Fire Hazard

‘Move Innocent’

The panic tearing through you paralyzing you in place, silent and choking horror squeezing at your throat, as you look down at the bleeding mess of your friend. You need to go to her, you need to stop the bleeding before its too late. You want to cry and scream yourself hoarse, to empty your stomach from the sight of fluids dripping off her face.

Her eyes, oh god. Her /eyes/.

Cold dread and frozen nerves lock you in place as your head continues to scream with the voices of Hunters past. Tears roll down your cheeks, cold streaks stinging your skin in the winter night. This was not happening, it couldn’t be happening, Midnight would have been with her Kindred and she’s safe, she must be safe. Your breathing has become ragged as your mind raced along with the screaming, more tears falling off your jaw to the ground below.

‘Stop shaking, Innocent. She does not have much time left’

You still, the force and clarity of the single voice over throwing your internal screaming and that of the unseen ghost choir making you stop breathing. You were so used to the cacophony of voices that hearing just one was jarring to say the least. Yet you vaguely feel like the voice is familiar from the usual din in your mind. You can pin point when you first noticed it too, back when you were lying in a hospital bed from the attack. Remembering that night that sent you there however sends a jolt of pain into your right shoulder, drawing a whimper from your lips.

‘Go to her. She called for you, you must reach her Innocent’

You are scared of hurting her further, of touching her and making her more panicked from the action.

‘Swallow your fear and take action, this is not about you. This is about her, the City and the lives that live here’

How will you stop the fear burning in your chest. The cold ache in your stomach at the sight of her bloodied face.

‘I will give you the strength to face her and what is to come. Let the fire in your heart outshine the doubt. Will you co-operate’

You will, you could feel that the voice knew your answer before asking, you want to help her and protect the precious few people that have come into your life. Suddenly you felt warmth, the worry and dread burning away from the heat, the world coming into sharp focus. You had a job to do, there was no room for conflicting emotions. You were upon her, a flow of calming energy radiating around your body to ease the panicked mind of your closest friend as you gently took her head and rested it in your lap. Your voice is calm and collected, easing her worry the best you can as your power flows into her as you pet her hair softly. Gently brushing her hair back from her face from the sticky mess, your rub her thumb over each cheek to try and clean up her face the best you can as you listen to her speak incoherently. Leaning down, you place a soft kiss to her forehead and whisper her nickname as her try to convey that she needs to speak slower and breath. You can feel her start to calm at last, her panicked hissing breathes slowing down through her teeth, her jaw clenched shut from pain. You notice then that she was holding something, looking like a piece of wood with a carving on it. Laying not far from her was a machete, making you wonder if she had carved the wood in her daze. You couldn’t understand what it meant, seeing only a portion of the wood, but by the way she was holding it like it was made of the finest of materials you knew if was something important to her. You shake your head as a jolt runs through you, a feeling that you had more pressing issues to answer instead of dwelling on a carved wood chunk. Mind refocused, you try to get as much information out of your calmed friend about what had happened to leave her in this state, your phone resting on the ground beside you as you key a message to your friends and cousin about the attack.

You gather her into your arm, helping her finally stand back on her feet, as the round of squealing tires and Guns&Roses speed closer to where you both are. You knew who it was before you even saw them, a sensation of compete familiarity washing over you. On the outside, you were the picture of calm and determined. Inside, the inferno lit by the voice has only begun to feed on the rage building from the trauma your friend has endured this night.

Somewhere in your mind, you can hear the low soft laugh of the voice.