In the Claws of an Angel

"Stay..."

"You're safe..."

"Don't be afraid..."

"Listen..."

"He is..."

"Safe..."

"Don't go..."

"Anabelle..."

"Ana...."

"......"

"......"

"ANA."

~~

I woke up with a jolt, sitting upright in total darkness.

It was quiet... I didn't know where I was... The only thing I could hear was the sound of my jagged breathing, and crickets faintly chirping.

I was chilled to the bone from the cool air outside, seeping its way into wherever I was. It pierced through my jacket, and I wrapped the fabric tighter around me. It wasn't much help, though... Shivers still quaked my body, erupting from my ribcage.

"Hello...?" I whispered breathlessly.

Someone had been talking to me; a man, I think... But maybe it was a dream.

When no one spoke back, I figured that was probably the answer... It was just a dream. But it seemed so real...

Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I looked around at the small, unfamilier space I was in... And that's when my memory started to come back to me.

The bar, the attack, the parking lot... The man that had saved my life... And that blue truck with the camper. That was the last thing I could remember, that's where I had to be.

My body was sprawled on a compact, sort of scratchy couch, and next to it sat a tiny table with a single drawer.

Ontop of the table was a bendable desk lamp, and a digital clock that read 2:13 AM in neon red numbers and letters. How long had I been out...?

As I asked myself this question, my heart and head started to pound at the same time. I winced at the sharp pain in my head, but focused more on my heart... I closed my eyes for a second, but all I could see were images of that mysterious stranger, and the blades between his knuckles...

I wondered why he saved me, and where he was... As I caught sight of a small ladder that led up to a loft off to my right, I figured I had an answer to half of my question.

I stood up, taking in the rest of my surroundings. Next to the ladder and underneath the only window was a table with two booth style seats on each side. On the front wall was a door, in the corner to the left of it rested a mini fridge. Then on the wall adjacent the table and window was a set of cheap wooden cabinets, another small couch, and a door I assumed led to a bathroom. My duffle bag sat safely next to it.

All of a sudden, I was overcome with cabin fever. I slowly crept my way toward the front door, halting as the floorboards creaked under my feet. I heard a body sleepily shift up in the loft, and then there was peaceful quiet again.

I glanced over my shoulder just to make 100% sure I hadn't been caught, then released a tense breath that I'd been holding. My fingers grasped the brass doorknob, twisted it to the left, and popped it open.

A cool gust of air rushed inside and stole a gasp from my lips, cutting right through me, down to the bone. Now it felt like my jacket was almost nonexistant, but I ignored the cold and stepped out onto the dewy grass.

As I shut the door behind me and turned around, my hunch was proven right... I had been inside the camper attached to that old blue truck. It was parked in the middle of a vast clearing in the woods somewhere.

The full moon above casted a pale glow down onto the grass and trees, catching the drops of dew and giving them a glittery illusion. In the middle of the clearing were two lawn chairs, and the ashy remains of a campfire, just barely smoldering.

I sighed and made my way over to the chairs. I dried the dew from the wicker, then took a seat and stared up at the moon, my only company for the moment.

This was a very strange situation I was in. Any other woman probably would have made a run for it by now... But I was almost comforted by the unknown.

I felt safer than I had before, at least, even if I had no idea where I was or the mysterious man I was with. For some reason, I didn't feel threatened or in danger... I felt as if someone was watching over me, in a way.

My mind became foggy and my eyes settled on the pale moon above. I wondered about that voice inside my head... Was it really a dream? Or was someone out there trying to communicate with me? Someone like me... Another mutant?

Everything was just so confusing now... The line between possible and impossible had been blurred, if not completely erased. I didn't know what to believe, and it was overwhelming...

"Hey."

A voice startled me from behind, and I whirled around to see who it was. It wasn't until now that I noticed the vacant chair floating above the grass, spinning aimlessly. It crashed to the ground as my mind focused, and my eyes landed on the source of the voice.

It was my savior from the bar. He was leaning in the doorway of the camper, looking groggy. His dark hair ruffled a bit from sleep, abd He was barefoot, dressed only in a pair of striped pajama pants and a white tank top... I struggled to keep my eyes off his muscular arms and torso.

