This is a direct follow up to this piece I posted. Hope you guys enjoy! I actually wrote this one awhile ago, so I hope it still stands up lol
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“It’s so cold and my mouth is numb, you should kiss me before we get frostbite.”
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It was their last day on the mountain before they had to go back home to California. Brooke was a little sad about it, the thought of having to get back to normal life and reality after this amazing getaway made her never want to leave. That was eased somewhat, by knowing that at least she wouldn’t have to leave Avery. They didn’t live right next door to each other, but they did live close enough that they would get to see each other often so that it wouldn’t even be a big deal.
To commemorate the trip, she and Avery decided, stupidly, to take a walk around the mountain to try and enjoy the last of the cold weather they’d feel for awhile. What they hadn’t anticipated was exactly how cold it was going to be, and they certainly didn’t think to look to see if it was going to be snowing or not. So now they were fighting through the snow trying to get back to their cabin and laughing like maniacs the whole time.
“This is the last time I let you talk me into something like this.” Brooke giggled and nudged Avery playfully.
“Aw, hey, you wanted to do this just as much as I did.” She reminded her with a grin. “This was our last chance to see the mountain before our flight in the morning.”
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t want to get frostbite in the process.” She laughed, the wind freezing her to the core, but still managing to enjoy it with Avery.
“Well, I mean once we get back to the cabin I’d have no problem if you wanted me to help warm you up or something.” She shrugged casually, but Brooke could easily see that smirk that was across her face.
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure you’d be willing to. We’ll see, I’m not very happy with you for talking me into this.” She was kidding, of course, but it was just so much fun to mess around and joke with Avery because she was so easy to laugh with and her sense of humor came so naturally.
“Fine, then, freeze to death, see if I care.”
Brooke rolled her eyes before shoving Avery again, making Avery cackle. But once she stepped back towards her, Brooke wrapped her arm around Avery’s and pulled her closer.
“It’s a good thing you’re cute.” Brooke told her, smiling.
“Funny, that’s what my mom tells me.” Brooke just laughed. Avery was such a dork.
Finally, finally, they made it back to their empty cabin. They trudged inside, shivering, but deliriously happy, especially once they slammed the door behind them leaving them in the warm, heater filled room.
“Ugh, thank God.” Brooke groaned. “Nice to be in a heated building again. And with no frostbite.”
“Hmm.” Avery muttered licking her lips a little. “I think my lips may have frostbite. You might need to kiss me to warm them up.”
Brooke just gave her a look as Avery grinned stupidly at her. “That was lame, even for you.”
Avery didn’t waver. “Is that a no then?”
Brooke just rolled her eyes but stomped over to give Avery a little peck just to satisfy her, but she certainly should have known better, because the second she started to back up, Avery’s hands were on her hips, pulling her in for a deeper, longer kiss.
Her lips were cold and scratchy, but her breath was warm and tasted like the apple cider they had a little while ago. It was impossible for Brooke not to melt into it. She had only known Avery for a little over a week, but she already felt like she could be completely comfortable around the girl. She didn’t even feel that comfortable around some of her friends, but with Avery they just clicked so naturally. And a romantic relationship was something they slid into so easily.
Two weeks ago Brooke was looking forward to a fun vacation with her friends, the last thing she expected was to meet someone like Avery, and to fall so hard for her at that in such a short amount of time. Everything melded so perfectly for them and she couldn’t help but look forward to what going back home to California would bring them. She was excited to see how things with Avery played out.
She pulled away after a few moments because she just couldn’t stop smiling. Avery just smirked at her and wrapped her arms all the way around Brooke’s waist and squeezed her tightly against her.
“I know I’m a good kisser and everything, but I didn’t think it warranted cheesing so hard.”
Brooke rolled her eyes and kicked her playfully, making Avery laugh and kiss her quickly once more.
“You’re such an asshole. As soon as we get back to California, I want nothing to do with you.” Brooke joked, playfully squirming away from Avery.
