Cerulean Feathers

Chapter 9

Neon signs blinked wildly as people wandered aimlessly, their destination unclear as they chose a random building to enter.
Groups sat at bars, antlers getting locked accidentally to each other and the occasional wing brush and wink bringing the Alphas out of people.
Flocks of Omegas giggled as their wings grew messy, feathers strewn across apartment floors or being swept up by a drained janitor.

Those not out slept heavily under blankets, their gentle snores and quiet purrs lost to the stars that danced to the song of the moon.

A tall building stood dark against the neon-glowing sky, the windows dark as those inside slept.

The leftovers of a well-prepared dinner chilled in the fridge and those who couldn't dream shifted uncomfortably.

A shadow moved in the darkness.
A knife caught the light of a passing car.

An Omega laid sprawled across his bed, blue wings twitching in his sleep.
An eyelid fluttered, then squinted as he took a deep breath.
With a yawn, the Omega stretched, slowly lifting his head to take in the room around him.

A dim red glow came from his nightstand, and as Jonathan sat up, he rubbed his eyes to read the time.

11:23 pm.

Frowning, Jonathan sat up, feeling an ache in his stomach that he was too familiar with.

To the kitchen with me.

He thought drowsily, smiling as he stumbled to his feet and down the stairs. He fumbled uselessly for the light before giving up, feeling his way to the fridge before opening it.

As the single light blinded him, Jonathan heard a rustle behind him.
He froze, his mind instantly awake and checking for other small sounds before he slowly turned around.
Blackness.
Mentally cursing himself for leaving the light off, Jonathan took a step back, closer to the fridge.
If this was the only light he had, he was going to use as much as possible.

"Who's there?"
He called out, his eyes searching for the slightest movement.

"What are you doing here, Omega?"
A voice growled.
It sounded like the owner was on the other side of the fridge, but when Jonathan kicked the door open all the way he only got a flash of antelope horns.

An Alpha.

"Aw come on. Let's not play hard to get now..."
The voice sneered, the hairs on the back of Jon's neck standing up. A black gloved hand slid under the fridge door, grabbing Jonathan's ankle and pulling him to the floor before slamming the door shut.

Darkness.
Jonathan completely lost his sense of sight, but he attempted to kick the attacker off anyway.
He didn't stop thrashing until there was a prick on his throat.
"Now now, let's relax a moment. You seem to have been foolish enough to come downstairs without turning on the light and watching your surroundings, so this is all your fault."
Jonathan swallowed and felt the hidden person shift behind him.
"Oh well. I never liked you anyway Jonathan."

This was it.
This was how he was going to die.
A slashed throat after he tried to eat a midnight snack.

Pitiful.

Jonathan couldn't stop the tears that forced their way to his eyes, and no matter how hard he swallowed, he could feel a whine clawing its way out. Jonathan clenched his teeth, but the whine crawling up his throat still slipped through, eerie and solemn as it echoed through the whole floor. The attacker hissed and seemed about to snap something when a door opened upstairs.

"Hello?"

Tyler.
Jonathan felt his heart lurch as a fear scent began leaking off the person holding Jonathan at knife-point.
Maybe he wouldn't die, at least not yet.