Thanks for your comments! I kept going, trying to incorporate some of your suggestions. I'm still open for much more. Let me know what you think, the bad and the good. I have an idea of where I am taking them though I am always up to hear what you think. Thanks for the support!
Ch. 2
He felt her heart slow and stop. The blood that had been flowing into him trickled to a stop. Finally he was able to rip himself away from her. Her body dropped like a wooden doll, crumpling in a heap at his feet. He was delirious. Years without food had ripped his mind from his body. Now life rushed to every fiber of his being. His body tingled and roared with strength and feeling. Nothing had ever felt like this. Her blood coursed through him. He was alive. More alive than he had ever felt. He let his head drop back and roared at the sky. His voice tore from his throat, a voice he had not used in so long, his triumphant voice. The wolves, nearing the pit, felt the ground rumble beneath them. They fled.
He looked at his hands, squeezing them to fists. He was alive. Blood had never felt like this. He looked down at the girl at his feet. She was young, terribly young. Her sweat matted hair stick to her face and armor. He knelt beside her lifeless form.
"You should not have fed me. You silly fool." He placed a hand on her cheek. The wound on her neck oozed slightly. He felt a pang of regret as his reason returned to him. He had not wanted to hurt his rescuer. He had tried to hold back. Whoever sent her into this pit knew she would not come out. He felt for a heartbeat. Maybe he had stopped himself in time. He removed the thick leather plate covering her chest exposing a sweat soaked shirt. His hand rested softly against her body which only moments before had been coursing with deep, delicious life. He held his breath and listened. Nothing. He pressed his hand deeper against her flesh. There. A flutter of life. That would have to be enough. He swung her limp form unto his shoulder. His hands dug into the earth at the side of his prison. The sting of the silver net that had held him for so long could not deter him now. He gazed up to freedom.
It had been three days. Following his nose, he found his way to a small ring of cabins. The smell of humans traveled far into the mountains. The forest had not changed since the time he had been lured there but his memory of that day was hazy. He had begun walking as soon as he hit daylight. The old growth forest offered him sweet reprieve from the rays of the sun. It took a full day to catch the scent of humans. The girl on his shoulder grew colder with every step. He had not stopped to consider what he would do when he reached humans, being too concerned that she would die or turn before he got there. He halted outside the clearing. He could leave her here. He had been giving her small drops of blood for days, not enough to turn her, just enough to keep her alive. If he left her here no doubt someone would call the police, see that she got medical attention. She needed a blood transfusion. He couldn't help her now. He didn't need to stay. He had done his part to repay her.
He lowered her to the ground. Her skin had turned ashen and gray. Her hair, matted when he had begun this journey, was caked in mud that covered them both. He looked into her quiet face. Even like this she was something to behold. Through the muck that covered her pale skin her face was beautiful. She was not quite human. No one could move like that. No one should still be alive after a complete draining. Who had sent her? They must have known she would die. She had not. He needed answers. Where would he start without any idea of what was going on? No, he would not leave. He picked her up in his arms, cradling her body to his chest. He felt strangely comfortable holding her this way, as if he were meant to. He stumbled into the clearing, purposefully putting on an exhausted limp.
"Help!" he cried, his voice coming out in a strangled call. "I need some help here!" He could smell humans in the far cabin. He headed for the door, careful not to move to fast and give up his façade.
The door flew open. A man with a large hunting rifle stood at the door, his eyes went wide at the scene before him: A large man, covered in mud and bits of forest, held a girl in his arms. Her limbs hung limply, no life at all. She had old blood caked on her neck and clothing. He did too. The man staggered and fell to his knees.
"Help," he called again. "She needs a doctor. Help!"
His wife flew to his side of the cabin and gasped at the pair outside their door. "John! What on earth..."
"Gretta, call the doctor," the man said, handing her his rifle. "Tell her it's bad."
John ran to the man kneeling in the dirt, holding the lifeless girl close to him. "It's alright, we got it. The doctor is a short ways a way but she'll be here soon." He slid his fingers around the girl's cold wrist, feeling for signs of life. He shuddered at the dead feeling of her skin. He looked up to the man's face. "It's alright buddy." He tried to be reassuring. The man looked weak and drawn. They must have been in the woods for days. The man's dark eyes were ringed with shadows and his skin was pale, almost as white as the girl's. John felt the slightest pulse under his fingers.
"She's alive!" he said. "Bring her inside. We have to get her warm." John reached over to take the girl from the exhausted man but her hugged her closer.
"I can manage," he said as he got up. John noticed his legs shook a little but he stood back and let him carry her into the cabin. He set her down on the couch next to the fire and collapsed next to her on the floor. Greta hung the phone up and raced in from the kitchen.
"She's on her way. She'll be here soon." Greta rushed over to the couch. The poor woman looked more dead than alive, as did her companion. "What happened?" she went and took a large quilt from the closet and draped it over the woman's body. The man held one of the woman's pale hands in his. Squeezing it miserably as if seeking her to respond.
"We were in the woods, hiking. She fell and I heard the most horrible sound." He stopped, taking a labored breath. "When I got to her the dog was on top of her. He bit her. I managed to chase him off but she wouldn't wake up. She hasn't woken up since." His voice sounded choked, wooden in his exhaustion. "I heard the pack of them and I ran. I was lost. That was three days ago."
John came over with a glass of water for the man. He drank it all in a moment. John went to refill it. Greta stroked the girl's hair from her face. "The doctor will put her right. Don't worry. We'll take care of you."
John came back with a large bottle of water and gave it to the man. "Now sip this," he said. "You don't want to get sick." The man nodded and complied. "What's your name, buddy?"
