Page 4 of Primal Call

He remembered the attack all too vividly: the chaos, the screams, the unstoppable force of the Borraq warriors. And that massive brute that kidnapped him, with a wicked grin, lunging at him with those powerful arms outstretched.

You'll be perfect, he'd snarled.

Perfect for what? Jasper didn't want to imagine. He'd heard the rumors, of course, the stories that made their rounds wherever human soldiers gathered. Tales of the Borraq capturing humans not just as prisoners of war, but for darker reasons.

Some said they were worked to death as slave labor. Some said they took humans to experiment on.

Others claimed, in hushed whispers, that the Borraq kept humans as… as livestock.

As food.

Jasper shuddered, pushing that horrific thought from his mind. He was trained to save lives, but now his own life hung in the balance. He couldn't stop the creeping tendrils of fear from tightening around his heart.

He'd thought he was prepared to die. It was the only way to keep hiding his true self. He'd steeled himself for that sacrifice, convinced it was his calling.

But this? Trapped at the mercy of alien captors?

This wasn't part of the plan.

Pushing back against the despair, Jasper forced himself to take deep, steadying breaths. He was alive, at least for now. And where there was life, there was hope.

Jasper scanned the hold, his training kicking in despite the grim circumstances. His gaze landed on a young man huddled in the corner, clutching his leg. Blood seeped between his fingers.

Without hesitation, Jasper crossed over to him. "Let me take a look at that," he said, keeping his voice low and soothing.

The man flinched away, his eyes wide with fear. "D-don't touch me!"

"It's okay, I'm a medic." Jasper held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I can help."

After a tense moment, the man slowly removed his hand, revealing a deep gash along his calf. Jasper sucked in a breath. It looked bad, that was for sure, but it was treatable if he had supplies. Jasper's own shirt was covered in blood and dust…

Turning, he sought out the nearest person, a gangly youth who seemed slightly more lucid than the others. "You, I need your help."

The young man, who couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen, blinked at him owlishly. "Me?"

"Yes, you. I'm Jasper, what's your name?"

"A-Asher."

"Okay, Asher, I need you to look around and find me something I can use to staunch this bleeding. Some kind of cloth, the cleaner the better."

Asher nodded jerkily, and got to his feet. In the meantime, Jasper returned his attention to the injured man. "What's your name?"

"Finn," he ground out. He looked to be in his early twenties, though his face was pale and drawn from the pain.

"Alright, Finn. I'm gonna get you fixed up, okay?" Jasper mustered up his most reassuring smile. "Just keep pressure on that for now. Press here — yes, like that."

Finn nodded, his face pale and clammy. Jasper squeezed his shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

A moment later, Asher returned, carrying a shirt that looked clean enough. "Here, someone gave me this."

"Great job, Asher." Jasper took the shirt with a grateful nod, and began to tear it into makeshift bandages. "Put your hand right here."

Working quickly and efficiently, Jasper staunched the worst of the bleeding, then dressed Finn's wound with the limited supplies. It needed a real cleaning, antibiotics, stitches… but right now, stopping Finn from losing even more blood was the only priority.

As he worked, Jasper kept up a soft stream of comforting patter. "You're doing great, Finn. Just keep breathing nice and slow… Asher, tie a knot here…"Finally, he secured the last bandage with a tight knot. "There we go, all set. How's that feeling?"

Finn let out a shaky exhale. "B-better. Thanks."

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