(Elektra's POV)
"AGHHHH" I scream. The hand resting on my shoulder like a ton of bricks quickly moves to replace itself over my mouth. I hear subtle movements coming from the living room like a sly fox hunting its prey. I can slowly find myself fading away from the current situation, into a lifeless sleep. The last thing I feel is myself being lifted up into a pair of strong arms and being comfortably placed into a bulk of a chest.
The next thing I knew I was lying in the frame of a wooden bed, on top of a green lumpy mattress, my eyes fixed on a point in a creamy coloured ceiling. I had woken up only minutes earlier to the blurriness of a room. I had rubbed my eyelids to get the debris of a rough sleep out of my eyes. The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes again was that I was not in my room, but in the shape of those that could only belong to a teenage boy.
For the next few minutes I lay on the bed in complete silence trying to figure out where I was and what exactly was going on. I contemplated on whether to get up and investigate what was happening downstairs or go back to my room and try to forget about the whole thing.
I still had no clue whose room I was in but whoever it was had a strange sense of smell. The room was covered in a thin fog of steam and dust that I could barely see the outline of the furniture. It was so over whelming that I couldn't even bear to think of all the possible reasons not to go outside and investigate.
I ran straight to a door on the other side of the bed and reached for the handle. It was not that hard to find like mine had been. The street lights outside the bedroom were glowing like a fire ball, lighting the street and surprisingly even the darkest corners of the bedroom.
I felt a gush of wind as the door brushed against my side as an attempt to get open. I softly stepped onto the dirty yellow carpet and trudged across the hall to where I came to a stop. The quiet darkness of the hall was scaring and thrilling. But it was not compared to the feelings I felt when I saw a faint outline of a person standing in front of the smashed window where the moon had stopped to spend the night