i.Crawl // Sammy
3.12.19
He could feel the annoyance within him as if there were a machine that was threading the very components of his muscles, his veins, even the nerves near his spine. Dark eyes averted to the wall, the muted yellow that it was, near a borderline beige, something that was meant to look professional as opposed to soothing, even though he knew it was exactly what the original people were aiming for. Feet tapped, the soles making no noise, only the movement of the cloth of his utility pants doing anything. His nose repulsed in the smell wafting up from the bag near his feat, arms forcing themselves to stay folded so that it kept in innards in.
It hadn’t been easy, but it was done. Finding someone that looked like Kaden was a bit difficult, but the head on the bag was an easy comparison.
”Mr. Tolbert?” a female’s voice called out, echoing through the empty waiting room he had been motioned towards. Eyes looked up quicker than they should have, a snake going towards its next prey. What was he even doing there? Things had been perfectly fine for him, apart from only having the entirety of those he had grown close to – albeit the three people – having nothing to do with him and being stuck with the sad excuse of hunters in the community. He didn’t need his family, Sammy knew he would have been fine with forcing connections and developing them. He would have been fun allowing his world to revolve around his business. So, why was he following a woman in loafers through a hall? “In here. The committee is waiting for you.”
Of everything, why was he going to talk to a committee about a kill he had made and bring them proof?
Nothing was his style, yet here he was, meeting with others in something other than a suit, more specifically, his hunting gear, and above all, carry a decapitated head. None of it was his style, yet Sammy was still there.
”I brought the bag for proof on the matter, but I was given no choice but to eliminate the existence before seeing credentials,” Sammy started with, already walking over to take a seat with people he had already met with. They were the same people he had to disclose matters pertaining to his weapons, the very same faces that gave him the blessing to stay in the city as long as he tied up any loose ends that thought they could kill without licenses. To strip them of the usage of his weapons, for his own self-satisfaction, and bring the others to nothing to the satisfaction of the excuse of a government New York City had. “A witch. Used magic against another, tried to do the same with me, so I took her out.” He kept out the true reasoning on why he brought the head it, but from the reaction that was received by one of the officials, he was sure they got what was in the bag. It was a pivotal part of why he was there, that was something he had to keep reminding himself.
”What’s with just the head, Tolbert? Is that necessary?”
The pointed chin was drawn into the direction, his rustled hair down upon his forehead, but he kept it there. The witch hadn’t used magic, he just knew she was of magical descent. Her name was Mallory, and from what he had got, she would use it on innocent passerby’s to hurt themselves. In all honesty, it was the easiest on his conscious to take out. “I’m told there’s others who like doing that necromancy and bringin’ ‘em back. Yes. It is,” he fluidly lied, taking the water that was being passed to him and taking a quick sip. Sammy removed the gloves on his hands after putting the bottle back down, the blood upon the leather beginning to dry, especially since he had already gone through with burning the lower half of the body. “It’s actually the witch that…”
Another drink was taken, more so half of the bottle was draining as he looked over at the clock. The exact time. Nine thirty-seven. “It’s the witch you guys’ve been looking for. The one Davidson refuses to talk about.” And there it was. It wasn’t fair to Sammy, but now it was fair. Kyle had stopped one of his blood from getting hurt or killed, now the debt was paid. Vouching for him meant they were even, and if the meeting remained a secret, then it should be enough to satiate both his fear of being exiled from the hunting community and enough to let Kaden know he still cared.
”I thought you said you knew nothing about that night? You were just there?”
Sammy shrugged, pulling off the leather jacket he wore after zipping the high neck off, releasing the thermal he wore beneath. He didn’t like explaining himself, especially if it were to clear any misconceptions or questions that slow-minded people couldn’t put together. “I knew who to look for and took care of it,” he answered shortly. A clean hand finally went up to brush back the hair that had been irritating him since it fell. “I don’t have to let you know what I’m doing, only if I need your help, as agreed. But it’s done. She’s caught and you guys need to release the charges.” The fact that he knew what kind of upper hand he held in the room was something that helped square his shoulders and allow the power to radiate from him. They all knew that he was scratching all of their backs, and in return they would rid the city of any falsified hunters, of violence against “innocent” supernaturals, and also receive information on supernaturals that his family could provide.
”We can’t do that just because you brought us a head. It doesn’t work like that!”