The man raised his thick, dark eyebrows at the stirred up lawn chair, then flicked his eyes back to my face.

"Seems like you do that a lot." He grumbled at me, "You were having a nightmare and I thought we were headed to Oz."

I felt my cheeks burning red as he mentioned my out of control telekinesis, which was an intense contrast to the cold. The man began to walk over to me, and my body tensed. Something in my head told me he wasn't going to try to hurt me, but still all my muscles stiffened into defense mode.

I didn't say anything as he tilted the chair next to me upright and sat down. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him, until he looked at me with his clear, hazel eyes, of course... Then my eyes acted as if his face was a negative pole, and I just couldn't make them settle.

Each time I tried to force my eyes to stay put, they bounced to the moon, the smoldering embers, or the trees... Why was I so awkward?

For a minute or two, neither of us said anything. We sat side by side in the moonlight, a cool breeze passing through. I trembled a little, but the stranger next to me seemed unphased.

"Cold?" He asked me with a glance.

I nodded meekly, and the stranger stood up and walked back toward the camper. Now that his eyes were a safe distance away, I glued my own to his back as he disappeared inside.

He returned after a few seconds, holding the same leather jacket I'd seen him wearing the night before. "Here."

The man tossed the jacket underhand, and I reached out and caught it just before it hit my lap. I shyly passed my eyes over to him as he sat down again, nodding a 'thank you' in his direction.

The jacket had a soft interior lining, and the brown leather on the outside did an amazing job of blocking out every last trace of cold. I couldn't help but grin at the wonderful feeling of my body heat trapped against my skin, and I was toasty within seconds.

I could feel the man's eyes on me, but I tried to ignore how anxious it made me feel. He started to ask me more questions that I knew I would have to use my voice to answer.

"You got a name?"

I nodded. He waited.

"...Got a voice?"

This question confused me a little bit. I searched his tone, but I couldn't tell if he was being serious or sarcastic. I cleared my throat, realizing I couldn't stay mute forever.

"Anabelle..." I forced myself to squeak. I cleared my throat, my voice barely audible. "I'm Anabelle."

The man looked at me before leaning down and propping his elbows on his knees.

"Anabelle." He repeated, never taking his intense eyes off me. "Hm.. Name's Logan."

I gulped as he said his name, picturing the letters forming together inside my mind, sounding it out over and over again.

The name Logan definately fit him. It was strong and masculine, and unique... I couldn't say I'd ever met anyone named Logan.

After that, my throat froze again, and I sank back into my shy shell. I couldn't think of anything to say, and just kept nodding or shaking my head as Logan asked me questions.

"You really shouldn't be walking around by yourself-" Logan started to tell me, but his voice trailed off as he noticed my face fall sullen.

I looked down in my lap and picked at my nails, trying not to think of my dead step father and less than caring mother, unfortunately the only people I had in the world... She probably didn't even realize I was gone.

Then again, maybe she did, but she just didn't care. I started to wonder what my life would have been like if my dad would have been alive...

"...You don't have anyone." Logan observed, causing me to look up at him... For some reason it was easier in that moment.

It didn't last long, though. I tore my ice blue eyes away from his chizzled face, peering off into the trees.

I mentally ordered myself not to cry, struggling to keep my emotions under control. I bit my bottom lip in an attempt to keep my composure.

"Well, you and me both, kid." Logan sighed as he looked at the ground, "I don't have anybody but me."

He didn't seem too upset, and somehow, hearing him say this calmed my mind. For once, I felt less alone... Like someone else knew the struggles that I did.

"I left the only people I had behind..." I muttered as I stared at the ground, "They didn't care about me. They wouldn't have understood... No one ever does."

I felt Logan's eyes as he stared at me for a second, and my stomach twisted into a knot. I realized how many words I had left slip by my lips, and began obsessing over the nervous quiver I'd heard in my speech.

Logan suddenly stood up, running one of his hands through his dark, wavy hair.

"You must be new at this whole mutant thing, huh?" He asked me, and I cringed at the word mutant. Logan raised one of his eyebrows before continuing, "Can't say I blame ya. I still can't wrap my head around the shit... Nobody's ever gonna get it, so you better get used to that."

