Content Warning

Greetings and Salutations.
Because my stories have bite, they can contain content that isn't suitable for work or children. Not a lot of truly graphic sex or violence, but there are some questionable or heated posts. F-bombs are not uncommon, so watch your footing.

Friday, December 17, 2010

#FridayFlash Karl the wulfen - 7

He'd barely opened his eyes when Jenny was at his side.  "You really awake this time?"  Her slender hand rested on his forehead, and Karl recognized the feel of her bed.

"Maybe," the wulfen groaned.  The bedside lamp made his eyes water, forcing them closed.  "How long-"  Pain surged, cutting him off.  Recovering from silver poisoning took time, and was never easy.

"Only a day.  You tried to get up after a few hours, but fell down."  Jenny traced his jaw.  "I've got orange juice if you're staying up."

Karl's head throbbed, his wounds stiff and achy.  Reopening his eyes didn't hurt, so he sat up.  Jenny supported him through a brief moment of vertigo. Once he was stable, she offered him a glass.

He chugged the pulpy juice, grateful for a considerate lover.  Sweet and kind-hearted, she couldn't hurt a fly.  She'd accepted the beast that he was, even growing curious about his nature.  Jenny gave him hope that humanity wasn't a bad race.

"I'm sorry about showing up like this," he said, handing her the empty glass.  Karl was naked under her yellow sheets, his wounds wrapped in cotton bandages.  She'd managed him all alone, the petite woman somehow getting him cleaned and undressed.

"No problem."  She kissed his forehead, rising.  "Let me get you some more juice, and you tell me what happened."  Her hips swayed as she left the room.

Jenny lived in a small house, easy enough for his voice to carry to the kitchen.  "The clan was attacked.  Everyone is gone."  Karl suddenly needed to pee, and slowly rose from the bed.  "I'm tracking their killers."  Keeping a hand on the wall, he made his shaky way to the bathroom.

Family photos hung on every wall of the bedroom, and the wulfen looked at them to distract from the pain.  Jenny with grandparents, as a child, at a park.  Her dead parents, her cousins, her older sister.

Just before he entered the bathroom, a photo of her as a teen with several teen boys caught his attention.  She wore pigtails, grinning as she knelt beside a young buck.  The youths around her had guns and knives, proud of their first kill

Touching her shoulder was a young Magazine.  He was huge even in his youth, imposing and muscular.

"It'll be easier if you don't fight," Jenny said, leveling a hunting rifle at his chest.