(Taken from writing-prompt-s on Tumblr)

On a nature walk to clear your mind, you heard some soft squeaking sounds coming from a nearby tree stump. You warily walked closer to the sound, and peeked around the stump. On the ground was a bat with a torn wing. There were unfortunately no veterinary clinics within the area, so you did the next best thing and took it home. You gently picked it up, cooing softly to reassure it as you walked back through the woods, towards your car. You placed the bat in your lap, keeping it warm with your clothes and body heat as you drove back home.

When you arrived home, you began to nurse the bat. Feeding it, healing it, making sure it got proper rest. You just wanted to help this poor little bat.

It had been a week since you had rescued the bat, and it seemed to be recovering well. It was interacting, seeming more energetic, and its wing was healing well. Although, one morning, you see a sight you never would've expected. As you woke up and sat up in bed, a tall and slender man with pale skin, black slicked-back hair, and crimson-red eyes stood before you. He stared at you, seeming a little surprised at having been caught.

"Uh…" He quietly exclaimed in an awkward tone, his deep, Russian accent prominent without even needing to speak an actual word.