He took heavy breaths as he trudged into the forest. Covered in grime, dirt, and blood, he had to find a place for help. Two months in a forest wasn't exactly ' good'. He felt himself longing to see her one more time, to be happy and to cry and to look into her eyes and see her lovely face one more time. He had no idea where he was or what had happened.
" I shouldn't have left her, she was too precious to leave. Oh, Emma. Why did we play the game in the first place?" he muttered to himself as he walked through the woods. He remembers the times when he held her hand, as they sat on the beach, watching the sunset together. Oh, how I miss that.
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The trees and the sun had decided to play a game, moving every now and then to confuse him and his sense of direction. His wound had gotten bigger, the dried-up blood had slowly started to infect his leg. Shit. I need to find a doctor, fast.He walks towards the water, and he strips off his topmost layer. On each arm, there is a collection of tattoos. They cover the great purple welts that have only deepened over the coming week. Against his ghostly skin, they are grotesque, but he is lucky to not have broken bones. Then what would I do, if I did? He sighs and reaches for his long-sleeved top inside his backpack. He sucks the blood from his finger as he looks at himself through the reflection of the river.
" It's great that I had to do some 'sparring' with guys two heads taller and over twice my mass! Yay! It's good I didn't die" he said in a sarcastic voice. He ruffles his messy black hair, his knuckles white in anger. He sucks in a deep breath. You're gonna die, blondie. Now the only thing he knew was that he had to catch that blue-eyed scumbag fast.
~ ~ ~
Anthony was trembling. As he opened the sheet, he felt his fingers moving in fear. It didn't make sense. And if she was in here, where was Heather? Where had she gone, and who had taken her? He shivered as he pulled the cloth further down. It was Charlotte. Her blond hair was a mess, covered with dust that lay thickly like winter's first snow. Her face that once was pale beige, was now a depressing dirty grey, her lips sucked from color. The worst thing was her neck. It had a rope around it, strangling her. Shit. I need to call the police. Fast.
Anthony started to dial the police, his hands shaking in fear as he sunk down against the floor. He started to frail, tears falling down his face as he took small breaths.
" Hello this is the police department. What is the emergency today?"
"I would like uh- to report a murder at Garden Groves Academy. I am locked in the third floor room closest to the right. Please come quickly."
"Okay, please slow down. What is your name?"
"Anthony, Anthony Graves."
"Okay, and do you recognize the corpse?"
"Yes, yes I do. It is, um- it is Charlotte Evans."
"We are sending people there now. They should be there in 5 minutes. Please stay calm."
"Yes mhm, ok-ay."
Anthony stood up, his legs shaking in fear as he tried to search for a window. Some light. BANG. " Hello? Is anybody there?" said Anthony. He shivered for a second as he looked around at the dusty bottles lined the shelves of the derelict room, the brilliant greens and blues lost below the grey-white layer. The dust was so thick that it built a layer over them that was more like fur, or else fragments of the old cobwebs that hung from the rafters above. BAMN. Anthony spun around to see that a crate had fallen. What was that? And why did it fall?
There. Finally, a window. He spun around and started pulling at the blind. Rays of sun, flood through into the darkroom, Anthony's eyes straining in pain. I've been in the dark for way too long. The sun spreads in to reveal the entire room. Filled with cobwebs, it seems to be like a vampire's long-lost home. Now, all he had to do was wait, until the police came.