“Oh, really? Can’t handle the truth, I see?” She grinned, and fought back by lifting Brooke over her shoulder, making her squeal and laugh.
“Let me go!” She giggled madly as Avery twirled around in circle’s before finally dropping her onto the bed in a fit of laughter and climbing on top of her. “Like I said, you’re such an asshole.”
Avery just smirked and leaned down once again to kiss her and silence her laughter, both of them looking forward to the adventures the future in California were going to bring them.
"Sweetie, wake up. Mommy has some good news. We found your sister and we're going to go get her. Please come with us, we want you to be the first face she sees!" The thought of meeting his sister dazzled him, and the younger Everett Weston rushed out of bed, barely remembering his shirt.
He continuously asked his parents about this so-called sister the entire drive through the states. They ignored him, hushed him, or told him that everything would be answered soon enough. That was a good enough answer for him, so he piped down.
When they reached border patrol Everett was shoved under the seats by his father, claiming that there were only two people in the car. He later told Everett that since Ev didn't have a passport, they wouldn't let him go meet his sister.
They drove through the Canadian woods with glee, an strange tone in the air. Although Everett was excited, he grew more and more nervous by the second. Hours ago he accepted his parents' answers, but now he wanted more. How did they find her after all this time? What was she like? Had they spoken to her before? When he asked he was once again told the cryptic answer by his mother; "All will be revealed in time, my love."
When they finally arrived at the cabin, the tone had changed immediately. His parents wore a sinister grin and told him that these were the people who had taken her. Everett immediately believed his parents and were as enraged as them. He, his mother, and his father ran up to the house, tore down the door, and began looking through the house.
Her parents didn't stand a chance.
Everett reached back his hand to punch the man who had supposedly stolen his sister, but his father pushed Everett to the wall instead and ripped out the man's throat. Blood spurted from his wounds and his wife's scream still haunted Everett to this day. His wife nearly killed Everett's mother, but she too was killed in the end. Covered in blood, all three of them sauntered out into the snow, confused as to where Blake was.
And that was when she walked up, a poor little sixteen year old.
She saw the blood and screamed.
When she ran up to Everett and punched him, he knew his parents had lied and that life would never be the same again.
Brilliant blue eyes followed the swirls of the steam leaving the coffee cup on the table. Huh, maybe she could get to painting something like that sometime. The girl twirled her finger round in the air above the cup, drawing imaginary eights and causing the steam to create more of the interesting swirly patterns she'd been so amused by. However, something caught her eye. It took her a couple of glances before she confirmed to herself that it actually was Mark who had just walked in. A smile lit up the girl's face as she picked up her coffee cup and moved over to say hi; however, something stopped her before she was able to get there.
She hadn't experienced the same feeling since before she'd moved. God, it was the whole reason she'd moved here in the first place. Those same brilliant blue eyes which had been full of amusement seconds ago were suddenly clouded with fear as they stared down at the floor in front of her feet. She tried to relax herself and take a breath, but the air was getting caught in her throat, as if something was harshly applying pressure to her neck. No. She wouldn't fucking let anybody see her like this. The sunglasses which had been replacing a headband were harshly tugged over Aria's eyes as she half ran and half stumbled to the bathrooms.
More than thankful at the fact that there was nobody else inside, Aria moved herself into the room. She had honestly tried to place the coffee cup on the counter-top, however her shaking fingers and the overwhelming feelings taking over her entirety didn't allow her hand to move that fast, and the cup fell to the tiles. Moving away from the rapidly growing puddle of coffee on the floor, Aria spread her palms out flat onto the cold marble sink counter-top and hung her head in an attempt to settle her breathing. God, this wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Not even moving to a whole different place wasn't fucking good enough to stop these.
