A doe and a dragon

s**t. She couldn't catch a f*****g brake could she? M.J. ran like all hell just broke loose. Her lungs burned, her mouth full of thick saliva and her face hot and probably red as a tomato by now. Gods knew she could and loved to run but this was too much even for her. Her skull felt like it was split open somewhere in the back of her head and her vision was progressivly more and more blurry with every stride. She could feel how her brain hurt inside her skull when her foot made contact with the ground with every step she took. That son of a b***h really slammed her hard. She wouldn't be surprised if there was a huge inprint in the shape of her body on the damn wall where she connected with it. She definitly had a concussion but that wasn't a priority right now. Saving her own life was. She needed to get as far away as possible and hide. What she just witnessed would probably haunt her for the rest of her life and yet she had to replay it in her mind over and over again to keep the memory of what she saw as fresh as possible for later. They just killed that kid. A little boy, no older than 8. Slit his throat like it was nothing. Like he was nothing. Right now there was no place on earth she could escape to that was far enough away that would make her feel safe. But she had to keep on running. She was a cop, she saw a lot of s**t and violence during her time working in human trafficking but she never witnessed a cold blooded murder up close and personal, ever. Especially that of a child. All she could hear in her head was the sound of the poor kid choking on his own blood. Even while she ran, panicked for her own survival she could hear it, clear as day, the muffled gurgling and weak coughs trying to escape from the boys throat. After Gods know how long she got a hold of a small forest next to a road leading to the south edge of town. She kept on running until she could see a run down hotel through the trees aproximately half a mile ahead. Half the letters of the neon sign up front were broken or blinking, probably because they haven't been changed or fixed since the hotel was first opened. It looked like a shithole, probably because it was one but she didn't have a choice. Her head hurt like crazy, she was so tired she could barely stand on her own feet thanks to the constant running and not sleeping properly for days. This would have to do for the night. She needed to rest, had to hide and lay low for a while. Tomorrow she would go and search for a different, more decent hotel, but right now all she desperately wanted and needed were 4 walls with a roof over them. She ran across the parking lot up to the front of the building, seeing that only a couple of parking spots were taken up by mostly old, rusty and run down vehicles. She burst inside, and briskly walked up to the front desk before hitting that bell like it was an arch enemy she was determined to crush. After a couple of moments of her nervously tapping her nails on the counter, chewing her lower lip while her legs shook from the adrenalin draining from her body she could see a man in his 60s lazily approaching the reception. He stank of cigarettes and whiskey, his plaid shirt half opened almost down to his bellybutton as he walked towards the front desk. "What do you want?" He spoke like she was there to beg and not to rent a room. "I need a room. Now." She tried to keep herself as calm as possible but her voice was shaky and she could barely stand because of the head wound she had. "You're out of luck, we are full for the night. Come back some other time." He spoke to her while turning around to leave her standing there, stranded. "Are you sure? I'm fine with whatever, I'll take one thats under construction if thats all you have, just...please, I really need a room." She tried to presuade him into renting her anything with 4 walls that could house her for the night while looking over her shoulder at the enterance, nervous about being followed. "Are you deaf? I said I have no rooms avaliable." He almost spat at her, looking her up and down, her Pink Floyd T-shirt stained with blood, her cargo pants full of dirt and mud. His tone struck a nerve with her. "Bullshit! There has to be at least one room avaliable in this shitty place, almost no one is parked up front!" She became agitated instantly because of what she considered to be an obvious lie from his part. "Listen here lady, I dont know what the hell you are going on about but we are full, mkay? As in we have zero free rooms. Now get lost before I call the cops and-" Before he could finish that sentence she pulled 200$ out of her back pocket and slamed them on the counter. "How about now?" She stared daggers at him while his eyes stared at the two 100$ bills on his front desk, her offer obviously changing his mind on the spot and making him think about rooms. He looked her in the eye, gave her a sleezy smile before reaching for the 200$ and turning around to grab a key from the key closet behind him. She snached the keys out of his hands as soon as they were in reach and headed back outside, to room 106 before he could change his mind or say something that would set her off. Fuck the money, she needed to live. But f**k him too. She needed that cash. She took a quick look through the glass door before slamming the door behind her and walking towards room 106. She located it in a couple of moments and looked over her shoulder once again before closing the door behind her and locking them. M.J. covered the windows after taking another quick glance outside just in case. After she saw nothing she pulled the curtains which cut off the lights coming into the room from the parking lot. She threw her backpack on the bed, not paying too much attention to the room before she opened the bathroom door to check if there were any windows in there. Luckly there weren't any but on the other hand that also eliminated a possible escape route in case she needed it. She was very carefull, thats why tonight was a surprise to her. She was usually very quiet and aware of her surroundings and the fact she was noticed and cought hurt her ego a bit. Not to mention her head. That soda can really blew her cover wide open. She took one last glance at the front door before she went inside the bathroom and started the shower. She needed to wash herself desperately. She tried to feel the back of her head with her fingers and she sharply inhaled through her teeth after touching the big bump that was now pulsating on the back of her skull. She looked at her hand and saw there was some blood on her fingertips but nothing major. Her head hurt like a motherfucker but she didn't think she needed any stitches. Gods damn it. After stripping all the dirt covered clothes off of her body she slowely stepped under the shower and tried to avoid the wound on her head while she washed her hair. It stung like a b***h but she didn't have a choice, she had to wash it to prevent it from getting infected. After a couple of minutes she shut the water off and stepped out of the shower, pulled on a pair of thights and realised she didn't have a spare T-shirt in her backpack. Greeeeat. The dirty, blood covered Pink Floyd one it was. She sat on the bed and looked aimlesly around the room she was in, not actually seeing anything that her eyes came across. The alarm clock on the nightstand said it was almost 1 AM and she felt like she would faint from exaustion at any moment. But the adrenalin still coursing through her body had other plans and it made her hypervigilant. She couldn't do anything but sit on the bed and stare at the door. At around 2 AM the adrenalin finaly started to release it's hold over her body and exaustion finaly set in. It felt like a damn freight train hit her body as she just shut down entirely. She tried to put her head on the pillow as gently as possible, trying to keep the concusion she had on the current level of butt-hurt and not to make it worse. It took her about 7 seconds to fall asleep like a log. Her body and mind were completly worn out and she slept for some time before she was pulled from her sleep by the sounds of a commotion somewhere outside the hotel. She smelled the air by rising her head high and taking a couple of fast wiffs of the air around her. She didn't smell anything other than the smell of burnt tires and asphalt coming from the parking lot up front. She couldn't hear exactly what the commotion was about, curtesy of the concusion she now sported. It seriously messed with her senses. She focused as much as she could and tried to isolate the voices that argued, probably at the front desk. All she could hear were snippets of sentences spoken, something involving a room and renting. After a couple of seconds it was silent again. The manager probably did the same thing he tried to do to her to someone else. After a couple of moments passed in silence she relaxed again a bit. Ironically she hated confrontations. It didn't matter if they involved her or not, they made her nervous and sometimes agressive. After a couple of more seconds of nothing she thought all was well and was thinking about going back to sleep. So imagine her surprise after the door to her room suddenly flew open like a car crashed into them. Startled, she jumped to her feet instantly and pressed her back against the wall, fully expecting to be met by the assholes she barely managed to run away from. But instead of those assholes there was a complety different asshole in the room, a huge, unfumiliar dark shadow looming in the doorframe. A T-rex sized asshole.