Bloody Snow and White Roses
Pairing: Whiterose, Bumblebee
Rating: young children shouldn't read alone (T)
Note: I wrote this a while ago, and i did edit but if there are mistakes do tell me.
'This was not how today was supposed to go' was the only truly coherent thought that ran through my head as my feet pounded against the pavement. My hand clutched at the searing pain sprouting from the junction between my shoulder and neck. Thick, sticky blood spread, staining my white hoodie a deep crimson as it gushed forth. I could hear the grating laugh of the man, no, monster that pursued me, and the light thumps of its partner keeping pace.
I had just stopped to help a little girl, as I walked home from my fencing class; an oddly coloured girl, for sure, but a little girl nonetheless. My eye was initially drawn to her brightly dyed hair, forcing me to notice her hunched form on the ground, leaning against a wall just inside the dusk shrouded mouth of an alley. I dropped my bag full of gear and jogged over, asking if she was alright.
She was fine. More than fine. Good enough to attack me with an umbrella she had hidden beside her.
With a quick swipe to my left, the side with my scarred and damaged eye, I was stunned. Her partner came soaring from above, his pristine coat flapped in the wind, and a chilling laugh trailed from his throat. Before I could gather my thoughts, his teeth were sunk deep into the flesh of my shoulder, through the fabric of both my t-shirt and hoodie.
The pain was excruciating. I could feel and hear my skin tearing as his fangs ripped through it like tissue paper. Just by reflex, or dumb luck, my hand clumsily managed to jab the monster hard in the throat, forcing him to gag and release his hold. Stumbling unsteadily, I created distance between myself and my assailant.
I raced over to my bag, and withdrew my epee. The sword had glinted in the light of the street lamps. My grip was sloppy, blood had oozed down my arm, wetting my hand. I refused to die without a fight. My family might not mourn if I were to die, but I damn well had things to live for, like showing up my asshole of a father. I refused to die because I would show him I am not a useless child. I will be a better, more caring parent to any offspring I have. I will find someone to give my love too, not some marriage of necessity, like my parents. I will become successful without my father's influence, and I refused to have some thrice damned vampire stand in my way.
With these thoughts having been seared into my mind, and eyesight tinted red, I lunged forward.
Without any form of padding the blade should have caused serious damage to the man's shoulder, but instead the blade stopped short. Its tip buried in his jacket, stopping just after it breached the skin.
My eyes had widened in horror as he chuckled, showing razor sharp fangs, his lips pulled back in a haunting sneer. His hand gripped the blade and yanked it harshly from my grasp, his jacket ripping as he does so. Without the fabric impeding my view, I saw the small stab wound mending itself. The flesh looked as though it were boiling, and strands of skin and muscle flicked and weaved together to close the laceration.
"Well, well, feisty are we? This is the first time my prey even managed to fight back, plus this should take a few minutes to heal. I commend you."
His words flowed like tar. The slick, disgusting sound caressed my ears in the most unpleasant fashion imaginable. As his words left his mouth, his hands were busy, snapping my blade as though it were a toy. Throwing the shards of my blade to the side, he advanced. His partner looked on in passive boredom behind him as he slowly stalked forward. His steps were even and unhurried, like a predator toying with its prey. He had known I had no chance at escape, even though I was in an open street.
Deeming my bag a lost cause, I ran. I ran faster than I'd ever run before, and I am still running. Air scalds my lungs as I suck in breath, and the savage pain in my shoulder flares, bringing tears to my eyes. My vision burns as liquid salt spills down my cheeks. I'm barely able to see when I make it to the next corner, and that's probably why I didn't see the person I collide with.
I am flung back from the sudden impact with a cry. My shoulder throbs in pain. My head hit the pavement with a crack, and my sight darkened and spun. I hear voices, like soft whispers dancing just outside of hearing, but I can barely understand their words. All I feel is crushing fear.
The mix of adrenaline, pain, and terror is nauseating. The world's a whirlwind of shapes and colours. Any sound I manage to hear is garbled and broken. I catch a few words from someone, probably the person I ran into. "Yang," "handle," and "take care of" are the only words I'm able to understand through my haze of pain before a gentle hand caresses the side of my face, guiding my head into a less awkward angle. Whoever was helping me had hands as soft as velvet and were as precise as a surgeon.
