I’m awoken by the sound of the heavy door sliding open before a thud startles me enough to shoot up from the ground.
The door slams shut behind whomever was in here, and a gasp leaves my lips as my eyes finally focus.
Slade is passed out, covered in cuts, bruises, and blood.
“No,” I whisper, rushing to his side, “No, no. Wake up.”
I turn his face towards me and tears instantly well in my eyes, blurring his marred features.
“Please wake up, Slade,” I whimper, pressing my fingers against his throat, and the tears fall down my face as I feel his pulse thumping against my skin.
Gripping the hem of my shirt, I tear at the fabric until it gives way. I tear strip after strip until I’m barely covered below the apex of my thighs.
Blood seeps from the deep lacerations on his chest, and
