[center][h2][color=indianred]Racheli[/color][/h2]
Location: Sherman Rise Apartments within Sherman Square, Lost Haven
Time: After Dark (Night) [/center]

Racheli tossed and turned in her sleep. Her body sucked into a swirling memory that quickly became a twisted nightmare, worsened by her discomfort and sickness. Sweat drenched her skin, the apartment seriously hot as fuck and sheets sticking to her skin, entangling her with each movement. Her breathing had become labor though the door still muffle the sounds. 

[i] Oregon wildness...nineteen years ago.

Her arm had a deep gash, torn from  hitting the bank too hard, as she hopped up the short stairs to the porch. The eight year's tennis shoes clipped up fast on the concrete steps, reaching the screen door in two as she pushed it open. The hinges made a loud screech and groan, her injure hand held close, while she quickly shoved her way inside. Rach had been about to make a beeline to the bathroom before a deep, husky voice stopped her in her tracks.

"What happened, baby girl?" 

Biting her lip, the child's head tilted upward and looked at the man standing at the kitchen sink. Tears made her vision blurry yet she held back from crying, noting her father's concerned look. In his late thirties, his short shoulder length hair was messy and tied into a ponytail. His sleeves rolled up to his  elbows and hands being scrubbed clean by the gritty  soap bar. Finishing his hands and patting them dry, he fixed her with greenish eyes and seemed to command an answer to his question.

Rach's feet made an uncomfortable shuffle. After a few moments, she pulled her braided head toward her father while she held the wounded arm behind her.[color=indianred]"Nothing. Just a scratch, daddy."[/color]

His eyes narrowed on her shoulder where she pushed her arm from out of sight. The man sighed. Hand set the towel upon the sink edge, his body crouching down on one knee as he held out his hands for her. "Hand me your arm, Racheli. Let me look at it."

Hesitantly, the child relaxed then edged her arm from hiding behind her back and presented it to her father. He shifted on his knees then gently twisted the wound to face him. Lips pressing tightly, his eyes moved to look at her  for a moment. Rach licked her lips nervously as she waited for his interrogation, trying not to flinch at the stinging in her wound. 

"Go sit down at the kitchen table, Racheli. I'll get the first aid kit." Her dad said as he rose to his feet, twisting her about and patted her ass toward the chair. "Now, kiddo."

Racheli pouted but did as she was told. She plopped back into the wooden chair seat while she held her arm out, still covered in grit and dirt from her accident. Watching his figure vanish shortly, his voice hollered past the rustling, reaching over his efforts to seek the kit out. "So, honest answer, Rach. Where were you playing when you got that cut?" 

[color=indianred]"In the backyard."[/color] Racheli lied, her teeth chewing her mouth inside. Part of her knew better but she was scared to tell the truth, knowing she didn't belong playing around the creek nearby. Even if it was a twenty minutes hike from their cabin, her father wasn't fond of her playing there despite the heat being blistering hot. 

"I see." He thoughtfully said, his figure now padding into the kitchen. "Then why is there sand in your wound?" 

In a few moments she heard him set out the red bag, his hands quickly sorting out the gauze, medical tape, antibacterial ointment and wrap to keep the bandage protected. She hadn't looked him in the eyes though. 

He had caught her in a lie, a fact she knew better, and waited to be grounded. Instead her father just moved her arm and started to dope it up. He walked over to the sink, wetting down a rag then wring out the water's excess, before moving back to the table. Wiping and patting the rag over the wound, Rach hissed in pain. She tried to jerked her arm from her father's grasp but he held it tightly. "Rach, don't move. If I don't clean this then it will get infected and we need to go to the clinic. Do you want that?" 

Rach shook her head. 

"Good, now please. Stay still." He asked her and started to pat the wound clean. 

She had trouble trying not to wiggle out and squirm, her tennis shoes tucked hard under her chair in stubbornness. Shortly he moved on to apply a generous amount of ointment, making her flinch again. Finally he wrapped the gauze, taped it, and pulled over a wrap to protect the gauze from being shredded in her future activities.

"There. Now," he started as he rose up and began to clean the supplies up, "let that wound be a lesson that when I say not to play at the creek, you should listen to your father." 

[color=indianred]"Yes sir."[/color] 

She was looking at her feet, ashamed and embarrassed when her father ruffled her head. "Go play and stay away from the creek, okay, Racheli? And never lie to me again or you're grounded."

Racheli  nodded when she hopped off the chair. On the way back out the screen door, she paused long enough to hear her father's gentle voice say one last thing. "Love you, baby girl." [/i]

Racheli jerked awake. 

Her breath labored and raspy, throat dry as hell, when she sat upright. Her arms propping herself up in bed and her legs shifted over to the mattress edge, pulling to the floor. Gingerly she forced herself upright, her right arm trying to balance from falling over. A few careful steps later she made it to the door and leaned onto the frame. Her body felt like it was on fire, each movement made her flinch and scream inside her already pounding head. Damn, hell was nothing like this she hissed in her thoughts. 

Inhaling hard, she lowered her hand to twist open the handle. It clinked thankfully easy and popped open. Her body edged out of her room, using the wall to guide herself to the kitchen. The bathroom would've been faster, however he 

Her hand on her throat, it took all her effort to remain standing and not flat out collapse. It was hazy how she managed to make it there and not throw up, her cough rattling her chest when she lifted her hand to her mouth. Something wet and stick immediately landed on her palm which she rises off into the sink, the dark reddish tainting the water while it vanished down the drain. 

[color=indianred]"Fuck..."[/color] Racheli croaked, her head leaning into the cheap, marble surface. The water left running and her hand was left under it, her only relief. "What the hell did I catch?" 

She cupped some fluid in her palm and slurped it up, her skin still damp from sweating like a pig. Even opening the window in her room hadn't helped in the least, the heat escaping into the wintry night, and made the apartment's temperature dive about several degrees. She knew her room mate would bitch but she didn't give a shit because of how crappy she felt. 

Muffle sounds and cries caught her attention, dampened by the thick apartment door. Someone was screaming than shouting causing Racheli to jerk off the water. Her eyes narrowed upon the source while she wobbled toward it. 

All hell chose then to break loose. 

Racheli had barely made it toward the door when a low sound started to rumble and cackling. It echoed through the apartment causing Racheli to pause. Her eyes narrowed and her weight shifted harder upon the counter. [color=indianred]"What the fuck..?"[/color]

Before she could finish.. The door dropped onto the floor with a heavy thump. A thick, tall figure, cloaked in a duster stood just behind the frame. His face was covered by both doo rag over his head and his lower jaw covered by a small [url=https://maskergaskeren.files.wordpress.com/2010/10/gas_mask___wallpaper_by_fneh.jpg] mask[/url] that appeared to be recreated to inhale, each breath expelling in a mechanical hiss. Built like a brick wall with thick limb, his boots stepped over the door and duck his just over 6 foot figure inside. 

The dark skinned thug cracked his gloved knuckles while he turned his head to Racheli. She was hunched over and leaning against the counter edge still, struggling not to pass out.