đČđA Howl In The NightđČđ
đč(She’s Mine)đč
đŒFrom Novel r0m@nç£đŒ
đChapter 10đ
“What is that white thing?” I inquire, my voice still shaking from fear of the monster.
“It is called a Shifter,” Wes speaks up, words flowing like melted bu-tter from hisl-ips, “and they are the sworn enemies of werewolves. They are creatures of chaos, death, and misery, with eyes that mirror true hell. Invisible to the human and werewolf eye, the only way to detect a Shifter in its true form is to smell it. We are the only species that has a powerful enough s-en-se of smell.”
“However,” Xavier jumps in, “there are some humans able to see these Shifters. We call them Seers. Usually this sight is caused by a near death accident that a Shifter is involved in. That’s you, Mona.”
I think back to those burning memories, full of bitterness, fear, and hate. I can remember it now… the white cloud with those terrible eyes, floating in front of me right before wreaking havoc upon us all.
“A Seer can be awakened to become a Spier,” Ray says, his voice tinged with excitement, “one of the six Talents!”
“What is a Spier?” I ask, gazing at the way Xavier’s face turns ha-rd at Ray’s words. I grow even more interested, noting his discomfort.
“A Spier is able to conjure a spirit spear, and kill a Shifter in its true form. One can be aligned with every pack, and would complete our own. With you, we would have the six Talents,” He gestures to the four werewolves surrounding him, “Yi is a budding Stealth Talent, which means he can turn fully invisible when he finally develops his skill. Jake is a Sabertooth Talent, which means he has long, retractable claws that are somewhat like a Sabertooth Tiger’s teeth. Xavier is an Earthquake Punch Talent, which pretty much explains itself, and Wes is a Charm Talent. He can charm his opponent within a couple of seconds, and almost hypnotize them into doing his will. And I… I am a Beast Talent.”
“What’s that?” I wonder, staring into Ray’s almost perfect face, stained with a darkness I canât quite explain. He is a mirror image of Xavier, but yet they are they so different. How can this be?
“When I morph, I can truly be a beast,” he says softly, his menacing eyes scouring my skin. un-der his gaze, I feel tingles of terror shiver throu-gh my spine.
“Anyways,” Wes says, slinging a graceful arm around my thin shoulders, “what else would you like us to explain?”
“How do you become a Spier?” I wonder, “do you have to be a werewolf? It seems cool…” Spirit spears? The chance to abolish my parent’s murderers, the ones that deprived me of a happy childhood? Everything seems too crazy, too wild to believe. But somehow, I know that it all is true every time I gaze into their emerald eyes.
“No,” Xavier states fiercely, “you are not going to be one. Don’t tell her, Ray.”
Ray looks at Xavier with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. “She deserves to know,” he replies, “she made the choice when she decided to run into the forest in the very beginning.” His brown hair glimmers as he makes his way towards me, his emerald eyes unblinking. “You do not have to be a werewolf, yet you will gain immortality. You will be with your loved one forever-”
“I said NO!” Xavier growls, pushing Ray to the wall, digging his f!ngersinto his throat, “she is not going to be awakened, so shut up, Ray!” Tension mounts in the room as everyone grows silent, my head still spinning from the madness I have launched myself into.
“Why can’t I know?” I question, my voice stammering, tinged with fear at Xavier’s anger, “why is it so bad?”
“You only have a fifty percent chance or lower of surviving to be a Spier when you are awakened,” Jake answers quietly. Xavier shoots a scowl at Jake, r0Ă»ghly re-leasing Ray from his grasp. Ray takes a step away from Xavier, and smiles.
“Think about it, Mona.” With these last words, he disappears out of the room, slinking away so fast that even Xavier has no time to slug him with one of his potent fists.
“Ray…” Xavier m0@n s, putting a hand against his forehead. He looks up and faces Jake, Yi, and Wes. “He doesn’t like me very much, does he?”
They all look at each other, and then simultaneously nod. “But we’re behind you all the way!” Wes pumps his fist in the air, “right, guys?”
“Yeah,” Jake agrees, but Yi stays silent, like he has been almost the entire time. A piece of his coal black hair falls into his face, his green eyes expressionless.
“Itâs not my business,” Yi says, not looking into Xavier’s slightly irritated face. Wes’s face is bent in annoyance also, my expression of pure confusion. He turns to leave, muttering, “I’m going to practice.” Without another word, he vanishes, leaving uncertainty behind him.
“Oh, he’s just like this because he’s the youngest and he hasn’t developed his Talent yet,” Wes tries to wave it off, “he’s probably jealous of you because you have everything he doesn’t; the best Talent, looks, and position in the pack.”
