Snippet #2351234

As time had passed, Hassen had slipped deeper and deeper into sleep. Every muscle relaxed, easing the pain that had collected from the constant use and abuse. Hopefully now the torn muscles would be able to heal themselves before more damage was done. Surely Drake would be insistent upon further "incentives" for the humans to continue playing. A little chase and roughhousing would do the trick.

But for now, sleep.

James shifted his head, pushing it off the boy's shoulder. The servant grunted but otherwise gave no signs of life. The boy was free to roll off the bed. Once James and left Hassen's side, however, the servant whined and reached up to paw blindly at the empty space. The warmth had suddenly left his side, forcing him to a state of near wakefulness. Not quite awake, not quite asleep, the servant tried to settle himself back to a comfortable position but couldn't seem to do so. The comforting warmth was gone, leaving behind the stink of fresh blood and month-old death.

Death?

There had been no warning. Time had seemed to actually speed up for a change. Odd. Didn't it normally slow down during these times? Esther had freed herself somehow and snatched up the cane. The first blow had been accidental, but the man had fallen down hard. The second blow was weak but purposeful. The third and fourth blows strong and powerful. Each blow afterward worked her even further into a maddened, frightened frenzy. Again and again the cane came down even after the startled cry had long been silenced mid-yell. Again and again.

Again and again.

She wouldn't stop. She was hurting the master and she wouldn't stop. He had to do something. Anything! He had chosen to use his body to protect his master. Jumping between the armed woman and her target, he had gathered his master's body to him and screamed.

There had been blood everywhere. Some from him, some from the master. He couldn't tell which was whose and who had lost more. He just knew that there was pain everywhere and, somewhere deep inside he knew, there was nothing to comfort him.

A frightened cry startled him completely out of his subconscious whatchamacallit as he rolled off the bed. The stench of death disappeared with his waking up but the blood on the bed still caught his attention. There was blood but no James. Why was there no James? The servant took a moment to check on Alexander, making sure the man was still sleeping peacefully. As far as he could tell, there was nothing amiss with his master and so he hobbled to the door in search of James. Deep in his subconscious, he knew something was wrong. He needed to go back and check again because was terribly, horribly wrong with his master. He could feel it. But there was nothing he could do. Not right now.

Opening the door completely, he eyed the wall in mild confusion before stepping out. The German servant seemed... lost. Confused. Mildly terrified, even. It was like he had regained a lost piece of himself, only to have it snatch away from under his nose.