The Human Hunter

Chapter 3

Feeling something tugging at her right hand began to bring Emma out of the light sleep she'd somehow managed to fall into. She gave herself an extra minute, needing the time to go back through everything that had happened to her earlier and process it. She understood that when she opened her eyes she'd likely be staring up at a swarm of black widows scurrying about the walls and ceilings, still stuck in the nightmare she had hoped wasn't real. The reality hurt, but not as much as her back did when she tried to shift on the hard metal floor of the cage. A sharp pain shot up her spine, causing her to cringe with a hiss.

Darn, I forgot how bad my back got when sleeping on the floor.

She'd hurt it when she was younger and didn't do too well sleeping on hard surfaces, but the old injury had worsened over the years as she spent several nights camping in her backyard with her little brother. It was something that Salem absolutely loved so Emma had just kept ignoring the growing problem with simple pain medications, not wanting to disappoint him.

"What is wrong, human?" Widow's dull voice asked to her right, seemingly uninterested in actually knowing the answer.

Was he the one tugging at my hand?

"Just don't sleep well on hard surfaces," she muttered through clenched teeth, cursing her back in her mind.

The sound of Widow standing up, then walking toward the entrance of the cave-like room made Emma relax a little. She had been worried that he would be angry about her back problem and try to drag her out of the cage or at least try to make her move. That wouldn't have ended well. She needed a few minutes to allow her muscles to relax after she awoke or they knotted up worse and the pain quadrupled.

Her relaxation was short lived when the sound of the cage opening met her ears. A cold sweat immediately broke out across her skin as she felt her body begin to tense up in anticipation of an attack.

"I asked..."

His voice had gotten so close, so quickly, that Emma couldn't help but open her tired eyes.

"Oh, wow," she whispered without thinking, making Widow tilt his head and blink. The movement had the swirling webs of white dissolve back into his dark brownish-black eyes.

"What?" he asked, obviously confused about what she had just said.

"Your eyes," Emma replied, making Widow's brow furrow as he leaned back slightly, sitting on his heels while straddling her left leg.

"What about my eyes?" he questioned quietly.

"They had webbing in them, criss-crossing your iris and pupil."

Widow seemed to pause at that, a look taking over his expression that Emma couldn't quite place. It seemed like something between surprise, exhaustion, and fear.

"That isn't normal for you?" she asked.

He blinked a few times and shook his head, though it seemed like it wasn't to necessarily tell her no but more like to snap himself out of a daze of some sort. When his eyes refocused on her, he looked completely closed off again.

"What is wrong with your back? You are having trouble moving," he said, changing the subject.

"It gets bad when I sleep on a hard surface," she repeated.

His eyes narrowed, and then he spoke without a hint of care in his tone. "Get up."

Emma inwardly blanched. They'd both just said that she'd had trouble moving, and now he wanted her to get up right away?

Bastard.

He moved away from her to crouch near the entrance of the cage, watching like a predator as Emma struggled to get herself into a sitting position. If he would just give her a few minutes to allow the muscles to loosen up, she wouldn't have nearly as much trouble. It was frustrating and visibly painful, but she bit her tongue on even considering that he might be sympathetic.