|ʀᴀғᴇ ᴊɪᴍéɴᴇᴢ. (maginus) wrote in repose,|
@ 2020-05-12 12:10:00
|Entry tags:||*narrative, *text, aubrey rois, rafe jiménez|
Narrative / Text: Aubrey R.
[It's exactly 0300 hours when Rafe bolts upright in the bed, snapped out of a habitually light sleep by a sound that doesn't belong. Something alien and unwelcome, an intrusion on territory that is well and truly (and solely) his.
It's a low sound, a rolling rumble, like localised thunder. A growl.
Rafe answers with one of his own.
His eyes are wolf-bright as they search the room, seeking anything out of place in every single dark corner and crevice of the room. The sound is here, and it comes again. And there's a creak. A groan in the floorboards. It sounds like weight shifting but there's nothing distinct about it. Rafe can't pin it down.
He's up and out of the bed then, bare feet on the floorboards making barely a whisper of sound. From somewhere in the house comes another one of those ominous groans and then a thud. A bang. Like something solid hitting a wall. Rafe is reminded jarringly, vividly, of Carl's body flying backwards and leaving a shocking crack after impacting. The memory falls away when there are footsteps, rapid-fire, booming down the hall. Something moving past at speed.
The strength in his grip isn't fully checked when he yanks the door open to catch an intruder who simply isn't there and Rafe growls again. Irritated. Frustrated. Confused. The wolf is restless and discontent, wanting to track and hunt and kill this enemy who dares to set foot where it doesn't belong but there is nothing to track, nothing to hunt. Nothing to kill.
From behind him in his room there is another growl but it is not one of his. It rattles through the air and as the clock on his nightstand flicks from 03:00 to 03:01 it all just stops. Ended. Just like that. Silence falls and lays heavily and there is nothing at all, just Rafe's heavy breaths as he stands tense and tight in the open doorway seeing and hearing and smelling nothing at all.
He is alone. And yet he is not. And it doesn't make a bit of sense.
His phone is on the nightstand and he's snatched it up in his hand without thinking, punching in and sending a text just as automatically and thoughtlessly. It's only after the delivery confirmation blinks up next to the message that he recognises what he has done and by then it's too late to take it back.]
[Odds are if he wasn't before the message came through, he is now.]