A Howl In The Night - Romance, thriller, paranormal

[sexy_parul]

Why Am I Always The Damsel In Distress?


The ghostly figure zooms towards me, its deathly intent clearly evident. However, I don't notice its speed at all, my mind suspended in a hazy fog of memories that are coming together, returning at an alarming speed. The screams I had heard earlier starts again, reverberating throughout my thoughts, distracting me from the present. I clearly hear two voices, one high pitched and the other a little lower but still womanly. The one that clearly belonged to an older woman strikes pain in my chest, recognition forcing itself to the surface. That beautiful voice, contorted with pain and surprise...

Mom. My eyes widen as everything comes back; the pain, the sorrow, the hurt.

The tears start to flow as the ghost hastens to meet his destination. I can remember every detail now; the way those creatures had delved into him... when his eyes turned a frightening red...

It finally reaches me, barely more than a whisper of air, charging towards my chest. However, the ghost bounces off, my body suddenly surrounded with an eerie glow. What is this? It is green and bright, like the emerald in my ring, almost like one of those auras I have read about in fantasy books.

I back up against a huge oak tree, fear mounting in my heart. Am I going to live against this deathly thing? How can I fight against something I don't even understand?

I watch the deathly creature, at its cloudy form and its bright red eyes. They are like lasers, ripping into me, seizing my terror and amplifying it. My heart beats faster as the horrifying eyes squint, determination in its depths. Foreboding races through my blood, symbolizing what is to come.

I wrap my arms around my knees, burying my face into my legs as the ghost once again zooms my way. This, I suppose, is my punishment for disobeying Xavier's orders. But how was I supposed to know there is a way out of the boundaries without crossing the moat?!

Peeking once more at the apparition, I almost shriek as I survey its closeness. It seems to be observing the things around me, as if it is looking for something. I shudder as it crosses its murderous gaze across my body, hunched up into a tiny ball. It looks at the tree behind me, a huge one that might even be four foot in diameter, and smirks with its beady eyes. With a screech that cuts through the air and makes my blood run cold, the white blur of energy delves into the oak tree, making me wonder exactly what is going on.

I stand up, turning to face the tree as it suddenly whirs with energy. Bright, fire-like sparks explode from the trunk, blood seeming to run down it. It rapidly grows in size, from four feet in diameter to around five feet, and who knows how much taller. Before, it seemed to be rather lifeless, an old tree that had reached its peak, but somehow, it now looks youthful. Scarier.

This tree is taller than the others by far, stretching to reach the clouds. I am fervently wishing for the werewolves to see it, but they are probably consumed with whatever they are talking about. It sounded important when I tried to eavesdrop, though I didn't quite understand their topic.

It is Ray's fault, I think feverishly, for casting me out of their meeting room. He probably knew I would find some trouble to involve myself in. But I can't truly blame it on him. It is my fault for taking those first steps towards the dangerous road. It is my fault for not sticking to the beautiful garden.

And now, I am going to pay.

The tree totters, swaying in that rough wind. My dress presses against me, forced back by the terrible gales. The force of the wind increases, nearly pushing me to the ground as the tree reaches full height and strength. It ripples with energy, the bright red crackling around it like lightning. The wind seems to circle around this giant monster, almost like a tornado with its speed and focus.

But then, there is a crack that stops my heart.

The tree suddenly snaps, the red energy possessing it still. The breaking of the suddenly colossal tree surprises me; with its newfound strength, it seemed to be invincible. It almost looks to be a deliberate breaking, the now severed trunk cut cleanly and smoothly. How is it doing that? What is going on?

I hardly notice the tree as the rest of it tumbles towards me, my thought muddled with confusion. It must be the ghost. The ghost is controlling the tree!

Wait... I glance upwards, at the blur of speed as it travels to squish me. "Oh no," I whisper, my voice shriveled and weak. I try to scream, but I can't. I am frozen solid with pain, fear, and hate.

I can’t move.

I can’t think.

I really am going to die, aren’t I? No more silly games of hide and seek. Death has found me, sinking his talons into my skin. Glaring at me with his giant red eyes that haunt my memories.

