Dead Of Night

Azalea. I woke up on the cold floor, bound, and to the noise of a can hitting the floor. My eyelids were heavy, and I struggled to get my eyes to open. When I did, I found Xavius crushing the can beneath his boot. He kicked it, then began pacing back and forth. “Whaf dith you doof toof me?” I asked, my tongue too heavy to pronounce the words accurately. I knew it was a pointless question since I was pretty certain he must have used that same tranquilizer on me that he used on Dante. “Shut the fuck up,” he snarled at me as he continued to pace anxiously. “I’m trying to think.” Velocity lacked in his tone, and that was enough confirmation that he had lost whatever had driven him to reach this point. “Let’s juft go back, pleafse.” For the everloving of, will I ever be able to talk like a human again with this crap in my system? I stopped, his gaze cold on me, but not arctic enough to freeze me. Yes, he had finally realized what he was about to do would have serious repercussions. I tried