Sequel to "Escape from the Witch Hunters"
Jack kept walking towards her and Ami kept backing up until finally she hit the wall. "Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?" he had an arrogant smile on his face and he got closer to her.
"That." she nodded...
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Hashtag me in ten years. ^
On another note, is there nothing I can do to convince you to comment inline? I cannot stress enough how much I love getting those comments and reading them. Pweeeeeeese comment? In honor of it still being February ;) (it's February somewhere...) here is chapter 25. Enjoy. (AND PLEASE COMMENT?)
"Jack!" Ami shrieked, grabbed a bedsheet, and threw it over his back in an attempt to keep the blood suckers away.
Jack grunted and his face contorted.
"There are five of them!" she picked up a pillow and swung her pillow around.
"Just let them bite me. It's going to happen someday," he muttered.
"Jack!" she didn't stop swinging. "I'm not going to let them bite you!"
She whacked the air with vigor.
"Don't trouble yourself."
A fly managed to land on Jack's back.
"Ouch!" he arched his back and flopped over. "That hurt!"
She dropped the pillow. "Are you alright? Jack? Ouch don't whack me."
He spasmed on the bed. The flies were unable to land on the rippling surface. After the first fly sank its mouth into Jack's flesh, the thirst of all five seemed to abate. They glided around the room before vanishing.
Jack's skin, where the fly had landed, turned a cherry red, and as round as a walnut. He stopped jerked and groaned instead. "Am I dying?"
"I'm not exactly sure," she felt his forehead. Was he warmer than usual? Was he getting a fever? "What should I do? Should I ring for a servant or something? Are-"
He gagged.
Ami flinched.
She scrambled off the bed and ran to the bedroom door. Locked. She shook the handle again. It didn't budge. Ami look around the room for a servant's bell. Her eyes locked onto a dusty and faded bell ringer across the room, and she hurried to pull the tassel at the end. She got a puff of dust in her face, and no ring to summon a servant.
Ami heard Jack gag again. She glanced over at him. Sweat bubbles spritzed his forehead, his eyelids had turned rosey, his cheeks flushed. "He's getting worse by the second," she murmured.
She scurried to the door and started banging her fists against the engraved wood. "Somebody help! Jack is ill!"
Jack moaned. "Too loud." He proceeded to shiver.
Sweat bubbles formed on his arms and back.
Ami puckered her lips and glared at the door. "God, I need a miracle," she slumped against the door.