The girl couldn't help it; a choked, strangled sob escaped her lips and her knees sunk to the ground. The overwhelming feelings overpowered her every fiber, and no matter how much she tried to sort herself out, her breathing got more and more uneven and her hands shook violently. She was petrified, and so angry at herself for letting this happen at the same time. Her shaking fingers clenched into tiny fists until her knuckles paled, and she forced herself to sit against the door in order to keep anybody else outside. And she cried, and tried to reverse or stop what was happening, only to disappoint herself and end up crying even more. Moving hadn't stopped them. She didn't know what she was going to do. All she knew was that she couldn't let anybody find out.
He could imagine William as a beast - a disgusting form of nature that he had somehow come to love - staring up at himself. Blinking and watching with those same eyes that he had fallen for and then just like that his throat was being snapped. It cracked. It splintered. Blood burst from his wound and Charles was covered in it, but it didn't stop there.
William would be playing with Leslie when a young woman came in with a gun, shooting the wolf through the heart. William's bones would crack and deform until he was nothing like his William, but a shell of who he was. His blood would puddle around Leslie until she too flew away from him. An angel with battered wings, the both of them.
Or maybe they were together, cuddling and kissing beneath the covers when a masked figure would come and tear the covers off of them before doing the same to William. Charles would be sitting in a puddle of blood, fingers, arms, legs, everything surrounded him and William's lifeless eyes stared at him, asking him why he didn't try to save him.
Charles punched the oak tree in the backyard until his fingers were bleeding and bruised. He walked into the house, a zombie of his former self and cleaned his hands. He couldn't take care of Leslie if his hands were broken. Stained from not protecting the man he loved.
He could see William's blank eyes staring at him while his mouth moved - there was a gaping hole in his body and blood poured out of him. But his mouth moved. "Why didn't you save me? Look what you did. I'm dead because of you. Why didn't you save me? Look what you did. I'm dead because of you. Why didn't you save me? Look what you did. I'm dead because of you."
But then he willed the image away and got pissed. He refused to let himself become weak. Charles loved William - that man was an angel in disguise and he would be damned if he would be weak when William needed him.
Charles was so broken, but he got the glue and decided to fix himself for Leslie. For William.
If his parents were awake right now, they'd yell at him to get out of the rain. But it was the middle of the night and they had long ago fell asleep seeing as they both had jobs to get to in the morning.
There was no lightning. No thunder. Just rain.
Will thought it would feel cleansing. That the rain would soak deep into his bones and purge all the pain and death from him. To erase the fate he pictured every time he closed his eyes. Every time it was a new face. It was his parents, throats slashed. Charles with a hole in his heart. Remus with a skull bashed in. Emily her hair stained in blood red. Ben eyes wide and vacant finally with his family again. Grace screaming so loudly she ruins her vocal chords.
They're all dead.
There's a loud noise and Will's eyes fly open to meet headlights from a car. Gasping wildly, Will throws himself out of the way even though deep down a part of him wanted to stay routed in spot and see if the driver would hit him or break soon enough to stop.
Thunder cracked in the air around him. It drowned out his scream.
"William!"
How was his mom talking with her throat slashed like that? How was she running towards him? His eyes flickered over his mom's shoulder and saw his dad standing on the front porch his throat drenched in blood too.
He screamed again.
Cold hands wrapped themselves around his upper arms firmly and he looked up at his mom. There was so much blood on her face. So much blood down the front of her shirt. It was all his fault. If he never got bit that night they would never be targets.
"William!" His dad's voice carried over the wind and rain, but his mom stopped him from moving towards them with her palm facing him in a clear signal to stop.
Her hand was smeared with blood.
A half-scream and half-sob ripped from William's throat and he wrenched himself away from his mom. "I'm sorry." He screamed at her - backing away his feet touching the sidewalk now, his back to the street. "I'm so sorry, it's all my fault. All my fault." He sobbed brokenly.
He couldn't see his mom anymore. She was a blur behind his tears. His heart hurt. It hurt so much. God, he wanted to give up. He was so tired. So tired of being fucking scared. So tired of stepping up when no one else would. So tired of being angry at the hunters. At Ben for being gone for those two months. At life for doing this.
He just wanted it to be over. He can't even remember what being happy felt like.
