<i>Unfortunate </i>was a word he'd heard often.<br/><br/><i>Unlucky</i>was another, or more insultingly, bad luck.<br/><br/><i>Cursed </i>would have been a sneer used in the olden days, he was sure. People were more superstitious then, compared to now. Hexes were the murmurings of make-believe, in books and movies where witches cast spells in vengeance when they were wronged. But that didn't change the fact that even though the terminology developed, the meaning was the same.<br/><br/>Soon enough he began to learn the meaning<i>Unwanted</i>.<br/><br/>Either way, it didn't take long for people to consider him a bad omen, an undeniable accessory that attached itself to tragedy like a shadow, tainting everything he touched. Even without having to lift a finger. His presence was always enough.<br/><br/>He had to wonder why, though, as his body hit the floor of the high end bar he had been dragged to by insistent colleagues, the wailing of sirens always brought on a mixture of anxiety and excitement?<br/>That wasn't true, not really. A blatant lie wasn't his style, even in his own head. From an early age denial had never been allowed in the reality that was his world. The reason was as clear as a neon 'vacant' sign.<br/><br/>As the faces of nurses and the muffled voices of doctors tuned in and out, the only lingering thought remained on repeat like a never-ending record:<br/><br/>Perhaps, this time, he would come for<i>me</i>.<br/><br/>****<br/><br/>"He doesn't look too good. You sure you didn't swap it with something else?"<br/><br/>"Like hell I did, you fucktard! It's the same shit we always use, and we've never had a problem like this! What the fuck did you do?"<br/><br/>"I didn't do anything! I followed the plan; flirted and buttered him up, kept his eyes on me. He was damn interested too, we might not have even needed the shit."<br/><br/>Cael's head felt heavy, foggy. The tiled floor was hard on his back, and he swore there was bruising forming on his tailbone. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't move to sit up. He couldn't move his body at all, from fingers to his toes to even blinking, even when he willed himself hard enough. Funny, the first voice sounded like the guy who had approached him at the counter when his coworkers ditched him to go dance. The man had such pretty blue eyes, piercing like a deep blue ocean. A thick cut jaw had lined his handsome face, with high cheekbones that were prominent as if chiseled there. That had always been a weakness of his.<br/><br/>"Guys, he's not moving! Shit! Fuck! What do we do??" came a third voice. This was getting ridiculous, how many of them were there? He was perfectly fine. Lucid, even. His head had simply hit the floor too hard in his fall, so his vision was jumbled around. No big deal.<br/><br/>...almost.<br/><br/>"We need to scram, NOW."<br/><br/>"What?? Dude I ain't no criminal! We need to call an ambulance!" at least the first voice, even without it's flirtatiousness, was considerate of his well being.<br/><br/>"And get arrested for slipping him something? You wanna go to jail?!" the second one not so much.<br/><br/>"Fuck, we gotta move, the bartender's coming!" there was the sound of rushing footsteps, but also the tickle of a panicked breathing voice close to his ear. "Sorry man....didn't mean to fuck you up like this. Just wanted to show you a good time." and with that, the three were gone, leaving him laying there in a corner booth with rave lights blurring in with shadows that began to surround him.<br/><br/>The pain began in his chest, his breathing too laboured and his heartbeat banging against his ribcage like a taiko drum. The limbs he no longer had control over began to numb, even though his forehead felt like it was on fire. Despite his eyes being open, he couldn't properly see the world around him, everything blurring into blots of colour like an impressionist painting.<br/><br/>That was when he heard the familiar clinking of hooks, the scratchy voices from radios, and the subtle feel of straps across his body that bound him to a stretcher. Bright orbs of light flashed in his eyes, yet at whatever questions he knew the EMTs posed, his mouth was dry. Where were they taking Cael? He wasn't supposed to consumed alcohol with his current medication, but he had specifically ordered a coke. Where had it gone wrong? Tired of being alone, he had accepted the advances propositioned to him, even thought about abandoning his traitorous friends to hitch a ride him with him. God knows how long it's been since he followed a guy to spend the night at his place.<br/>His body rocked back and forth, the siren's blaring loud against his sensitive eardrums. How long they rang in his ears, Cael couldn't say, though it felt like the better half of an eternity before they stopped and a breeze hit his face like a cutting knife. Couldn't they invent better stretchers that didn't rattle their patient so uncomfortably?<br/><br/>Despite the air of desperation surrounding every sense still available, Cael still felt entirely too sleepy. The hands were much too rough with him, jostling him about and pricking him with sharp objects. Bright lights above blinded him, firing his eyelids to squint from the brightness. Even in his sleepy state they had the audacity to shove something entirely too large down his throat, making him want to gag. Really, if they let him sleep this off, he'll be right as rain by morning, as always. Nothing kept the young brunette down for long.<br/><br/>All he needed to do what close his eyes for a little while, and sleep.<br/><br/>Quietness settled over him, a soothing sensation.<br/><br/>Sleep was good.<br/><br/><div class="bbCodeSpoiler">
<button class="bbCodeSpoiler-button button--longText button" data-xf-click="toggle" data-xf-init="tooltip" title="Click to reveal or hide spoiler" type="button"><span class="button-text">
<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">Cael</span></span>
</span></button>
<div class="bbCodeSpoiler-content">
<div class="bbCodeBlock bbCodeBlock--spoiler">
<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">
<script class="js-extraPhrases" type="application/json">
			{
				"lightbox_close": "Close",
				"lightbox_next": "Next",
				"lightbox_previous": "Previous",
				"lightbox_error": "The requested content cannot be loaded. Please try again later.",
				"lightbox_start_slideshow": "Start slideshow",
				"lightbox_stop_slideshow": "Stop slideshow",
				"lightbox_full_screen": "Full screen",
				"lightbox_thumbnails": "Thumbnails",
				"lightbox_download": "Download",
				"lightbox_share": "Share",
				"lightbox_zoom": "Zoom",
				"lightbox_new_window": "New window",
				"lightbox_toggle_sidebar": "Toggle sidebar"
			}
			</script>
<div class="bbImageWrapper lazyload js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="/proxy.php?image=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.franciscolachowski.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2016%2F02%2FFrancisco-Lachowski-PMA-Promod-Polaroids-1.jpg&amp;hash=d37bc15f217f72499e125cb96286403d" title="Francisco-Lachowski-PMA-Promod-Polaroids-1.jpg">
<img alt="Francisco-Lachowski-PMA-Promod-Polaroids-1.jpg" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="/proxy.php?image=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.franciscolachowski.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2016%2F02%2FFrancisco-Lachowski-PMA-Promod-Polaroids-1.jpg&amp;hash=d37bc15f217f72499e125cb96286403d" data-url="http://www.franciscolachowski.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/Francisco-Lachowski-PMA-Promod-Polaroids-1.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" style="" title="" width=""/>
<noscript><img alt="Francisco-Lachowski-PMA-Promod-Polaroids-1.jpg" class="bbImage" data-url="http://www.franciscolachowski.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/Francisco-Lachowski-PMA-Promod-Polaroids-1.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="/proxy.php?image=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.franciscolachowski.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2016%2F02%2FFrancisco-Lachowski-PMA-Promod-Polaroids-1.jpg&amp;hash=d37bc15f217f72499e125cb96286403d" style="" title="" width=""/></noscript>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="25" data-username="@Nevermind" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/25/">@Nevermind</a>