“But we don’t nee-d jealousy,” Xavier laments, his voice rou-gh and full of anguish, “we nee-d loyalty.”
“Now, now Xavier,” Jake smiles, patting him on the back slightly, “we’re a family. It is good for families to have little disagreements every once and a while. It helps us grow closer.”
Xavier looks at them both, his eyes fierce. I gaze at him, drinking in his startling blue hair and enticing eyes, hisl-ips as he forms his next words. It is allâhis face, his b©dy, his every movementâperfect.
There must be something wrong with me.
“I wouldn’t exactly call this a little disagreement,” he murmurs, then whirls to face me. My heart begins to beat fas-ter, and I suddenly find it ha-rd to breathe. How can one look affect me this way? “I’m going to take her to the orphanage,” he suddenly spurts, taking my arm and dragging me along with him. I can feel his harshness, so different from the gentle t©uçhes I am used to. His movements are stiff and brisk, each step robotic. Even his grip on my arm is strange, so ti-ght that it almost cuts off my circulation.
We pas-s throu-gh the old fashioned corridors into the beautiful lobby. I gaze at the spectacular artwork, yet being careful not to look above. For if I do, I might bur-st into tears. Xavier doesn’t seem to notice my sudden insecurity, his expression unchanging.
He pu-lls me to the bridge, forcing me to cross it with him. I think of earlier, when Xavier was smiling and laughing with me as we first reached this place. It seems so distant now, like the whisper of a memory that is on the brink of fading away.
We walk for a little while, his grasp ti-ght£ñing. It feels like it is going to explode; my hand, my whole b©dy, and my heart. I am scared of this stranger, this man full of uncertainty and worry. The care free version of Xavier, the guy that is so naive, is the one I… just might be falling for.
Suddenly a flashing pain enters me, his grip suddenly bone breaking in strength. “Let go of me!” I scream, my voice filled with pain and anguish. Crumpling to the ground, I cradle my hand with the other, letting the life flow back into it.
Xavier turns, startled, and I just stare.
He runs to me, bending down so his handsome face is at eye level. “Did I hurt you?” he asks, his face flu-shed. I gaze at him, tears brimming at the corner of my eyes. Slowly I let them fall, running down my face in rivers.
“I’m so sorry…” he murmurs, sweeping me into a hvg, his t©uçh now like before. After a minute, he pu-lls away, and I notice that his face mirrors my own, tears staining his cheeks also. Strangely, I laugh. I can finally see him.
This is the man I know.
“You are better now!” I smile throu-gh my tears, “I don’t mind the hurt, as long as you are okay.”
What am I saying? I must be going crazy.
Xavier looks at the floor, his unnaturally long eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Mona,” he apologizes, a hint of sadness in his tone, “it is just that I’m worried about how this is all going to turn out. I want you to be safe more than anything.” He finally lifts his head at these words, his face contorted in a scowl, “and Ray cares nothing for your safety. He is a heartless werewolf, Mona, more than anyone else.”
“Then why did you take him in?”
“Because he is a Beast Talent,” Xavier shakes his head, “and because he is my twin brother. I can’t turn away family.”
I reel back from his words. They are very identical, but their personalities are so different that it is somehow difficult to believe. I suppress a heavy yawn, and Xavier chuckles quietly.
“Let’s get you home.” Picking me up in his tender embr@ce, he begins to zoom throu-gh the forest, everything a blur. I let my eyes close, feeling more comfort than I have in a long time. Why does Xavier always do this to me?
After a short while, we reach the ugly orphanageâa collage of graffiti, brick, scattered paint, and rou-gh landscapingâand halt. I scan it quietly, taking in the two stories of misery, the windows that are commanded to be shut always, the old door that ba-rely swings on its hinge.
“Thank you Xavier,” I smile, though suddenly feeling fear. Ms. Penn is going to kill me for being out so late. My walk becomes a soldier’s, knowing that each step leads me to certain death, or sometimes torture.
Xavier vanishes, ma-king me feel more alone than ever. I never thought I would miss his de-sire to follow me absolutely everywhere, but now, a pit of nervousness builds in my stomach. What is Ms. Penn going to do to me?
With shaking f!ngers, I slide the door open, only to fall prey to the vicious beast. There Ms. Penn stands, her face contorted in anger, her hair frazzled and messy. “Where have you been?!” she roars, gr-abbing me in the arm so ti-ghtly that I wince. My head shakes as she drags me over to the kitchen. With long, switch-like f!ngerti-ps, she slashes me, sl@pping my skin with all her might. Pain erupts, vivid, dastardly hurt that spre-ads throu-ghout my entire b©dy like wildfire. She sm-irks as the blood starts to appear, staining my tomato red cheek. “People shouldn’t have to worry about you,” she snarls, “you are too useless and ugly for them to waste their time over.”