A light prod on my shoulder caused a harsh cry to escape my lips, a new wave of pain erupting at the soft touch, spreading further across my torso in a wall of fire, consuming each of my nerve endings with vicious greed. The hands continued their prodding even though I'm certain I was able to gasp out a strangled "stop" between sobs.
As time went on, the insistent poking ceased, but the pain remained and continued to devour every inch of my body, drowning out all sense of my surroundings. My skin felt as though it were being stabbed by millions of microscopic needles. White noise crackled in my ears, blocking all sound. My vision was dark, only shadowy blurs flickered in front of my narrowed eyes. The smell of blood invaded my nose, the heavy feeling of the iron liquid coated my throat.
My sense of panic lightened slightly, seeing as no more acts of surprise cannibalism had occurred. Whoever I had rammed into must have been able to fend off that monster of a man, and his tricoloured assistant. The brunt of my pain had also begun to slowly ebb away, allowing my senses to return.
The first returning sensation was the realization that my body had been moved from its supine position on the sidewalk, and I was now laying against something, or rather someone. My back was flush against their chest, and I could feel the slight swell of breasts against my shoulder blade.
My hearing started to come back as well. The soothing sound of soft singing filled my ears, the melodic voice heavenly and calming. There were no words to the woman's song but it was beautiful nonetheless. I can feel myself calming further. My heart no longer raced like a stampede of horses, and breathing was easier, although it still came in choked gasps.
With slight effort, I opened my eyes. I was still outside, but I had been moved. What had been dimming twilight had turned into complete darkness. The moon shone brightly, illuminating the dark alley my saviour and I sat in. Sounds of battle filtered from around the corner. The woman holding me mustn't have been alone. I sighed in relief. Had the woman, and whoever her companions were, not been around, I would surely be dead.
At my sharp exhale, the woman's singing slowly trailed off, and her arms, previously wrapped around my torso, loosened.
"Can you hear me now?"
I gurgled out an affirmative. The woman's voice had an odd sort of accent, sounding as though it were a mix from several different countries.
"My name is Blake. If you can speak, can you tell me yours?"
"Weiss." My voice cracked as the word struggled from my mouth.
"Alright, Weiss, I need you to listen to every word I say. Your body is going through a transformation I wouldn't wish on any man, woman, or child, but I'm going to help you through it. There are good things about what is happening to you, even if it just seems like endless pain right now."
Blake's voice was calming and soft. Despite her alarming words, I couldn't bring myself to care. The pain I was feeling was still too great, but I managed to groan an answer, or at least I thought I had, but before I could make sure, I heard another voice.
"Blake, how is she?"
The voice of another woman came from my right, and traveled to a point where I could see the speaker. Long, blond hair tumbled down to cover strong shoulders clad in a brown leather jacket. She had a strong jaw and a delicate nose, but marring her beautiful features was a distinct splash of blood across the bridge of her nose; the crimson liquid dripped down her temple.
"Her transformation is almost complete. Are you hurt, Yang?"
The blond strode over and kneeled down next to us. An arm covered in a black sleeve removed itself from my waist to wipe away the blood dripping from the other woman's face. Yang let her eyes drift closed at the touch. A small ripple emanated from the pale fingertips brushing her face, resulting in, to my shock, the closing of the cut on her temple.
"Now I'm not."
She murmured with a grin. Moving closer she slide her, surprisingly strong, arms under my shoulders and knees. Her grip was delicate but firm. She stood smoothly, but still managed to jostle my shoulder slightly. She gave a quiet "sorry" as I groan my displeasure, but still moved to look at the woman I had woken up too.
Her hair was a deep midnight black. It cascaded down her back like an onyx waterfall. A black bow rested neatly in her hair, and matched well with her dark navy fold over coat. Her pale skin and piercing amber eyes glowed, almost unnaturally, in the darkness of the alley, making her pale pallor even more noticeable.
"We should get out of here before those two animals decide to make a surprise reappearance."
The venom in Blake's tone is surprising, but really I couldn't argue considering one tried to eat me. I felt Yang nod her head in agreement, before she made her way toward the entrance of the alley.
This was not how today was supposed to go, but for some reason, as I was being carried so delicately, as though someone felt concern for my safety and feelings; almost as though I felt loved, I couldn't bring myself to care.