*Click woosh*
Xavier felt a chilly breeze hit his face as he pulled open the hospital door. Walking out of Exit C. Relief, and satisfaction also hit him too. Xavier disliked hospitals not in the traditional smell of death and bleach way that sucked, but simply because he had spent too much of his life there. But now for all he cared, he was free.
'For the foreseeable future that is.'
"hngh."
Xavier did a little stretch, he brought his arms far above his head and took a deep breath, fresh non bleached air filled his lungs. A light smile filled his face.
However the environment wasn't as joyous as him, stretchers and wheelchairs were urgently pushed through by nurses scrambling to get their patients to the right place.
However this break in mood, brought Xavier back to focus. He walked past the ambulance trucks and crossed the street to a tall cement structure: Parking Lot C. He walked into the dark empty lot and through a set of doors and made his way up the floors through a set of stairs.
As he pushed open the door, it seems he was too clumsy and a finger lagged behind his body, the door closer pushed inward towards the hinge and jammed his pointer finger between the frame and the door.
"Ouch"
he said audibly, his face slightly discomforted.
There was a slight tingle on his pointer finger, he brought his hand up to look and sure enough, his wound was reopened, the blood dripped on the floor, too much for the bandage to hold.
"Damned hemophilia."
He said loud enough for someone nearby to hear. Strangely there was no one.
'Hospitals normally are packed right?'
He took his remaining hand to fish his jacket pockets, other than trash, there was nothing.
'Strange, I always make sure to stock up bandages.'
'Better finish this quick.'
He made a note to self. It was strange because Xavier was a very careful person, always prepared for anything.
No way he didn't have bandages…
'It's just a coincidence.'
he brushed it off, although a slight tinge of unease slipped through.
*Step*
The wet pavement of the floor squelched and echoed with every step, and every once in a while he would see a rat cage or cigars and plastic bags. Camera's were littered here and there at every landing.
*Step*
Xavier walked past another flight of stairs and stopped this time, he could vaguely hear resounding echoes that came a few seconds after his.
'Is it someone who is just passing by?'
he thought taking a cautious glance behind his back. He felt his back tingle.
*Step*
He walked another flight of stairs probing for any sight sounds, or indication of a pursuer.
Suddenly Xavier stopped, his eye glowed a deep blood red then fading back into a light red again.
'I knew it.'
Someone was following him.
He was perfectly prepared.
Xavier may be frail, but he wasn't complacent.
He had ways to defend himself. After all he was a noble.
Trouble was bound his way someday.
Sure if he threw a punch he'd probably suffer from internal bleeding or if he'd tried to pick up a sword he'll break his arms. Hell he could barely run without tearing something in his leg.
Or if he tried to cast magic the most that would come out is a condensed blue strand, which could stretch very far, but wasn't viable in anyway in fighting, more floppy than anything.
But he as a researcher Xavier, knew there were more ways to protecting oneself other than brawn, might, weapons, or magic.
With research he realized he himself was enough, protection enough.
He was a walking trap. A walking pooling of mana.
It was perfect because the cut on his finger hasn't healed.
Leaving a trail of blood.
He took a deep breath and his eyes tinged a blood red again. As a blue strand appeared at Xavier's fingertips.
"Blood sense."
Xavier chanted and closed his eyes, using a spell was like remembering a formula, You can use it more effectively if you write it down before hand that is chanted magic.
Remembering the formula in your head and doing mental math in your mind is chant-less magic therefore one would need to have an innate familiarity of the spell or it would be terribly inefficient.
Xavier didn't like inefficiency.
The blue string stretched downward tracing the floor and moving away from Xavier's body and down the stairs.
It was like seeing the world through a rat's view. Xavier's vision scurried from one place to another. Seeing the world through one line not really seeing but sensing, weaving between plastic bags and cigarettes and mouse, avoiding all obstacles.
Then it stopped, met with a tall shape, too big to be trash, and too small to be a wall.
It did a drastic turn, moving sideways left to a red liquid left on the floor.
The strand of mana fused and fused Xavier's blood silently dispersing into an ethereal mist.
Leaving only a slight red glow and the faint smell of blood. Floating up into the air and sticking on to a mans clothes. The man wore a hoodie, but with the sticky mana, Xavier could make out the contour of the mans head and barely, his head.
He looked to be quite young, maybe in his 17s
Xavier couldn't make out details about color with his blood sense but he had a very defined face, he was British and looked like someone who would make it into an idol group without audi…
Xavier stopped momentarily and his mouth hung wide.
"Dim??"
sufficed to say he was very perturbed.