My eyes stayed glued to his knuckles while he talked, imagining those sharp blades sliding out from under his rough skin... A shudder racked up my spine.

"Hey? Anabelle." Logan's voice snapped me out of my trance, and I stared at his face, wide eyed. "I said, are you hungry?"

The question seemed out of place. I hadn't really thought about food... But as the thought made itself present in my mind, my stomach answered in place of my voice.

It roared loudly, causing Logan's eyebrows to raise, and his lips to curve into a small smirk... My heart melted a little bit.

"Say no more." He said with a light chuckle before heading inside.

I waited for a few minutes before Logan walked back out the door. In his arms he clutched a jug of shake-n-pour pancake batter, a frying pan, lighter fluid, and a few logs of firewood. A packet of baccon hung between his teeth.

"A little early breakfast never hurt anyone, huh?" He muttered to me as he quickly set up everything he needed to cook. "Hope you like pancakes and bacon."

I nodded, feeling my mouth water... I loved pancakes and bacon, but especially pancakes.

It amazed me how fast Logan got the frying pan set up and the fire started. He poured a little water into the jug of pancake batter, shook it up, and poured two circles into the pan. As they bubbled up, Logan focused on the unopened package of bacon.

My eyes widened as I watched the set of blades attached to his left pair of knuckles slide out from under his skin. There was no blood, though, not a single drop. No sign of pain on his face, either... He just tore through the bacon's plastic prison, withdrawing the metal claws when he was finished.

He noticed me staring at him, and judging by the look on his face, mine must have looked horrified.

"I know." He said, as if he was agreeing with something I said.

I tilted my head to the side, and I blurted out the question that had been pressing my mind since I first saw his strange mutation in the parking lot of the bar...

"D-doesn't that... Hurt...?" I managed to stammer out in a hushed tone. Logan gazed at me quizically, so I clarified. "You know... Your claws..."

The mysterious man next to me pressed his lips into a thin line under his scruff. His eyes focused on the two pancakes in the frying pan, which were ready to be flipped.

"Yup... Every time." Logan replied while he wedged a metal spatula under each pancake, flipping them onto their opposite sides. "I heal quick."

I nodded slowly and glanced one more time at his knuckles before falling quiet again. I just wasn't used to actually having someone around that wasn't terrified of me or what I could do.

After a few more minutes, Logan finished up the pancakes and had fried the bacon up nice and crispy, just the way we both happened to like it.

"Cheers." Logan said flatly as he raised the bottle of maple syrup.

Then, we both dug into our plates of early breakfast.

I felt awkward as I slowly took bites of the sweet and salty syrupy goodness. It tasted amazing, but I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that the only thing I knew about Logan was his name.

Well, that and his mutation... And then there was that voice in my dream that had woken me up.

Whoever it had been was trying to tell me I was safe... Safe with him... Who? Logan?

Even if the voice had been for real, who could possibly know I was with him? None of this made sense, not one bit.

But then again, nothing ever did anymore.

"...Logan," I spoke up meekly as I set my fork down, and he grunted back at me without looking up from his own plate, "Why did you save me?"

My fellow mutant shifted his sharp hazel eyes up to me, his dark eyebrows furrowed a little bit.

"Was I just supposed to leave you with those scumbags?" He asked me as he swallowed, and I shook my head.

"N-no, that's not what I meant," I said defensively, "I mean... You could have taken care of those pervs and left me there to fend for myself... Why did you take me with you? Why am I here?"

Logan stared at me a few more seconds, then sighed and set his plate on his lap. He ran his hands through his hair as if he were struggling to find the right words, and I waited patiently.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Logan admitted, "I was just sitting there in that bar, and when I sat down next to you, I don't know... This voice in my head started talking to me. I couldn't leave without you."

My entire body froze and I just stared at the man.

"Kid...? You in there?" Logan proded, but I completely tuned him out. All I could hear was the sound of my pounding heart in my eardrums.

This couldn't have been a coincidence, and that voice in my mind couldn't have been a dream... It was trying to get Logan's attention, too...

~~