The albino lay there in a pool of red, just a shade darker than his hair. The liquid bubbled out of his mouth as he struggled to breath, a single pale hand reaching out to the dragon lord weakly, causing even more blood to spill from the wound with each desperate movement.
"H-help," he choked out.
The spasms ceased. His eyes dulled. Jack died.
All through this, Chase Young did nothing. He couldn't do anything. For once in his life, the powerful immortal was... powerless.
Wasting no time, the everlord threw off the covers, jumping to the floor. Not even worrying about the fact he was only wearing sweatpants, he raced down the hallway, ignoring the curious stares of the feline warriors.
Jack Spicer was dead.
The place he needed to see was at the opposite end of his citadel, and he ran, faster than he could ever remember moving, sleep and fear clouding his mind. He rounded the corner.
His crimson eyes were empty, devoid of life.
Past the library, past the pool, down a flight of stairs. Damn it, why had the room been placed so far away!?
His face was frozen in a moment of torment.
It took far too long to reach the bedroom that belonged to his current apprentice, and when he got there, he threw open the door breathlessly. It slammed into the wall hard, knocking several belongings off the shelves.
He had been begging for help.
Jack woke up with a tiny shriek and tumbled out of his bed, managing taking the sheets and pillows crashing to the ground with him. He looked up blearily, taking in Chase's disheveled appearance. "wassamater?" He mumbled, words blurring together.
Chase couldn't stop it.
Chase's eyes widened slightly as he realized what he looked like. The Dragon Lord cleared his throat and stood up straight. "Everything is fine. Go back to sleep." He closed the door gently and headed back to his room, slightly red from embarrassment. This time he shot a death glare towards any jungle cat that dared to look amused.
He wouldn't let that happen. Not ever.