But what, truly, do I have to live for?

I think of a certain man, with emeralds for eyes and azure hair that sparkles in the bright sunlight. He would miss me for sure.

My cheeks burn as a tear runs past my eyelashes, down my chin, onto my ratty clothes. I wonder why I am crying, when I had tried to commit suicide only two days ago. But so much has changed since then. There is so much more...

Right before the tree hits the ground, squelching me in the process, there is a thump. Glancing upwards, I wonder why I am not dead yet. Why the pain is only inside of me, blinding my thinking. There are no scratches on my arms and legs, only dirt and leaves, making me wonder if this is only a dream. There is no way this can happen in real life. I am just going crazy, imagining such nonsense.

But then why does my head hurt so much?

I stagger, scanning the area for the tree with the evil red sparks. Everything is going blurry, the screams blocking everything. My mother’s thin voice, repeating itself over and over and over...

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice erupts through the void, ripping its way towards my understanding. I blink, my eyes focusing. The masculine voice seems to harness my thoughts and drag it to reality, everything becoming clearer.

It is then that I notice that the tree is lying to the side of me, held by a man who has saved my life three times in the past two days. His muscled arms bulge as he lays the colossal tree on the ground, his beautiful eyes widening at the red sparks exploding from it. The eyes narrow, his fist drawing back and slamming into the trunk of the tree. There is a boom, shaking me to my knees, like a tiny earthquake. I look up once more, to see the tree almost in splinters. The red is gone, and so is the ghost that vanished into it. How did he do that in one punch?

The handsome man runs my way, wrapping his firm arms around me concernedly. “Are you okay?” he repeats the question, taking one now gentle finger and stroking some strands of my ruby red hair. I lean against him for a second, dwelling in his warmth and comfort, trying to throw out the endless pain. There is silence, and then the hurt leaves me, only leaving cold memories that stain my heart.

“How did you do that?” I waste no time, grabbing one of his hands, marveling at the lack of cuts and splinters, “you made a little earthquake!”

He laughs, “it’s called an Earthquake Punch. It is something werewolves have to train for years and years to attain, and one of the six Talents. Now answer my question.”

“Well, I’m not hurt, but...” I squeeze his hand tightly, almost delirious with confusion, “what was that ghost thing?”

His eyes widen, bafflement dancing across his features. “You... saw it?”

“Yeah. It was so scary, with its bright red eyes...” I shudder, causing him to pull me into a hug. I am too tired to care, although stiffening slightly at his movement.

“Everything’s okay, Mona,” he murmurs as I bury my face into his chest. I need his warmth, the security he offers. For it seems that I won’t find survival anywhere else. After a while, he slowly breaks apart, leading me with him back the way we both came.

His form straightens as we walk, I turning away from him in embarrassment. He must think I'm pitiful, always needing to be saved. I used to think of myself as being independent and able to support myself, but this one day has convinced me otherwise.

The ground beneath us crunches, the leaves producing a snap as they crack. Whispers of the past wind, once a terrible gale, still brush our hair and shoulders, dancing along our skin. I now feel cold and almost emotionless, the pain having eliminated all other feelings. And now that the pain is gone, there is nothing.

When we finally reach the garden, four miraculous figures come to meet us, each handsome in their own unique way. Wes stares at me, his gaze of concern. “What happened, Xavier?” he questions the man beside me, drinking in his face of weariness.

“A Shifter,” he narrows his eyes, “was on our property.” The stunning men all rear back in surprise, pure disgust lacing through their features.

“Here?” Jake erupts, his voice furious. Ray shakes his head, Yi looking at the perfectly manicured lawn near his feet. I breathe a quick sigh of relief; I hadn't exited the grounds. Now Xavier can't get mad at me.

"Why didn't you just stay in the garden?" he turns to me, his expression of anger, "if I hadn't look out of the window and seen that gigantic tree, you would have died!"

Obviously I thought too soon. Xavier can get mad at me for anything.

My eyes narrow, my determination showing through the terror. "What was that white thing?!" I demand, "Tell me now!"

