SASHA WARREN

"There!" Sasha huffed, "goddamnit."

The lieutenant sighed, "not good enough. You need to work on your forensic reports."

Sasha sighed, retrieving the folder from his unforgiving fingers. She walked to her worn down car—that coughed while the started it up—and placed the folder on the passenger seat next to her. Tapping her fingers on the wheel, she waited until it felt right to pull out of the parking lot.

She'd found it weird that the lieutenant would try to find every little thing she did wrong. She was only new to the job as well.

Her thoughts lingered. Was she doing everything wrong? Do the detectives even want her? Trust her?

Her mind was in the wrong place, wrong time. It wasn't the best to be overthinking on a road, distracted. But she insisted on ruining her own sanity, while controlling a death machine. The highway felt slow. But then, the head lights come out of nowhere.

The blaring horns lasted too little for her to even react. Swerving, accelerating, then braking, she panicked. She hit every button on her interface. The tires screeched against the asphalt, her ears were ringing. She knew her fate, she knew it was the end.

So she let go of the wheel, closing her eyes, praying through her mind alone. Praying through the tear that fell onto her lap full of scattered glass. The airbag exploded, shooting out from the front of her, pushing the limited air left in her lungs. She'd only wished she'd gone about things differently, or taken a different way home.

The horns blared still, but she felt paralysed with pain. She world stopped then, and she could feel herself letting go.

Pain burned sharp in her ribs. Her vision tunneled, her fingers trembling as she tried to reach the door handle. Everything was fading.

The door groaned open with a sound too violent for human hands. The metal broken away from her arm.

Through the haze of her vision, she could make out a tall man. Dark hair.

Her lips parted, wanting to speak, but nothing came out.

"Fuck" the man sighed. He sounded fed up, rather than panicked. He sounded like this was a burden to him.

But it was low, urgent, and demanding, as if he had no choice to say this, "come on."

Sasha's eyelashes fluttered. She knew he shouldn't be here, let alone break away a part of the totaled car to reach her. She wanted to know who this man was. Was it Connor? The man who'd already saved her like a damsel in distress?

The man clenched his jaw, bringing his wrist to his mouth with hesitation, and biting it down so deeply, blood started to rush down from his mouth, and drip onto her already blood-scattered face. His eyes had a slight luminescence to them, which brought a sense of relief to Sasha's panicked mind.

He quickly pressed his sticky wrist against her sickly, chapped lips. "Drink. Or you die."

Instinctively, Sasha gulped the metallic, cold liquid down her throat. She had no choice but to listen to his words. She was almost dead anyway.

She'd recoiled, and the life poured back into a her after a few minutes. But the man left, leaving nothing but his blood on her crimsoned face.

And she'd lost it again, losing her thoughts in a black abyss.

—————————————

Sasha blinked her eyes open against the harsh, cold, lights of the hospital and looked down to a blue gown. She was barely even clothed except for this excuse of plastic trash.

She was in a hospital bed, looking around, she was surprised she could still function, or lift her arms up without a sling being wrapped around it. She expected purpled bruises, or an even a cast around her leg.

    "We're just as surprised as you are, Miss Warren." The greyed doctor said. He had a wide smile across his face, and he seemed to actually enjoy his job, "you are a miracle!"

Sasha smiled.

But faint flashes of the man at the crash came back to her. She questioned why she was even alive. What did she do to be spared twice?

She left with nothing—not even a scratch. No brain damage, nothing.

"I'm glad you're okay." Nickolas smiled, worried.

But she was oddly suspicious about the situation. How could have she left the car crash without a scratch? This was no miracle, she thought.

Something had to have happened between the crash and waking up in a thin blue gown. Her memory felt foggy, but there was one thing she could remember, sharp and clear.

Those beautiful, glowing blue eyes. They were piercing, unforgettable. The ones she saw when she gasped her last breath of oxygen, passing out.

But like everything, Sasha put it behind her. The only direction now, was to go forward. She wasn't going to linger around and try to figure out something she'd appreciated.

—————————————

Sasha thought, maybe after this miraculous catastrophe, the lieutenant would start to treat her better once she came back.

But no.

    "You okay now darl'?" Lieutenant said, "anyways, the detectives want you to come look at the evidence real quick."

    "Not even a week off?"

    "Come on now. Don't be greedy."

—————————————

"Another bite mark case?" Nickolas sighed, "this is getting out of hand!"

"There's only been two—calm down." She said.

"They're both different! Are these animals suddenly turning carnivorous? Selection pressures amirite?"

Sasha shot a look of distaste. "Sure."

"Well, the thing is—" Nickolas took a deep breath in, "the victim survived this time."

"And?"

"But she won't utter a word. Not one thing." Nickolas, "they've tried everything. She's silent. She was all wide eyes, staring into the plain wall jaw dropped and all. It was kinda freaky."

"The poor girl is traumatised. They should just give her some space." Sasha empathised, "still weird though right?"

"A bite in her collarbone. It almost looked like specialFX."

"What? We have rogue vampires now? Hilarious."

"Well," He muttered, lowering his voice and creeping closer to my ears to whisper, "they said it was a mountain lion."

"What? No."

"I know, I almost spit my water out," He continued, "the bite marks line up with its jaw measurements though. Two canines right into the clavicle."

"Well can we see her?"

"Weren't you the one who offered to leave her alone?"

"Look, we have a case to assist in, okay?"

"Okay whatever you say then!"

—————————————

They were right. It had to have been a mountain lion. I mean, nothing else matched—she thought.

"There were no mountain lions around though." Nickolas added.

"It can't have just targeted the one person."

Sasha looked over to the startled woman. "What's your name?"

Silence.

"What did you see?"

Her eyes widened, but her expression remained neutral. A mere squeal couldn't have been heard.

"Was it a... Did it look big?"

She scrunched her lips, closed her jaw tight, staring into the yellowed wallpaper.

"Were they an animal? A human?"

Her eyebrows frowned, as if she answered the question with a no.

"A human?"

It was quiet, but the clicking of Nick's pen interrupted the silence. "Give me that, you!"

Sasha snatched the pen, and opened a drawer to a notebook. "Can you draw what it looked like?"

The woman, with a shaken expression on her face trembled grabbing the supplies from Sasha's hands.

She drew like a psychiatric patient. It was messy, and hard to distinguish. It was rushed too. But then it started to come alone together. The messy lines began the sync and harmonise, and I could start to recognise the shapes. It was done with such detail, it was obvious the woman was an artist in her past life.

But Sasha noticed something.

That was not a mountain lion. It was a man!

The traumatised woman vibrated the notebook and pen into her hands. She continued to stare at the wall, blinking not once.

"Long curly hair. White hair?"

She nodded, ever so slightly.

"Aquiline nose, dark eyes? Was he of a tall stature?"

She answered with her eyes.

"He has.. uh... large canines?"

Her eyes widened, and her fingernails gripped her thighs this time.

Nick shot Sasha a disturbed look.

"Okay, thank you miss. We'll look into this."

—————————————

Nickolas spun around in one of the chairs in the forensic office rooms. "A case of the mentally disturbed."

"She drew it with such precision and memory, I'm not sure if this is one."

"Oh come on. She has schizophrenia can't you see?"

"A little—"

"Well? Case closed!"

Sasha wasn't finished speaking. She wanted to say something, but it was better if she kept her mouth closed so she didn't make a fool out of herself.