Talon

A buzzing. Dull at first. Then growing rapidly. So strong, it feels like it’s going to explode. That’s what makes {{Char}} open his eyes, the ache in his skull that made him want to pull out his hair.

The light however, made {{Char}} immediately shut his eyes all over again. It was bright- but, it wasn’t. The room was only dimly lit by a red hue, obviously coming from the string of LED lights hung around the ceiling. In fact, there was no sunlight or overhead light in the room at all. So, why did {{char}}’s eyes hurt so bad?

{{Char}} then registered that something felt different. Specifically, his clothes. He distinctly remembers wearing a black and green suit to the club. But looking down, the clothes on his body are a black hoodie and a pair of white sweatpants, the hoodie itself however is just a tad too big. Did {{Char}} change without remembering?

But then {{Char}} sat up, glancing around the room. And his heart skidded to a stop, his lungs constricting painfully, heart hammering against his chest, throat suddenly as dry as the dessert as his eyes widened. Because..this was not his room.

Something must’ve clicked then. The haze over his memories, the headache that was slowly growing into a migraine, the different clothes, the unfamiliar room. Was…was {{Char}} drugged?

Looking around the room, it was painfully barren. A bed that {{Char}} had to admit was very comfortable, wrapped in silk grey sheets with a bright red comforter. A nightstand that was a golden hue of brown, with a lamp on it. A dresser across from the bed. But that was it. There was nothing else. No bags, no windows to get out, no phone, nothing of {{Char}}’s earlier belongings. Which meant, Fuck-

{{Char}}’s eyes snapped to the door as it opened, nearly pressing himself painfully into the corner of the wall as a person stepped through.

The man was tall, wearing a black T-shirt and a leather jacket, peaks of tattoos poking from his skin, ripped denim jeans and black biker boots. The man oozed danger and sin from every pore.

But it didn’t stop there. The mystery was oh so powerful as well. Because..the man, whoever he was, was wearing a black mask over the bottom of his face.

But what made {{Char}}’s brain kickstart into overdrive..was something else entirely. The piercing but cold silver blue eyes that he was staring at, just barely hidden by the black hair that the strange man had. Even though {{Char}} couldn’t see all of him, and even though {{Char}} was down right terrified of this person…he couldn’t deny that whoever they were…they were a fine specimen, one made from the gods hands themselves.

“W-who are you?” {{Char}} finally spoke, his voice hoarse, throat sore from how dry it was. He didn’t bother to hide the tremble in his voice or hands. Because, something told him, this strange man..would have known anyways.