"I'm sorry." He whispered again as his tears mixed with the rain on his face.
"William - Will just walk towards me please. Honey there's a car coming." His mom's eyes were wide, the eyes he inherited from her. They were so full of fear.
Why was she alive? She should be dead.
Headlights illuminated her and his dad, bright figures against the dark backdrop of Florence. They had to be angels. Angels here to guide him.
Or angels here to make his death easier.
He stepped backwards into the street.
The sound of brakes trying to stop against wet pavement filled his ears. Along with the screams of his parents. Why were they screaming? He was joining them? Shouldn't they be happy?
William didn't feel the car hit him. All he knows is that one minute he was standing and the next his body folded against the hood of the car, his head smacking the windshield violently.
It was almost surprising how good at pretending Remus had become. It wasn't like he was one to underestimate himself, either, but even he could never have seen himself becoming this adept at masking the way he felt.
More than anything, he was tired. He put on a full-blown masquerade any time he left the confines of his own bedroom, pretending that every time he looked over his shoulder he was checking for traffic rather than an on-coming attack, pretending that when he smiled it was because he was pleased rather than just clinging to a small thread of what he used to be to keep himself from unraveling. Despite the draining charade, it seemed that when he finally closed his eyes all he could see was terror. It came to him in waves; first, it was Hannah, lying on the ground with her eyes staring blankly at Remus, her neck bruised from where it had been so brutally snapped, as if she was waiting for him to explain to her why he'd let a past member of his pack to be killed. Next, it was Grace, clawing at her own chest to try and pull out the heart that had betrayed her so for so foolishly trusting him, and then allowing itself to let in Troy. Third, it was Will, fighting a losing battle with so many on coming demons that Remus was surprised he hadn't already given up. Fourth, he saw his entire pack, all staring at him with eyes that said he wasn't one of their own, all of them slowly turning their backs one by one and walking in to a pit of fire, so lethal and unwavering. Last, he'd see Eva. On every other image he could rely; no matter what, it was always the same for them. His fears were brought to life in a familiar way, but with Eva... always, always it was something new. In his mind, he'd seen her being torn to pieces by masked men. In his mind, he'd seen her fall so willingly over the side of a cliff edge. In his mind, he'd seen her turn away from him for a place that he'd never seen before; the only place she was safe.
But, it was when he opened his eyes and saw her for real that he was the most terrified. In the dark, she'd lie there in his arms, so vulnerable and fragile -- so opposite to what she was when she was awake -- and he'd wonder at how he'd let himself fall in love with a girl that was so breakable. Because, in the end, the most frightening of all wasn't what he saw; it was what he couldn't see -- what he couldn't even possibly imagine.
GENERAL NOTES: There's a flashback that happens in here. So technically she's still in her apartment. Sorry I didn't get this in sooner!
Ash sipped her coffee. It was funny how even though she knew how to make any sort or variation of java on Earth, she still took her coffee black. Maybe it was a Rogerson thing. A shiver went down her spine, but not one of the nice ones. The kind that made her want to put on gloves and turn on the fireplace or hop into the oven. It was Rogerson's fault. That's what she told herself. And it was true. Right?
It wasn't like she hated him or anything, she had mostly, and I say mostly, gotten over it. What bothered her was his nerve. They had been in love- serious love. But now, she wondered. It had seemed so easy for him to just, bite her. It didn't make sense. Would he do this to her if he cared?
These were questions that Ashlyn perpetually tortured herself with. It didn't matter that he was gone and that she'd never see him. These were facts that she forced herself to not take into reason. And there was a part of her that didn't want to see him again, and there was one that ached for it. It was less in resolve than fear or anger for him. She didn't want to hit or kick him or hurt him for that matter. He just wanted to look him in the eyes and know that he had taken something away from her. A life. She could've had everything. A stable job, a child. Not anymore. She was stuck working at a lowly end coffee shop in the summertime and counting down the years before she couldn't turn human again. And that, she thought, was all him. And something about remembering that she wasn't him was strangely idyllic.
