Sweet Dreams Violet Moore
They parted without a word uttered, only tears as conversation. His tender hands had wrapped up her shame in white bandages. How many times had she done the same for him? Yet somehow this was different. He’d walked out the door when she wanted him to hold her, walked around with that scent.
The scent of another laced around his neck and on his lips around and within his clothes. He reeked of her. Whoever she was, she managed to hurt just as much as the other who had tormented her with a silver blade. This was a whole other realm of torture.
It wasn’t pain. It was grief.
She had wanted Clay to move on for so long that it hadn’t occurred to her how she would feel when he found someone else. Someone to plaster his wounds, someone to take care of him. Violet didn’t love him the way that this other wolf would. But Clayton had always been hers, and now he belonged to someone else.
The cuts stung as she tossed in her sheets. Her throat was closed up with the fear of the small girl granting Vi’s death wish, her eyes burned from the heartache of losing the only one she cared for. She tried to focus her mind on eradicating the issue, but only murder came to mind and it came as little comfort. She would hide in the other corner only to find herself wondering if he had gone to the other.
No where to run poor, pathetic Violet Moore. A monster exists purely in the darkness; there’s no light for you to own.
Exhausted from the night, her fear of the living gave way to the fear of her fantasy. A man with black hair and a skinny frame stood before her holding a silver knife, behind him a tiny girl spinning a silver bracelet. They were together as they moved. One step, slowly made. Violet was on a table, braces wrapped around her body restricting her movement. There was a growling that lingered in the air.
"Clay, what’s happening?" He was not in wolf form how could he growl with his voice so low and so eerie. "Clay, please help me, please." He stopped and the girl who followed him now moved to his side like it was a game of chess. Motionless they listened as the unknown howled. There was no moonlight but she could feel the darkness crawl beneath her skin.
She had been here before. In a grey tin room with no windows but a door that teased her with it’s golden handle. Unreachable, ready to be pushed. Then it came. The bite and then her first howl.
The two observers smiled as they watched a girl be murdered and a monster risen to take it’s place.
The screams of pain must have been loud because even the cold Gavin had rushed to her room to hold her down. He would never give up the opportunity for a fight, but this wasn’t the kind he was interested in. She gave him her thanks for holding her down and he left with a strew of complaints and curses to fill the air but one sentence rang through her eardrums as if they were still leaving his mouth.
Whoever the fuck caused that damage, make sure they are fucking dead.
The face of a young girl was soon joined by the appearance of a familiar male. Both of them mocking her with bright, gleaming smiles.