I bend my head, hoping to avoid another terrible sl@p, my tears racing to join the blood. “I’m sorry,” I apologize, my words almost a cry.
“Well, sorry is not enough,” she snaps, “you will have to clean the entire orphanage tomorrow after school, instead of just your room. And that includes their rooms, the lunchroom, and the bathrooms.” I flin-ch at the word bathroom; they are so dirty that the orphanage usually has to bring in a professional cleaning team to get it done.
“plea-se, Ms. Penn,” I beg, my voice anguished, âI won’t have any time for homework if I clean the entire orphanage! That is a task for maybe two to four days!”
She smiles in return. “Mona, if you don’t get it done by tomorrow at ten o’ clock, then I won’t give you any breakfast or dinner for the next week.” I g@sp, my breath caught in my throat. Turning towards the stairs, I run up them to my dorm, rushing to the room I like to call mine. Throwing myself onto the be-d, I let them all loose, my tears now like a rushing river, my cheek throbbing with unbearable pain.
“You are going to get the sheets we-t if you continue like that,” a melodic voice whispers, startling me in my silence, “would you like to let me in?”
I glance up at the window, spying the werewolf I thought had ditched me a while ago. He is sitting on the tree br@nch closest to my window, beckoning for me to open it. I crawl on the dull mattress to the wall, where the window is located, and fl!pthe lock. With a little pain from the hand Xavier had hurt, I f0rç£d it open, wondering how Xavier can fit into such a tiny space.
Suddenly, a creamy white mas-s flings itself throu-gh the window, landing on the same be-d I am in. He peers at me with his emerald eyes, the wolf p@rt of Xavier, and morphs into the handsome man that is coupled with the beautiful beast.
His eyes wi-den at my cheek, stained ru-by red with blood, pain, and tears. “What happened?” he asks, somehow compelling me to betray the truth.
“Ms. Penn, uh, sl@pped me,” I finish in a whisper, choked g@sps escaping me as a fresh wave of pain enters my b©dy. I can still feel them, the nails as they dug into my cheek. My hand throbs also, but it nothing against this blinding terror, coupled with the agony. If I don’t finish cleaning the entire orphanage tomorrow, which I won’t, then she will deprive me of food for the next week! And I only have about three or four dollars in my account at school.â
“That’s all?” he asks suspiciously, and I gaze into his emerald eyes without a word. He nods, taking my hand in his, staring at the bruise that was starting to form. “I’ll help you out of this, Mona,” he determines, swirling his soothing f!ngersaround the purple splotch, “very soon.” With those words, he leans closer to my face, escalating my heartbeat, ma-king me almost tremble. Why is he getting so close? I⊠haven’t accepted him yet.
He cu-ps my face with his strong hands, brushing hisl-ips across my cheek. I look in wonder as the pain recedes, retreating back to where it c@mÂŁ from. As he lets go, I put my own hand to my cheek, feeling a slight we-tness where the blood used to be over the puckered skin. “This works better when I’m in wolf form,” he says apologetically, “but I didn’t want you to think I was going to eat your cheek off.”
“What did you do?” I question, my voice filled with awe.
“Werewolves’ saliva has light healing properties; it can soothe and mend small scratches,” he explains. So this we-tness…
“You spat on me?!” I exclaim in a loud whisper, shoving his arm away. He laughs as he wipes the saliva off my cheek, ru-bbing it on his shi-t. For a minute, it seems utterly natural, us both laughing and smiling as we sit in a room with only one be-d, an incredibly handsome man like him paired with a girl like me. None of the usual awkwardness surfacesâboth of us like little childrenâI actually p@rticipating in his games.
I push him off the be-d, and he thumps on the floor. His hair ruffled and messy, his white teeth shining, he seems now more human than ever. He stands up, a piece of white fluff sticking to his hair, and grins.
“Is this the real you, Mona?” he asks, using his all-knowing gaze to look into my soul. I stiffen a little at his words, a little perplexed.
“What do you mean? I’ve always been the real me.”
“No,” he argues, “you haven’t. From the first minute I met you, you had shut me out. You had built a wall around you, an impregnable one that nob©dy could surpas-s. But now it is broken, isn’t it, Mona? Don’t you feel better this way?”
In a moment of reluctance, I l@ydown on the ha-rd be-d. Somehow, the orphanage’s be-ds are ha-rder than the floor, and has given me many sleepless nights. Patting the place beside me, I beckon for Xavier to join me. There is shuffling, and then there is his breath as it mingles with mine, another presÂŁnce evident.