Ray's eyes widen, his expression suddenly of excitement. "Xavier," he begins, "if that girl's a Seer, then we might be able to get ourselves a Spier! Imagine what we would be able to do..."

"No," he says fiercely, "I won't allow it. Ever." His face is hard and resolute, his hair sparkling in the beating sun. I look up at him, at his lightly tanned skin, straight nose, and absolutely gorgeous eyes, and frown.

"Tell me," I nearly growl, invoking an irritated glance from wolfboy himself.

"Okay, we will," he huffs, "come on." He drags me towards the mansion, the others following behind.

We enter the mansion doors, where I once again am faced with those evil, all knowing eyes. I shut my own in response, not wanting to see their brightness, the terrifying memories they cause. Xavier glances upwards with me, but doesn't shy away like I do.

"Are those what you saw?" he asks. I only nod, trying not to gaze into their fiery depths. His face seems to grow more certain as he walks, though darker than usual. His hand is like a steel bar across my back, not loving and comforting like it usually is... and I hate to admit that I miss it.

We enter the small room once more, with Xavier lifting me up easily and placing my form on the bed. The rest of the pack shuffles inwards, Ray swinging the door shut with a loud clang.

Immediately the interrogation starts. "How can you see a Shifter?" Yi asks in amazement.

"Are you a Spier?" Jake stupidly questions, causing a slap from Ray.

"Wow, Xavier, picking a Seer as your mate. Aren't you sly," Wes comments with a slight smirk.

"Shut up, everybody!" Xavier roars, causing even Wes to fall silent, "let's answer Mona's questions first." He peers into my eyes, disarming me with one glance. "Go ahead, Mona," he whispers, somehow making the words seem intimate and exciting, "we will tell you everything you want to know."

I choke on a breath at his close proximity, pulling away slightly. I tilt my head, wondering what exactly I want to know. What I need to know.

Might as well start with the basics. "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 butter from his lips, "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 sense 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 hard 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 can’t 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. Under his gaze, I feel tingles of terror shiver through 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 fingers into 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, roughly releasing 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 moans, 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.

"It’s 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 need jealousy," Xavier laments, his voice rough and full of anguish, "we need 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, his lips as he forms his next words. It is all—his face, his body, his every movement—perfect.

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 faster, and I suddenly find it hard 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 touches I am used to. His movements are stiff and brisk, each step robotic. Even his grip on my arm is strange, so tight that it almost cuts off my circulation.

We pass through 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 burst into tears. Xavier doesn't seem to notice my sudden insecurity, his expression unchanging.

He pulls 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 tightening. It feels like it is going to explode; my hand, my whole body, 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 flushed. 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 hug, his touch now like before. After a minute, he pulls 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 through 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 embrace, he begins to zoom through 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 orphanage—a collage of graffiti, brick, scattered paint, and rough landscaping—and 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 barely 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, making me feel more alone than ever. I never thought I would miss his desire 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 fingers, 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, grabbing me in the arm so tightly that I wince. My head shakes as she drags me over to the kitchen. With long, switch-like fingertips, she slashes me, slapping my skin with all her might. Pain erupts, vivid, dastardly hurt that spreads throughout my entire body like wildfire. She smirks 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 slap, 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 flinch at the word bathroom; they are so dirty that the orphanage usually has to bring in a professional cleaning team to get it done.

"Please, Ms. Penn," I beg, my voice anguished, “I 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 gasp, 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 bed, 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 wet 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 branch 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 flip the lock. With a little pain from the hand Xavier had hurt, I forced it open, wondering how Xavier can fit into such a tiny space.

Suddenly, a creamy white mass flings itself through the window, landing on the same bed I am in. He peers at me with his emerald eyes, the wolf part of Xavier, and morphs into the handsome man that is coupled with the beautiful beast.

His eyes widen at my cheek, stained ruby red with blood, pain, and tears. "What happened?" he asks, somehow compelling me to betray the truth.

"Ms. Penn, uh, slapped me," I finish in a whisper, choked gasps escaping me as a fresh wave of pain enters my body. 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.”