Sharp eyes turned, their darkness reflecting the same death that could be caused. The darkness he inherited from his mother’s end of the family, a gaze without remorse. A depth that led nowhere if necessary. “It works like that for me. That’s my negotiation. You get the cause, clear the affected. Unless I’m forced to reconsider my agreement with the lot of you, then perfect, ‘cause I already thought I was giving y’all too much.” Sammy had spoken too much, knowing full well that, normally, it wouldn’t be as much as he would say. But it was all necessary. Kaden and Andrew would both know what he had done, they didn’t need to know what had been molding between the lines. “Her name was Mallory Paulson, she had no alibi for the night, would use her magic on others, wreaking havoc or whatever it was you guys put a spin on. Don’t even mention Davidson, nor myself, but say she was the one behind the alley demolition. That simple. Keep my name out.”
He couldn’t handle it any longer. The annoyance had taken fully over his body, and though there was a weight that had dropped from his shoulders, it was still very much present on his head. Pushing down on the bones that tried to balance themselves so strategically. Without anything else, he grabbed his gloves, shoving them in his pocket as he took his jacket, feeling the flakes of blood upon his gripped hand. “I’ll get you the bloodwork samples from my mother if this gets done. Taxes can pay for the damages.” Sam was already at the door, twisting it open before looking sideways, not fully at them. “You know where to get ahold of me, but if I don’t see any changes in twenty-four hours, I’ll let them know it was you. By them, that’s who you get to be afraid of.”
3.14.19
The face of the woman looked familiar. The curve of her face, the same hair consistency. The anger upon her features was something he’d never seen, but the air that she gave off was definitely something Sam recognised. “You’re gonna have to explain yourself, ma’am,” he replied to her, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He texted his brother his location, usually when that happened, it was when they were preparing to do something that could potentially have a certain outcome that one’s location was necessary to retrieve a body. As she started to yell back, he zipped the jacket pocket, fingers already fiddling with the trigger that would bring forth his knife. “Oh, cut the shit, I know you killed her, you fucking asshole,” she replied. Definitely a witch.
Playing the ignorant game and staying in the light of public would be on his side. That was exactly what he had to do. Whether she was a werewolf or a witch, which is exactly what she was, Sammy would prefer the werewolf any day. Witches were unpredictable, and he didn’t know how to determine what they would do, unlike a vampire or a werewolf would show. A foot was taken backwards, movements confident despite the tinge of fear he had. It was why all hunters hated witches – you couldn’t see their anger, predict their next move due to their eyes or fangs. There weren’t any pedestrians walking, nor was there any sounds coming. The typical route of getting him to the hotel faster was now doing the opposite. “Look. Whatever you got going on with you or whoever it is, go figure it out with her, I’m just walkin’ here,” he said, already going to continue on.
Then he couldn’t.
Fear. It had been a long time since he had felt it. Sure, there had been adrenaline in his veins when he killed the witch earlier, and now that he was getting a better look at the woman harassing him, it was clear what had happened – he had been sloppy. Or maybe she had laced a tracker on her… “Was it your sister, or somethin’? ‘Cause you look familiar, but I’m not from here, so, pardon, don’t know who you are.” He still couldn’t move. It was like the floor had taken ahold of his feet, the cement becoming quicksand that refused to release him from its grasp. His hands were still available to his mind, but going for the gun beneath his armpit was not an option, it would be too obvious. If she were able to keep him in place, it meant she could spar with a quickness that would surpass his movements. Distance meant nothing if she could manipulate the earth around them.
”You think we seriously go around in one’s around here, dumb ass? I was there. I saw you shoot her when she wasn’t looking!”
A smile crossed his lips in reply, and a portion of him was sad that she couldn’t see it. He had to think of what he could do. Risk shooting. Wait for her to look him in the eye so he could stab her. The smile stopped when he realised what his hand was doing, triggering the hidden blade without so much as the thought even fully coming into existence to do so in his mind. “What are you doing.” Sammy could feel his muscles cramping from the refusal his mind was forcing, trying to control his own actions and not being able to. “My fucking sister?”
Fear. It was everywhere.
Unlike others before her, the witch held no qualms for theatrics, the blade going straight for his ribs as Sammy was forced to impale it between the crevices of the bones and into his left lung. It didn’t hurt, only screamed. If the inflicted part could, his skin would scream in a torturous agony. Lungs would gurgle our in fear as it was drowned. And just as her hold had been on him, it was gone in an instant, the clicks of her boots rounding to the side of his head. Dark eyes that always head the life of a corpse were now alive with the fear the surged in their depths. Staring up at the nearly familiar face with only one thought in his head, to shoot. Her foot was already sailing, but his hand was reaching for the gun tucked away, aiming and pulling the trigger just as her heel made impact with Sammy’s head.
