Post by phillip thomas levens on Jan 31, 2023 22:42:55 GMT -5
“
Pain, pain, so much pain.
A blinding pain, one that radiated from a specific spot and spread across every inch of his body. Phillip could think of nothing else; the blood dripping down his side from where his arm had once been was a distant thought, overshadowed by the agony that consumed him. Phillip wasn't sure how he was conscious, let alone up and moving, but even that was an afterthought, eclipsed totally by the shock and pain he was in.
Somehow, Phillip had managed to escape the masquerade. How, he wasn't sure. After seeing Xander fall, and the curse that collided with his shoulder and sent him in one direction and his arm in the other, Phillip didn't remember much. It was fuzzy, taken over by pain and fear. He had climbed through the hole blown in the manor's wall, he remembered, and he'd nearly been vampire food more than once, but somehow he'd made it to the manor's boundary and apparated away.
Besides the pain, there was only one thought on Phillip's mind. Anastasia. She lived in London, would be spending a quiet Christmas Eve alone in her flat. She would be at the epicenter of Death's destruction of the world. He had to find her, had to get her out, had to make sure she was safe. Phillip had failed Xander, had failed to save his friend, but he would not fail Ana.
By some miracle, Phillip managed to land in Anastasia's apartment. As panicked and pained as he was, Phillip wouldn't have been surprised if he had splinched himself, landed in the wrong place, or worse. But no, the kitchen he landed in was definitely his friend's.
Phillip stumbled as soon as he landed, reaching out to steady himself against the counter. But, with a jolt, Phillip remembered—or maybe realized, for he wasn't entirely sure he was aware of the gaping wound in his shoulder beyond the pain until that moment—that he no longer had an arm to catch him. He fell to the floor with a strangled half-groan, seeing spots as renewed agony spiked through him.
"Ana," Phillip breathed, already trying to force himself back up. But he fell again, his remaining hand going to the wound on his shoulder.
A blinding pain, one that radiated from a specific spot and spread across every inch of his body. Phillip could think of nothing else; the blood dripping down his side from where his arm had once been was a distant thought, overshadowed by the agony that consumed him. Phillip wasn't sure how he was conscious, let alone up and moving, but even that was an afterthought, eclipsed totally by the shock and pain he was in.
Somehow, Phillip had managed to escape the masquerade. How, he wasn't sure. After seeing Xander fall, and the curse that collided with his shoulder and sent him in one direction and his arm in the other, Phillip didn't remember much. It was fuzzy, taken over by pain and fear. He had climbed through the hole blown in the manor's wall, he remembered, and he'd nearly been vampire food more than once, but somehow he'd made it to the manor's boundary and apparated away.
Besides the pain, there was only one thought on Phillip's mind. Anastasia. She lived in London, would be spending a quiet Christmas Eve alone in her flat. She would be at the epicenter of Death's destruction of the world. He had to find her, had to get her out, had to make sure she was safe. Phillip had failed Xander, had failed to save his friend, but he would not fail Ana.
By some miracle, Phillip managed to land in Anastasia's apartment. As panicked and pained as he was, Phillip wouldn't have been surprised if he had splinched himself, landed in the wrong place, or worse. But no, the kitchen he landed in was definitely his friend's.
Phillip stumbled as soon as he landed, reaching out to steady himself against the counter. But, with a jolt, Phillip remembered—or maybe realized, for he wasn't entirely sure he was aware of the gaping wound in his shoulder beyond the pain until that moment—that he no longer had an arm to catch him. He fell to the floor with a strangled half-groan, seeing spots as renewed agony spiked through him.
"Ana," Phillip breathed, already trying to force himself back up. But he fell again, his remaining hand going to the wound on his shoulder.
Phillip Thomas
Levens★
Levens★
dandy ♫