"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 fingers around the purple splotch, "very soon." With those words, he leans closer to my face, escalating my heartbeat, making me almost tremble. Why is he getting so close? I… haven't accepted him yet.

He cups my face with his strong hands, brushing his lips across my cheek. I look in wonder as the pain recedes, retreating back to where it came from. As he lets go, I put my own hand to my cheek, feeling a slight wetness 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 wetness...

"You spat on me?!" I exclaim in a loud whisper, shoving his arm away. He laughs as he wipes the saliva off my cheek, rubbing it on his shirt. For a minute, it seems utterly natural, us both laughing and smiling as we sit in a room with only one bed, an incredibly handsome man like him paired with a girl like me. None of the usual awkwardness surfaces—both of us like little children—I actually participating in his games.

I push him off the bed, 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 nobody could surpass. But now it is broken, isn't it, Mona? Don't you feel better this way?"

In a moment of reluctance, I lay down on the hard bed. Somehow, the orphanage's beds are harder 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 presence evident.

I point to the stars out of the window, the millions of tiny dots scattered in the deep night. "Once, when I was tiny, I asked my parents what stars really were. I had just finished watching The Lion King, and the part 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. "…Ever 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 touching. 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 deep 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 releasing the pain and sorrow from within. I wince as they are all forced 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 reassure 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 tightly bundled in a huge jacket, that did nothing to stop 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 body 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 chest, 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 gas. Never, even in his last moments of life, did he release the gas.

Mom reached forward and touched 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 deep, fiery ruby. 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 bottom of it piddled with rocks and bushes, upon which we had to pass to reach the lake. Dad pressed the gas even harder, 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 released 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 body, 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 burst 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 tightly, "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 needed 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 embrace, hoping he will soothe my wounded heart.

[sexy_parul]

Since When Was Being Kidnapped A Good Thing?
The afternoon air is crisp and cold, dancing along a tiny girl's bare shoulders as she rolls down the windows. She shivers slightly as the air turns into a rushing wind, slapping at her cheeks. Angered by its sudden force, she rolls up the window quickly, lunging at her beautiful mother for comfort.

"Now, now, sweet child, calm down," the goddess says, the words melting like butter through her lips. Her hair was a deep ruby red, her eyes as green as a meadow on a bright summer day. Her daughter has the same features, sharing almost no likeness with her dad. However, the girl is blessed with her father's enchanting, hearty laugh and quiet personality.

The girl is sniffling in the woman's embrace, reveling in the warmth the lady gives. Now she is not crying because of the ferocious wind, but because of the foreboding laced through the air, the foreboding only she can sense. It brings with it great cold, its deathly claws sinking into the girl's tiny body.

The foreboding morphs in an instant to a bone-crushing fear, amplifying the chills that are resounding throughout her body, making her heart ache. It is like spikes of ice are being driven through her chest, even the air freezing from cold and raw terror.

Everything around the little girl suddenly turns black, although she can still see the green of her mother's eyes, the back of her father's head as he maneuvers them down the winding road. It seems to be in the girls mind, although her vision is still perfect. The girl starts screaming now, the whole world going dark before her eyes. Her mother's arms do nothing to calm her, for she has lost all traces of sanity.

Or maybe not.

Suddenly, all these strange symptoms begin to come together as out of the darkness, a creature emerges. With a body like a cloud, and truly horrendous fiery eyes, it is a thing like no other. A spirit. A ghoul.

She screams, "MONSTER!" but her mother does not see. The expression of horror on the girl's face is not gracing her mother's fair complexion. She is just looking at her daughter in bafflement, not at the true cause of it all. Why can't she detect the supernatural beast?

Then, the living fear stares at the girl, terrorizing her with a single look. The eyes burn like lasers through her skin, reaching deep into her soul.

Through those eyes, she sees hell.

Then it vanishes, and the world slightly brightens. But the cold is still there. The fear is vibrant, thriving in the tiny truck. Where did it go? She can sense its presence, its disgusting scent hanging below her nostrils.

Suddenly, her father's body becomes as stiff as a board, and she knows.

It is then that the little girl realizes that nothing is ever going to be the same again.



