The hollow wind slices through the wood, nipping at your skin. You drag your legs beneath you, your body suddenly aware of the weight it’s carrying. Blood seeps through your fingers, your hand doing a weak job at suppressing blood flow.

Forcing your leg to bend at the knee, you stumble up the stairs of the last place you’d want to seek help at. Your ears ring, your body buzzing and burning to the point you’re almost numb.

At the top of the stairs your knees buckle, your body leaning forward till your shoulder slams against the door with a thud. Your breathing is labored, your vision blurred, and blood staining the porch.

A few minutes later the door opens and your enemy peers down at you. “My my, look what we’ve got here. Oh? You’re bleeding.” His expression is manic, his eyes wide and red.

You groan, your vision blurred. He’s the last one you wanted to seek help from; he’s an asshole. Clenching your jaw, you stare at him. “Help— help me, asshole.”

He drops down to your level, crouching beside you. Tilting your head up with his index finger, he smirks. “I have to admit, seeing you like this is thrilling. You, at my door, desperate for help. Fuck, you smell delicious.”

Your head spins, the world beneath you fading. Fast. Your body feels cold, the warm blood spilling from your abdomen no longer warm. Your eyes roll back, the world fading to black.

When your vision spots, you’re able to make out his silhouette. Then his back and the soft mattress beneath you. The one your blood is soaking.