless as me.

Feverishly I looked around for something in my reach I cold use to defend myself with and to save Ezra too. As carefully as I could, I took my umbrella from the hook on the wall and grabbed it with both hands tightly.

I breathed in quietly and slowly before I threw myself into the unknown danger.

With a sudden jump I made it to the kitchen and blocked a painful beat with something I couldn't define right now. It broke my umbrella almost completely.

I wanted to reach for my knifes on the kitchen counter, when Ezra shouted: "Behind you!"

I blocked the stab with the dagger of Disease from a dark clothed person I didn't really see in the fast fight, but she was not yet ready and backing off from one stab.