My eyes fly open, not willing to experience the nightmare once more. The cold claws of fear are gripping at my chest, just like it had years and years ago, the memories striking fury in my chest. It is endless, preserved in my scarred mind, raining upon me like millions of death blows. Poison, making me rot from the inside. Why am I suffering like this? What have I done to deserve such a terrible demolition of my chances at a normal life?

I stare out the window, watching the orange and blinding yellow ripple across the sky as the majestic golden globe rises, wondering just where the stars go when faced with such magnificent light. They just seem to fade into the background as the main attraction emerges, as if they don't matter. As if the sun is more important than the twinkling jewels in the horizon.

There is a rustle beside me on the hard bed, alerting my senses. I turn, my mind still foggy with confusion...

An extremely handsome man lays beside me, bent in slumber. His eyelashes are long and enviable, peace befalling his flawless features. His face is unobstructed by silly facial expressions, in its purest form.

I blink, confused on why exactly this man is here. Do I know him? Why is he in my bed?

And why is his hand wrapped around my waist?

In a flash, different memories begin to fill my thoughts like a flood, everything from the night before rushing back to me. My embarrassing moment of vulnerability. My uncharacteristic kindness. The dastardly werewolf that took advantage of my stupidity.

With all my might, I push his form off the mattress, smiling in satisfaction when he collides with the floor.

"What did I do?" Xavier moans, his sparkling emerald eyes squinting in pain. His blue hair catches the sunlight, making it shimmer like a rainbow. I glance, awestruck, at the pure opulence before me, then quickly look away. I can't be distracted by his deathly charm.

"What did you do to me? Why are you in my bed?!" I roar, causing him to jump up and zoom to my side. He slaps a giant hand over my mouth, his movement so fast that it is blurry.

"What are you thinking?" he scolds in a scathing whisper, "do you want me to get discovered? Do you want to get in even more trouble? Idiot." His eyes are fierce, demanding respect and authority.

I rip his hands away from my mouth, anger like fiery hot sparks pumping through my blood. "Answer my question, wolfboy," I snarl.

He shrugs, obviously amused by my accusation. "Remember last night? When you told me to get on the bed beside you?" his voice is teasing, like chiding a child, "When you fell asleep crying into my arms?"

"Shut up," I almost choke, "I don't remember."

"Yes, you do," he murmurs with a chuckle, "I can see it in your face. You are a terrible liar, you know."

He is right. If I think back, I can still feel the tingle of warmth that had encompassed me, friendship in the air. I was an absolute wreck last night, and ashamed of it.

"But you didn't have to stay in my bed!" I protest angrily, my words ripping through the air towards his ears. He laughs genially, confusing me greatly.

"You should think of me for one freaking minute," he demands, his voice persuasive and angered, "I was the one that endured your stupidity. I was the one that had to lay beside my mate for seven to eight hours, trying to resist you. You know when mates usually bond?"

Bond? What? "When?" I ask.

"The minute they are mated," he points out, "desire is incredibly strong between two mates until bonding occurs. Then, after that, they are somewhat subdued. My pull towards you is so great... it takes every ounce of my strength to hold back." He looks pained as he speaks, not looking at my face.

I wish he would have clarified what he meant by bond. I'm not sure I understand.

I feel a twinge of sorrow as I emit these next words. "Well, I'm not a savage wolf, so you will probably have to wait much longer," I snap, rather bitterly.

"You could have just said thanks," he looks at the ground. "It's not a big deal, anyway. It's only a kiss. I... I just couldn't do it to you. Not in your sleep."

A kiss? On the lips? No way! Never! A blush appears on my cheeks.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks, winking at me. I scowl in indignation.

"I have no idea what was up yesterday," I think with pain towards last night, bafflement in my features, "why I was acting that way."

"Remember?" he prods, "the Shifter?"

In a flash, everything returns as his words trigger remembrance. The ghost from my dream, the pack of players. The fact that I am a... Seer.

And that I can take revenge on the murderers of my parents.

"Oh yeah," I murmur, thinking of the fiery eyes that haunt my mind, encompassing all of my thoughts.

