Wild Tiger Chase | Book #2 (Complete)

48: you can run but you can't hide (Part I)

content warning (cw): mild descriptions of blood, moderate descriptions of wounds

— Phillip —

Phillip looked down at his bare feet, then up to the scene playing in front of his eyes. He felt the cold, the pain, and the weakness caused by the thinness of the hospital gown, the broken glass he had stepped on, and the sickness in his veins—in this order. He felt things, smelled things, and heard things. He could almost taste the bitterness and the blood in his own throat, dried and sore thanks to the tube that was stuck inside it until hours ago. And even though his senses were all working, nothing in this place felt right.

The red fog was the last thing he remembered before waking up for the first time. After what felt like years, he saw himself in a hospital bed, prickled by IVs and plugged into a life support machine. Rafa was there, teared up and confused—and as Phillip told her the truth, Rio made his entrance and put him to sleep again.

Hours later, he woke up for the second time.

Phillip tore away all the needles, clips, and tubes so he could trudge through the foggy, empty streets going from nowhere to nothingness. In a silence broken only by the distant sound of battle, the streets led him to a two-story building that looked like a restaurant and smelled like a cemetery. Once he looked through the window, his eyes widened.

And now, being frozen in place for the past minutes, he still wondered in what kind of distorted reality was Léon capable of attacking Roberto... and in what kind of fucked-up world did Rafa die in her brother's place.

Everything had happened so fast, Phillip barely understood the sequence of events he had witnessed. Rob touched Léon's arm. Léon turned around and attacked. Before his attack landed, Rafa interrupted the blow with her arms crossed above her head.

The thin layer of crystals broke with a crisp crack, and Léon's scythe met the flesh of Rafa's arm.

For a second there, she was quiet and motionless and dead, or so it seemed, but after a moment, she growled. Her muscles flexed, legs and arms acting in unison as she tried to push Léon back. Still, it wasn't enough.

Phillip wasn't sure if the darkness escaping from the gaping wounds on her arms was really blood or something else, but it didn't matter. The blade bit into her flesh at the same time as Phillip pushed himself away from the window and into the room. The window panels swung inside, and Phillip climbed up the window sill with all the glory that his hospital gown allowed.

Meters away, Rafa bit down her lower lip, locked her jaw, and let out a muffled, trembling scream. Rob, then Phillip held Léon's arms, trying to stop him. Phillip could see it now. The substance oozing from Rafa's wound was a mix of blood and a purple-red, iridescent substance that could only be Lifeforce.

"Wake the fuck up, Dickens!" Phillip shouted.

"Leo, please!" Rob added.

Léon blinked, and Phillip almost thought he'd go back to normal. Instead, Léon positioned his right foot away and, as if Phillip and Rob's combined force was nothing for him, he leaned forward to push his scythe further down. The blade dug deeper into Rafa's arms. She wailed and tried to escape from him, but Léon accompanied her movements as if intent on finishing what he had started.

Steps approached. Jackal had a murderous look in her eyes as her steps echoed inside the restaurant. She held Léon's curved blade with her bare hands and clenched her fingers. Cracks appeared and spread on it. With a loud crack, the scythe broke.