I point to the stars out of the window, the millions of tiny dots scattered in the de-ep night. “Once, when I was tiny, I asked my parents what stars really were. I had just finished watching The Lion King, and the p@rt about the ancestors were really confusing me. They told me that the stars weren’t really lions like the movie suggested, but people. Every star up there is a person that cared about me. When they died, they would join the stars and watch over me. They told me I would never be alone, for I would always have the stars as my companion.”
“And you believed that?” he sputters in laughter.
“Shut up, Xavier. I was 4!” I reach and pinch his arm, then continue on. “âŠEver since then, I have always wondered which star would be Mom, and which one would be Dad. I think that Mom would be a beautiful and bright star because of her boisterous personality, and that Dad would be a little bit more subdued. But most of all, I know that if they are up there, they would definitely be close together, almost tou-ching. Every night, I look up into the sky and try to find them, but I haven’t yet. I know it is silly to have faith in something like this, but it is the only way for me to feel like I am not alone.”
There is silence as we both scan the de-ep black, hoping to see the two lights that I know I will instantly recognize. “Mona… could you tell me what happened to them?” he questions timidly, unintentionally re-leasing the pain and sorrow from within. I wince as they are all f0rç£d to the front of my memory; my mom, dad, and the haunting red eyes.
“I guess I do owe you an answer at least,” I resignedly say, “you have saved my life many times.”
“Just tell me if you want to,” he urges, “only if you feel comfortable.”
“I’m fine,” I reas-sure him, though tears still brim on the edge of my eyes. There is silence as I form my words, and then I speak. “It was on a cold Friday morning when we were driving to the lake. We had rented a house there and were going to stay for a couple of weeks. It was a short drive, about thirty minutes, to reach the lake, so we just took Dad’s truck. We were very excited, laughing and smiling, my mother sitting with me in the backseat. Everything was perfect, like a fairytale.
It was about fifteen minutes into the journey that the weirdness started.
First, the chills. Shivers suddenly started to race up and down my back, shocking me. Coldness seemed to seep into my skin, and even though I was ti-ghtly bundled in a hvge jacket, that did nothing to st©p it.
Then there was the fear. I had no idea why, but I was deathly frightened. Of what, I had no clue.
And lastly, the darkness. Everything seemed to go black at this moment, yet I could still see. It was strange, as if it wasn’t an actual blackness, but only one inside my head. I thought I was going crazy.
Suddenly, a creepy white thing appeared⊠the same one as the creature you killed earlier. It had a b©dy like white mist and truly horrific eyes that could inflict terror just on its own. I screamed, trying to alert Mom, but she couldn’t see it. She couldn’t see the disastrous monster before me. Right then, the thing seemed to look at me with its awful gaze, delving into my soul. Then it turned, and focused on the man driving the car. Dad.
It devoured him. I could see it. The evil white ghost had charged into Dad’s che-st, and he had suddenly gone rigid. Mom noticed his behavior, and called Dad’s name, but he didn’t turn, or lift his hands from the steering wheel. But he always pressed the gear. Never, even in his last moments of life, did he re-lease the g@s.
Mom reached forward and t©uçhed Dad’s shoulder, and he finally turned. It was truly horrific, frightening us both. His face was expressionless, but his beautiful chocolate eyes had turned to a de-ep, fiery ru-by. Mom and I both started to panic, and she began to reach for the doors, to try to open them so we could both escape. But this stranger with the same face as father had locked them, imprisoning us both inside.
We began to approach a cliff, the bo-ttomof it piddled with rocks and bushes, upon which we had to pas-s to reach the lake. Dad pressed the gear even ha-rder, ignoring the 25 mph speed limit. We were going almost 70 mph now, signaling certain devastation. When we reached the turn right at the cliff’s beginning, Dad re-leased the steering wheel. He leaned his head back, the spirit dwindling within him. I watched in fear as we drove off the edge of the cliff, suspended in the air for a few seconds before falling to our deaths.
I… don’t know how I lived. Mom had jumped at me, shielding me with her b©dy, but it was a ten to fifteen foot drop, full of bounces and rolls. Everyone called my survival a miracle, and that my life was saved by God,” I whisper, “but w-why would God want to save me?” I bur-st into tears, the memories fresh and scything, hate brewing. Xavier watches me, his tears matching my own.
“It’s okay, Mona,” he murmurs as I cry, holding me ti-ghtly, “you have me now. I’m here for you.” I let the comfort surround me, feeling almost surprised at the fact that I wasn’t pushing him away. But now, I nee-ded him more than anyone.
“I hate them, Xavier!” I cry, my voice of anguish, “I hate the Shifters.” Everything becomes blurry, my voice more and more distant.
My eyes close, the droplets of sadness dripping down my cheeks, and I surrender myself into Xavier’s warm embr@ce, hoping he will soothe my wounded heart.
Tbc