Xavier halts, his form perfectly still. "Someone's coming," he expresses in a frustrated whisper, "because of your big mouth." I open my mouth to protest, but he just shakes his head. There is a blur of motion, the sound of a hand turning the knob, and...

Ms. Penn sends the door flying open, a crash resounding as it collides with the wall. "Why are you disturbing the other orphans' sleep? You selfish, ungrateful girl," she snaps, walking close to my form. She sticks an accusing finger in my face, her claws too close for comfort. "Who were you talking to?" she demands. I shake my head, and she snorts. "I know you were talking to somebody."

She scans the window, peering in hope that she will find some sort of incriminating evidence. "I know I heard you say something," she murmurs menacingly, "just where is the thing?" Ms. Penn turns, and the answer to her question wags his tail. She gasps, noting the size of the wolf, the creamy, flawless fur he is blessed with.

But even she is not distracted for long. Holding her nose, she begins to cough erratically, trying to squeeze words through her fit. "Why... do... you h-have.... a WOLF in the bedroom?! I'm... a-allergic to... dogs!" she chokes.

"He jumped through the window!" I protest, but it is no use.

"You should have the window shut at all times!" The coughs growing worse, Ms. Penn grabs me by the arm, tugging me down the stairs. Xavier, in his beautiful wolf form, follows me with his head bent towards the floor. You better feel guilty, wolfboy, I think angrily, it's all your fault.

I have always known, ever since the very first day I came here, that dogs are not allowed. It was the first phrase uttered when I arrived at the misshapen orphanage. I can still remember Ms. Penn all those years ago, with light brown hair instead of a faded gray, telling me I can't bring my gorgeous little German Shepard puppy into the orphanage. He was my best friend, with silky smooth chocolate fur, who I had named Spotty because of the huge splotch of caramel color around his eyes. Because of Ms. Penn, Spotty ran away from the orphanage on that fated day, never to return. And what hurt most was the fact that nobody with me cared enough to chase after him, Ms. Penn even holding me so I couldn't go myself.

Ms. Penn, gripping my already injured hand tightly, drags me outside, Xavier following behind. "I don't want to see your face," she roars, "until after school. No early cleaning for you." She shoves me, and I fall towards the ground, the air blurring around my form. I land on a furry back, and slightly smile. Sometimes it is nice to have a personal savior.

She gapes at the scene, the majesty of the wolf under me. "What about breakfast?" I ask quietly, trying to stand back up, but failing. My ankle hurts terribly, caused by Ms. Penn's violent push.

"Get that... wonder dog to get you some," she huffs, glaring at the source of her coughs. Xavier stares at her, unblinking, and utters a low, terrorizing growl that rips through the air and shakes her to the bone. She shivers, although the temperature is around eighty degrees, and retreats with a scowl back into her haven.

"Well, looks like I got kicked out," I point out jokingly, rubbing my foot with my dreadfully sore hand. Xavier, mute in his wolf form, nudges me gently. "I can't go," I complain, "my foot hurts too much."

He begins to morph, but I stop him by touching his ear. "Not here! Look at all the open windows! Anyone could see you!" He stops, thinking, then lays down on the untamed grass and whines.

"What do you want me to do?" I question, but no answer comes. Using my hands and knees, I crawl to him, hoping for some sort of indication that would lead me to realization. All he does in response is nod, even this movement regal.

Understanding finally dawns on me, and I pile upon his shaggy back, wincing in pain as my ankle brushes across his leg. He is so big that my petite self fits upon him perfectly, like a horse and its rider. However, what makes this so strange is the connection. When I lower my head to his back, my feet hanging off his heavily muscled berth, I can hear his heart thumping. I have to think to myself; this is Xavier's heart. Frozen in time, this is one of the few that will beat forever. Somehow, at this moment, I feel an unfamiliar tug at my heart, a sizzle of energy. Is this the desire Xavier was talking about earlier? For I am experiencing it now; fighting desperately against this alien emotion pounding through me.