So as Ashlyn sat milling about listlessly in her small, studio apartment, twirling her cup of black coffee and thinking about the boy she spent a year with who, if it had been different, she might have spent more with. So when it all came back in a cascade of past, Ashlyn wasn't surprised. She had been asking for it. It was only fair that she flashbacked.
Ash walked along a tightrope of a sidewalk. Her head pounded with dehydration and her mouth tasted like virus. She had thought she was getting better, but it had been ephemeral, and perhaps a figment of her mind. She stopped for a moment to get sick on the curb before sitting down hard on the pavement. She ripped off the scarf she had been wearing to keep warm, and another wave of nausea threatened to be a tsumani. She brushed shaking fingers over the open sore on her neck and thought about Rogerson.
Maybe it was thinking about him, or maybe his insouciance about the whole thing. Maybe it was the cold September air brushing against her bare neck. But a wave came over the blonde that was not nausea. And it occured to her that she might not be human anymore. And just as she brushed the thought off incredulously, she started turning. It did not pass quickly, but the monster inside her took its time. She crawled off into a patch of shadow, hoping she didn't look as coarse as she felt.
That's when her skin became a pelt and her eyes became daggers and her cheekbones became a long snout. She screamed as her humanity was ripped away in small, uncious bites, bites from her wolfish teeth. She didn't have time to stop and think about what was happening to her, but she remembered Rogerson, and his feral growl before leaping at her. Part of her knew that it wasn't him that committed that crime. And she didn't want to commit one as well.
She loped off into the woods, tail between her legs, stopping again to dry heave. Something she couldn't feel in her mind but in her physical form was creeping up from her legs. A sense of liberty from her limiting human body. She could be anything, thanks to Rogerson. So as she flew through the woods, she allowed herself to be grateful to her monster boyfriend. A monster that now, was her.
LOCATION: University Medical Center Hamburg-Eppendorf, Hamburg, Germany
GENERAL NOTES: Someday I will learn to write. That day is not yet upon us. Okay! Sammy in the hospital after being found/getting stitched up and his leg amputated, and the start of the events that landed him there in the first place.
Charging toward him, it's—not it, he, it's a he, and he's on fire, he's naked? The clothes have burned off. The skin’s burning off.
JENKINS, FUCK IT, ST—
Why English, why's he speaking English ain't he—
STOP DROP AND ROLL YOU DUMB ASS FUCKER
The it, the he drops alright, like a stone, face first and silent except for whistling shells, and the distance blurs and his own hands beat at flesh without a face anymore not much flesh left not, he can smell it and it sticks to his hands, flaking off sluggishly as the flames starve and are reborn in fat blisters, puss and bubbling up from skin like lava, bursting to burn again and they're still firing nine men, four left, Howler's got a piece of the truck through his eye, looks like a railroad spike, half his torso's gone, like great white shark took a bite and it smells like piss and vomit burning skin heat's closer and CRA—
It's his own shout that wakes him up this time, from sleep but not from horror, and he sees his hands first, white knuckled and shaking, curled like a claws around the shoulders of the uniform the nurse babbling at him in panic is wearing, and he thinks, simply, that she'll bruise and he's sorry for it, but the apology is lost in the waves red that have no name but shriek in his vision and someone else is pulling him off, and he instinctively tries to shift but there's nothing under him, it isn't there to support him—he can feel it, why isn't it there?—and they both fall, hitting the ground with a bang that rattles him, sends a tray skittering across tile like a metal bug, and he can still smell vomit and no surprise, it's there, he can see it on the white robe trying to steady him, but with it he can smell the rest, and he closes his eyes and doesn't recognize the growling, agonized howl as coming from his own throat, can't feel it vibrate against chords already raw, and the hands that grab him make his own skin set on fire, and he does recognize that yell as being his, and clamps down on it before it escapes because he can't, he can't—-
Sam, it’s the nurse. She's a nurse. Isn't she? She looks like one.
