by Unknown
The Moon cannot see us like this.
"This will be so much fun." Joyous, filled with excitement whisper comes to my ears. I don't need to look at her to know she is ecstatic about what will go down tonight. I can hear it in her voice.
"Your first hunt, Scar. Can you imagine? You're gonna love it."
Nodding, I'm trying not to imagine it.
"Move," in a stern voice, Cole shouts from behind.
Turning back, I see him. No – them. My friends, my family. Leading several strangers our way. Footprints left behind in the snow.
With their hands tied and mouths gagged with fabric, the humans are still trying to scream, fighting against their captors. They can't win this fight. I know they won't.
Couples, probably gone out to celebrate their love, there are four of them, a total of eight humans. Is the extra one for me?
They stop a few feet from where Micah and I are standing. The humans are shaking in their fear, looking at us as we are monsters. Aren't we?
"Ladies and gentlemen." Shooting the words out, Cole walks to stand in front of them. "Let me explain the rules of our game tonight. We can't untie you and let you roam free but we're going to make this as fair as possible. You'll have one hour head start before we come after you so I suggest you run. As fast as your human feet can carry you. Now!"
As soon as he says it, I see my friends who have been holding the humans let go, people starting to make their way through the thick snow.
They can't run, not really. This is why Cole chose this spot. This city.
The snow is their enemy but not ours. It won't stop us from catching them.
"So, Scarlet." Turning to me, his voice is softer now, gentle. Something it hasn't been when he talked to the humans. It's reserved only for us - his family, not for the prey. "I'm glad to see you came around and joined us tonight. This has been long due."
He's smiling, looking genuinely happy to see me here. Just like the rest of them are. All except Jazmine. But even if she doesn't like my presence here, she doesn't say anything. The only indication that her feelings are different from the others' is the line stretched across her face. Displeased. Disappointed.
"And since this is your first time, I'm going to explain how this works out," he goes on, the smile slipping off, his face now all business. "You saw the humans we let loose I believe."
Nodding, I can feel myself getting nervous. Scared of what he's going to tell me. Confirm the suspicion I've had about these hunts.
"We're going to chase them when the hour is up. Each one of us will have one of them and the last one, well, first - come, first - served. Do you understand?"
"I do." My voice sounds small, as small as I'm feeling. What am I agreeing to? Is this really what I need to do? Is this who I'm supposed to be?
A predator preying on the weak? A killer?
Stilling myself for the hunt, my hands are still shaking, nervous tingles breaking through the skin side, the person fighting against nature.
"And one more thing. None of them should be left alive."
"Are we supposed to hunt as humans or are we allowed to use our wolves too?"
"It doesn't matter which of your forms you choose, Scarlet. All that matters tonight is that you to sate your hunger," Cole says.
The silence that comes after his words is eery. Consuming.
An hour of silence, minutes that tick by so fast when I need all the time in the world to decide if I'm going to be the killer I must be.
Sneaking a glance at Jazmine, her eyes are watching somewhere in the distance. Do they see the fleeing humans? Are they capturing them in? What thoughts are hidden behind?
Eyes noticing my attention, I see tears gleaming in the moonlight. She isn't my friend, perhaps, will never be but she is the only one who feels the burden I do.
Why couldn't they?
"The hour's up, folks." Eyes alight with excitement, Micah announces. "Let's go."
Body cold, feet deep in the snow, they won't move and follow the others deep into the fray. A desert of white glittering in the night is waiting. Ours to cross. Ours to stain with drops of red as we take what isn't ours to take.
A life. A dozen.
"Scarlet, let's go!" A scream that's urging me to follow my instinct, to act like I am an animal.
I'm not ready to turn into one yet. Psyching myself up for this hasn't been enough. I won't just kill others because I can, because it is in my nature.
Refusing the hand fate has dealt me, there's only one thing I can say. "I'm sorry. You go."
Whipping around, walking towards the car parked a few miles from here, no – running towards it as fast as I can with the snow my feet keep sinking into, I'm powerless to change those humans' fate.
I can't stop my friends from doing what they've come here to do. I can't help the weak.
All I can do is pretend I know nothing of what's happening in that white desert.
(15) The Wrong Way
|Scarlet's POV|
The rogue has been taunting us for weeks now, hunting in our territory as if it belongs to him. Oh, but how wrong he is.
No one ever puts a claim on what is ours. The others avoid this territory, probably sensing it's different. And he... he just moves right in, unknowing of what we are and can do to him.
Ignorant.
I stop in front of the next tree, holding the knife up with unwavering hand as I carve the message into the trunk. Pieces of its skin are raining down as the letters form into a single word.
Leave, it says.
I slide the knife back into its sheath on my waist, then take the metal can out of my backpack. The scent of blood hits as soon as the cap is removed, making me grit my teeth for control over the undying thirst weaving its vines over everything I am. There's a thin line between staying sane and becoming a monster. I'm not willing to cross it still... to give in.
I pour a few drops of the blood on my palm, smear it over the carving, hoping this will be enough to scare him off so the bloodshed could be avoided, but I am reminded it doesn't work this way. The moon children are a stubborn lot. They don't run with their tails between their legs, they face the challenge head on.