I tighten my grip around his neck, and then carefully say, "okay." He looks up, at the beautiful blue sky, and starts to run into the deep, dark forest. "Not so fast!" I caution as his legs begin to blur, and he slows slightly. The horizon above us vanishes as trees as tall as the clouds start to multiply, and we are soon surrounded by them. I shudder a little as flashes of my memory surfaces; the hazy white figure with those gruesome, absolutely appalling eyes, charging at me in a scene much like this one...

We come to gentle halt, and I accidentally tumble off him, falling on my side. His body melts into itself, morphing into the handsome man that somehow manages to encompass almost all of my thoughts. With one masculine hand, he reaches to me and offers one hand. I take it and pull myself upright, all my weight resting on my uninjured foot. "You can't," he says suddenly, sweeping me into his arms. I am a little confused on what I can't do, but I decide not to ask for any clarifications. "Stay here," he commands as he sits me down on a rock, "I will get a first aid kit and some... clothes." He looks at my shirt pointedly, scratched and dirty. A little rip is on the sleeve, overall making my appearance rather disheveled. Yeah. I need some clothes before school starts, or everyone will figure out that I'm practically a hobo.

"Okay," I murmur carelessly, although in truth worried about being alone in such a huge forest. Xavier smiles, sensing my discomfort.

"As long as you have that ring, you are pretty much safe," he nods towards the sparkling emerald on my finger.

"What does it do?" It is so conspicuous that I had forgotten about it since yesterday, but now that I look at it, it does look awfully like an engagement ring...

"It's like a shield," he explains, "when you are wearing an emerald, Shifters can't possess you. I don't need one because I am a werewolf."

I say nothing in response. He offers me one more lingering glance, and then he vanishes into the forest among the towering trees, leaving me totally alone.

After waiting for a few dwindling seconds, I laugh. It is the first time in almost three days that I have been totally alone. And the thing is, a day ago, I was begging and begging for a moment like this.

But now, true loneliness enters my chest. I suppose I have become accustomed to his stalker-like attitude, his quirky laugh, his exceedingly alluring looks. Although I hate to say it, Xavier has grown on me.

Looking around at my surroundings, I smile as I spot a stream a couple meters away. The water almost crystal clear and not surrounded by pointy rocks, it will suit my purposes well. With a determined look, I grab a long, thick stick and use it as a cane. The beautiful oasis of slightly heated miracle water winks at me as I reach it, stumbling with my stick. Scanning the area once more, I become satisfied that no one is watching. Not that anyone would want to watch anyways.

I slip off my rugged jeans that are too big for me, pulling my shirt over my head. I place it in a small pile near the stream, and enter the water, my soul immediately calmed by the warmth enveloping me. It relaxes my muscles, my feet soothed.

I put my head underneath the surface, trying to disengage some of the dirt and leaves from my unruly hair. Grabbing a tuft of it in my cleansed hands, I examine it, trying to remember what my mother's hair felt like. But the remembrance slips from my grasp, all feeling leaving my fingers.

The only thing that I am certain of, the only firm memory in my mind, is that my mother was an absolutely wonderful singer. Every night, she would sing me a short and sweet lullaby, the name unknown to me. If I concentrate deeply, I can still hear her voice, the sweetness in each of the notes she uttered.

The water swirls around me and I close my eyes, crossing my arms on the ground and putting my head upon it. I let my body dangle in the slow current of the river, soaking in its warmth. The showers at the orphanage are nothing compared to this. How does such a simple stream do this to me? I am so calm that I doubt even a luxury spa can relax me any more. My thoughts begin to grow hazy, my mind drunken with pleasure.

The voice of my dead mother sings to me over and over, murmuring the same intoxicating words that would get me to sleep every time. Opening my mouth, I start to sing along with her, not quite thinking straight. My volume grows as confidence brews. I try desperately to capture the beauty's gorgeous tone, the melody floating between her lips. What is this feeling, ripping through me like a tidal wave? It is like Mother's spirit is entering me, giving me the voice that mirrors hers.

"Very pretty," a low, silky smooth voice emits, almost a song in itself. It awakens me from my daze, and the mysterious, beautiful utterance vanishes from my throat, as if it truly doesn't belong there.

