[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/ZnOpQuF.png[/img]
[indent][h3][sub][sub][b]Location: NYC, Agency 
             	   Time of Day: Morning Next Day [/b][/sub][/sub][/h3][/indent] [/center]
[hr]

Within the alleyway. 

Ben found it hard to focus. With each passing moment, his mind slipped in and out of consciousness as the fight continued within the alley. Everything seemed surreal when the wolf started to bounce off the walls to maneuver around the tight space and lash back at the man around his age, carrying a fucking sword of all things. Suddenly two adults turned up in a jeep to join the mayhem, the hispanic woman (at least he thought) pulled a deadly looking and pop the wolf in a obvious head shot. It should’ve killed him, but it didn’t. The wolf merely shook his head then snarled in frustration, his figure darted forward and over them. 

He didn’t like this sensation of weakness as the virus rampaged and worked its hell on his systems. His vision became double almost immediately after Casper arrived causing the teenager to sway. Sweat started to bead across his pale skin and energy seemed to vanish from his body, his suit literally stuck to his very surface like a second skin. Pins and needles shot up his limbs, collected mainly at his joints and tendons, with each movement causing a new flare of pain. His muscles became jello, too flimsy to work correctly. He tried to move only to have the world start to spin and create instant nauseous, followed by a sourness that spoiled and stung the back of his throat. 

His arm jerked out to press against the wall and to aid his warped sense of balance. No success. Ben knew he was going down no matter what and it pissed him off, his fingers curled and dug deeper into the brick wall. His head tilted upright to see Casper’s sword when it penetrated the wolf’s abdomen. The sensation of wetness and warmth dotted his face. He gradually realized it was the wolf’s blood as his free hand reached up to touch it, trembling at the fact for reasons he didn’t understand. There was a brief wave of hurt which melted into fury at the end result. 

Just before Ben hit the ground, his upper lip raised in a soft growl at Casper. His shoulder impacted upon the alley floor as the filth and wetness seeped into his clothes, the boy’s feverish body prevented him from feeling the cold. His breathing was harsh with each inhale while black crept along his vision’s edges drawing in fear at what was happening to him. Finally.. darkness swallowed him completely.

[center][u]Morning the Next Day[/u][/center] 

Ben’s eyes snapped wide open. 

Cold sweat drenched his pale skin and aches settled in his joints, the only evidence of the virus that had ravished his system most the night. For several moments he didn’t move. [i]Where am I?[/i] Ben thought through the confusing haze, his eyes squinted through the harsh light over head and raised a hand to shield himself from it. The scene back in the alley flickered in and out in his mind, like a fiction movie taped by an amateur. Gradually, he started to recall the last thing that happened before the present in pieces. An alleyway, a large dog of sort… then blood, pain and more as it started to come together, his adrenaline beginning to override the grogginess in his head. 


Immediately his eyes flickered to his shoulder and expected to see it all bundled up in padding and gauze. Surprisingly, there was nothing wrong with it. Ben blinked and then stared harder at his intact shoulder. He tested his shoulder, studying each movement he put it through. He rotating it forward then back and finally reached his other hand to tenderly poke the area. His gut stirred uneasily about the experience and he recalled everything so vividly that was impossible to have been merely a nightmare. The boy was starting to wonder if he was losing his grip on reality, his eyes turned to examine the room itself instead for a distraction over the thought.  

It was the worst place possible in his opinion worst. Of all places, why did he end up in a hospital room when he clearly wasn’t injured? It didn’t make sense in the least to him. It didn’t help that the memories of his mother lying in a comatose state, helpless and immobile, surfaced into his attention. His still queasy stomach started to flip backwards several times, enough of a reason for him to decide to get the hell away from this place. Benjamin turned to flip over the edge only to clash with the metal, guard bar blocking his way. Annoyance crossed his facial features as he tried another tactic. 

He used the railing to pull himself upright and then removed the heart monitor from his finger, next came the wiring tapped to his chest. Shortly they all, alongside with the sheets, were tossed upon the floor in a hasty pile. The machine made a loud blare, likely alerting the nurses to something having gone wrong. Not the wisest action on his part, but Ben didn’t care. He wanted to get away from this room as fast as possible. 

He managed to reach the edge, his right foot edged forward and touched the sole to it. A chill from the tile reached him and felt pleasant to him causing the boy to press more weight into the attempt to stand. At seeing his leg remain upright, he tossed caution to the wind and brought his other foot to the ground. It was a mistake as the moment he did, his legs gave out from under him. Ben smacked heavily into the hard floor when his knees folded up causing his hands to jerk out in front of him and save his face from impacting.  

Inhaling, Ben’s ears caught the sounds of someone opening the door then enter the room. His heart seemed to have frozen in place thanks to the sense of dread as his head turned to see a young boy around his age walk casually in, his arms holding more casual clothes. It suddenly made Ben very aware he was draped in nothing but a hospital gown and his boxers.