I've excused myself again from the last hunting trip, which Cole didn't take as well as I've hoped. He's still pestering me about my avoidance which I'm still refusing to discuss, so therefore, this is my chance.
To prove myself. To take him out of our land without shedding unnecessary blood.
Taking a tentative sip from the can, I'm once again refusing surface to any thoughts of what I'm doing. The taste is sweet, addicting even, but there's something off about it. It has a bitterness in itself, a rotten, disgusting aftertaste. Death. It tastes like death, proving it's far from what I need to sustain myself.
He says that I'll be forced to kill soon, if not to protect us then to satisfy the burning inside need. He claims that I am starving myself.
And he's probably right.
I haven't been on a hunt for weeks. I haven't changed for weeks... since the day the rogue moved in and I'm becoming restless with frustration. My body is losing weight and humming with the need for more than raw, dead meat. More than small animals.
Soon, I will need to kill. It will no longer be a matter of choice but a means of survival. My own.
With the markings done, I move further into the woods - checking the traps, making sure they are secured and in place if he decides to make it easy on me and get caught in one of them. He never does. He's a lot smarter than that.
I note the ones missing, sure he's disposed of them as I fling silent curses his way. The moron sure has no idea what he's doing.
That done, I make one last round over the perimeter and head back towards the house. I'm almost there, the thickness of the treeline giving way to the clearing the house is nestled on when I notice an odd, small device secured to a branch. Something black and small is peaking under the green foliage.
I get closer, straining my neck so I coul
d take a better look at what it is. It's hard to make out from below, therefore, I decide a climb is in order. I grip the tree trunk with my hands, pulling my body over the nearest branch, then slowly, carefully make the rest of the way up. It's one hell of a high climb, nearly to the top of the tree, but somehow I manage to stay on the branch and not tumble down.
The skin on my palms feels sore and stings from the scratches the climb has given me but I pay them no attention since they are going to heal in a matter of minutes if not seconds. I'm weaker now than I've been a few weeks ago. All because of the stupid rogue.
At last, I reach the branch the device is attached to and shove the leaves to clear the view. What I find there is a small camera, the light on its side blinking in signal.
"Fuck!" Swearing loudly, I tear the device off the branch.
I've been lax in my patrol duties and this is the only confirmation I need. Another point on the list of my offenses.
It was a mistake not killing him on the spot as Cole advised. I know that now. A lot of good it does since the damage is already done.
I make my way down, guilt nagging at my chest with the realization... he's been spying on us. I head into the house feeling guilty and defeated. There's no way out of it now.
"Cole?" I call out as soon as I step in. "You here, Cole?"
"Kitchen," comes in answer.
Dragging myself to the kitchen, my head is hanging low in shame. I find Adam perched on a stool while Cole is busying himself preparing dinner. His cooking is amazing, which is something I never expected from a guy this intimidating when I first came here.
A lot has changed since then. The six months spent here have been the happiest in my entire life despite the intense training, pushing myself to my limits on a daily basis and the knowledge nudging at the back of my mind. They are monsters but they are no monsters toward me. They are family.
"Cole," I say quietly once I am a step away from the counter. "I found something disturbing in the woods."
There's no point to stall. I may as well get it over with and risk him killing me rather than keep guessing when or if he will. I place the camera on the counter and wait for his reaction. Narrowing his midnight eyes, his dark brows furrow in confusion. Adam hops off his seat, coming closer to get a better look.
Picking it up in his palm, studying the device carefully, "What's this?" he questions.
The only reason I've known what it was is the fact that I've seen one of those before. My former pack used similar kind of surveillance equipment in the house as well as in the surrounding forest. I've been there, watching when they installed the equipment.
"A camera," I explain, pointing at the small lens. "It's a wireless camera transmitting a signal within several miles' range. The recording device can't be far from here. I found it installed on a tree branch on my last round." Going on, I'm digging up my own grave, "Nice view of the house and all."
"Fuck, Scarlet!" Cole shouts, getting over his shock... obviously. "I told you we needed to kill him weeks ago, but no, you insisted on taking care of him in your own way."
The wrong way...
Dropping my eyes to the ground, I can't bear the look of accusation I know he's throwing at me. He's right. It's my fault. All of it.
"None of this would have happened if I listened to you, Cole," I admit, letting my guilt - my shame, drip into my voice.
"I know it's my fault. I should have done better. I should have killed him like you told me to but I... I'm stupid. Weak..." I trail off, letting the silence swallow my words. It's pointless to apologize for something that can't be undone, as pointless as it is to give him excuses. There's nothing else I can do but...
"I'm going to clean up my mess. Tonight."
Swinging on a heel, I leave the house with the knowledge that, tonight, I'm going to kill. I'm going to torture it out of him, then kill him.
No second thoughts. No remorse. No regrets.
He's going down and I'm going down with him.
(16) First Blood
|Scarlet's POV|
No time is wasted in preparation. I've had all the preparation I was ever going to need. Months of it... Months of all-consuming hunger, of denial.
