Fang War

4☽

The oddness of her dreams were a blur this time. Under the sway of a morphine flow, Lila's groggier than before when her eyes open back in the hospital. 

She sighs. Dreading, that this part of her memory wasn't a nightmare like everything else lost to the haze. The hospital is again her host. Though a part of her felt she should be grateful to have somewhere safe to stay, there was still all that cash in her seedy hotel room waiting to be stolen by lazy maids.

Not to mention, how the hell was she going to pay for all of this?

Her injuries must've been severe and she'd passed out again before she had her chance to speak to her doctor. She checked her hands that should be cut up, bruised, at least, but found them impeccable. Dirty, yes, but she couldn't find a mark on her. Her eye that took in the brunt of the bastard's punch, felt normal under her touch.

As she checked herself, a figure blurred in the room. He's still, sitting in the corner, patiently waiting for her to focus, to fully wake. Instantly, she knew it wasn't Adonis. In fact, she felt a rush of unease, as if a storm brewed around her bed. His intent on her is keen and foreign.

Her one eye must've healed since she's regained the ability to narrow her eyes.

There's another man. Another around the age of Adonis, but he didn't belong here. He's well dressed as if his wardrobe fell out of the Gatsby era. His skin, fair. Almost too fair, that it sets off a pair of shooting blue eyes from his dark, long lashes. From a stone stare, he smiled when she met his eyes. Perfect teeth, perfect everything...everything but his aura.

"Who are you?" she asks softly.

"My name is Zachary Vasile," he replies as he leans forward.

His posture mimics the stature of a prince from a rich foreign country.

Zachary says, "You might not remember me, but I'm the one who brought you here. I'm the one who helped you."

Lila is trying to focus her eyes, trying to recall the stiff, yet strangely attractive man sitting in the dark corner of the room.

"The cops tell me you're a serial killer," she dankly blurts.

He laughs and she can see the white of his smile widen further. A smile that shines just as brightly as his dancing eyes in the shadows.

"No. All of that's been cleared up. I went and spoke with them earlier today while you were still sleeping. Went down to the police station. Told them some animal killed those men who were going to hurt you. I heard the screaming. Came running. Found you when it was about to get you next. It looked like a wild dog. A big, wild dog..."

He explains this as if he's reading it from a script in a difficult, unknown language.

"Adonis said that the man that dropped me off here was black. Errr, African American..." Lila tried to be politically correct but might have been more offensive in her sad attempt.

He laughs again, replying, "I think I'm the whitest person anyone's ever seen. So, no. I think your friend requires an eye examination."

The bouquet of red roses in his hand is revealed when he stands.

"Is Adonis your boyfriend?" he asks.

She scoffs, "He's my nurse. My male nurse, as a matter of fact...no judgment."

Not sure if she's generally this funny and stereotyping, or if the fading painkillers helped her in this show of hers, he chuckles.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.