In The Basement

"Do you think she's dead?" Said a voice above me. It sounded male, though I wasn't going to assume anything anymore, not after the business with the glowing bird. It spoke with a Welsh lilt and made me feel safe, like it belonged to the older brother I had always wished for.

"Of course's she not! She's breathing isn't she?" A second voice asked. This one was higher, perhaps female, or a young boy; though the accent was American.

"There's a lot of blood though."

"Well, then, why don't you do something about it, smartie?"

I did feel the t-shirt being, gently, pulled away from the cut on my head, and then something soft pushing against the bleeding, which had started again. I wondered how long I had been out. It can't have been that long, but how was I to know?  I decided that it was time to find out who the voices belonged to.

I slowly opened my eyes and immediately closed them again. I hadn't gotten a good look at the face staring at me, but I saw enough to know that it was definitely not human.

The End

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