It is not I but the Moon who decided instead. She is the one to bestow deliverance upon me and I, for once, find myself accepting of her gift. Whether it's a gift or a curse.
Let me be cursed if I shall.
High up on the tree, laying on the branch, I'm taking cover above ground. Waiting for him to return to the cabin all I can think about is his punishment, the one I must exert over this pathetic wolf, this measly spy who thinks he can pose a threat to my family with no sequence or persecution.
Daring to do the unthinkable, daring me to do the unthinkable, the fault is his.
A quiet rustle alarming me of his approach,he's moving like a cat, gliding through the woods with light, barely audible steps. A human will never hear him but I am not one. Loud and clear in the moonlit quiet, I do hear his sneaky advance towards th cabin.
Drowning in his undeserved arrogance, the mocking note of soft humming reaches me, the sound maddening, playing on strings he shouldn't even get close to.
This stupid, stupid rogue, even in my weakened state, he is no match for me. He doesn't know. He thinks he's spying on humans. He thinks he is invincible.
Waiting for him to come under the tree, bracing myself for the jump, I whistle loudly, making him freeze, hurling myself at him. My body hits his, throwing him off his feet as we crash on the ground together. Barely feel the impact from the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I raise my body from him, standing up for long enough to flip him over onto his back, then throw myself back over his body, letting my canines slide down with a hiss. Can he see my eyes glazing with rage?
His rough, bearded face paling under the shine, shock overrides fear for a split second until fear takes back the reign. He sees them, no doubt about that.
"Who...w-what are you?" Stuttering, he's struggling under me as I hold his arms pressed to the ground above his head.
I growl in warning, giving into that side of my nature that's screaming at me to bite, to tear his flesh off and consume him the way he deserves.
He's older than me. A few years or a few decades. But being a wolf has kept him young, his aging if not stopped altogether, then slowed down to a crawl.
"What am I?" I hiss in his face when his leg connects with my lower back. "You'll find that soon enough, mutt."
Bending my head down to his neck, my teeth hit an artery. His jaw is snapping at me, trying to bite me too. Letting go of his left hand, clasping my right over his chin to hold his canines safely away from my neck, I won't allow him to take a piece of me as he wishes.
Tonight it's for me to take and him to give. Piercing the skin, drinking him in hungry gulps, this is the most intense sensation I've ever felt. Warm and sweet and powerful, his blood is replenishing my strength, flowing out of him to make him weaker and flowing into me to make me stronger.
Vampire bite isn't poisonous to a wolf. It doesn't kill them. Just the opposite. Done right, done in the throngs of passion it could be an extremely pleasurable experience... but done in anger, it can hurt like a mother.
There is a pleasure to be found in pain and his pain is giving me pleasure. His screams are like a song to my ears, his struggles underneath me - like a dance of our bodies. His dying while mine is taking that life. I must stop, I must hold the thirst back before it takes the last drop of him, not ruin the purpose of this, but can I hold back once I've had my first taste?
He will die. This isn't a question. It's just not time yet.
Slipping into unconsciousness, a few more drops before I let him go, I lick the skin on his neck, the remains of blood on it, closing the wound. The act might be disgusting but the taste is sublime.
Getting off of him, I drag him to the cabin. His body leaves a trail on the ground, his very existence an insult to the forest as it is to its owners.
&n
bsp; No one is going to take it from us. No one is going to take my family from me. Of that, I will make certain.
Leaving him to lay on the wooden floor, I go and lock the door of the cabin.
***
The place has been stripped bare from his belongings. No stone has been left unturned and no spot unchecked. All there is that could hint us of Samuel's work is his laptop. Rogues usually stay away from modern technology. Too paranoid to rely on it, they rarely use it.
Samuel, however, hasn't been the norm for what we call usual rogue behavior. No, he was the exception.
Taking one last glance at the inside of the cabin, his scent still lingering inside the building, I step outside where my family is waiting for me.
Hunter is gathering the rogue's possessions into a pile on the forest ground. Adam is holding a gasoline tube, ready to pour the combustible liquid over the stuff and set the fire as soon as Hunter finishes his job.
Jazmine is watching from the side next to David while Cole and Micah are engaged in a conversation nearby. What are they talking about? Their words are too quiet for me to hear, only their lips moving that I know they are talking about something.
Making my way around the cabin, there's another sight hidden behind the wooden skeleton of the edifice. A hole dug into the earth, it's housing the final resting place of someone who became a victim of his own stupidity.
It's more than average idiocy that brought him down there. It's me who did. Glancing down at the disrupted peace of the earth, the grave doesn't look like one. It's just a bleeding wound into the ground that nurtures us, that same ground this wolf has walked on and the same one which will now swallow what's left of him.
Looking at the horror below, it's so hard to accept that I am the one who made such a mess out of a kill that should have been clean and simple. But then again, no kill is clean or simple ever.
"No life taken goes unpunished."
Turning around, I see Jazmin standing a few feet from me, her eyes on the man who's now laying into the ground. Can she see the disfigured face as clearly as I can?