I gasp and look in alarm towards the manly figure that I know all too well. "Xavier!" I exclaim in surprise, "I didn't know that you were going to be this quick!" Red blossoms onto my cheeks, embarrassment flooding through me.

He winks at me, standing on the ground over the stream. "It's called super-speed, sweetheart," he says sultrily, spiking that terrible desire in my heart.

"Oh," I cough a little, wondering just how I'm going to get out of this situation.

"I brought you a hairbrush, some clothes, food, and your backpack."

"How did you get my backpack?" I question confusedly.

"I snuck through the window and got it. Ms. Penn unfortunately left the window open when she forced you into exile, letting the same tragedy happen all over again," he snorts.

"Where are the clothes?" I demand, and he pulls them from his jacket.

"What do you want me to do with them?"

"Put them down, go away, and turn around," I carefully instruct, my tone firm.

"But why do I have to do all that?" he complains as he places the clothes next to my old ones. "That's so-" he cuts off as he spies my old clothes, his eyes widening. Realization finally dawns on him, and he awkwardly straightens, trying not to glance at me. "Sorry," he apologizes, struck a little. For some reason, it surprises me that he is so affected, blushing a deep, tomato red. I always thought that I could never make a boy be like that.

As he zooms away, I begin to laugh. "It would be nice if you would just get it sometimes, Xavier. Work on that," I murmur as I slip out of the water, using my old shirt to dry off. Interestedly I pick up the clothes he brought, wondering what he decided to get me. The shirt is a casual top, with a little bit of lace, and is sleeveless.

The jeans are nice also, a little bit more fitted than my other ones. He brought some shoes too, golden ones that match the top. With pleasure, I sigh as the unfamiliar clothes brush against my skin. "You can come now!" I call, and Xavier zooms to my side. His blue hair is tousled, some strands sticking straight up. His face is a little exerted, but that is to be expected from someone that just ran several miles.

"Here is your food!" he exclaims, whipping out a brown paper bag. My stomach suddenly growling, I take it it out of his hands, reveling in the warmth radiating from it.

"This looks good," I emit as I survey the contents; a biscuit, bacon, and eggs. Xavier leads me over to a big rock, and I sit on it, my ankle hurting when I place weight on it.

"You didn't walk on your right foot, did you?" he probes suspiciously.

"I used a cane."

"Don't you think you are a little young for that?" he laughs, merry pearls of joy ripping through the thick air.

"Nah," I shake my head as he sits on the ground, taking my foot in his hand. He takes the first-aid kit beside him, drawing out a long bandage to wrap around the injury.

"Why did you get in the stream?" he asks as he works.

"Do I have to have a reason?" I snap jokingly, wondering why Xavier always manages to put me in a good mood.

"You know, I would love it if you actually obeyed me sometimes."

"Where's the fun in that?" I ask honestly, my voice jesting.

He peers at me, his eyes of laughter. "You would get rewarded... with a kiss," he smiles, and for a minute, that seems like a pretty sweet prize.

"Ew!" I yell, though my blush betrays the truth, "why would I want a kiss from you?"

"I'm the hottest guy at your school," he smirks, "why wouldn't you want a kiss from me?"

"Who said you were the hottest guy at our school?" I accuse.

"Just about everybody... duh." He struggles over the modern term, making me laugh.

"Well, why would I want a kiss from an old werewolf then?"

"Because I'm HOT!" he answers, "and I'm not old! We went over this." He pauses, almost caressing my foot as he puts the final touches on my bandage. "Hot isn't good enough," he winks, "I should be sizzling hot. Don't you think, Mona?"

"Arrogant, much?" I ask, not really listening to him anymore.

"Don't sidestep the question," he orders, grabbing my hand, "all that matters is you, Mona. Tell me honestly." I can tell he is joking, but his words still strike a chord in my chest. We are suspended in time, the fated words forming in my lips, yet my mouth too cowardly to say them. I stare into his eyes, sparkling with cheer, examining his altogether beautiful features.

I pull away quickly, looking away. "What time is it?" I ask, trying to avoid his penetrating gaze.

Xavier looks to his wristwatch. "7:40," he says, and I sigh in relief. For a minute, I thought we had lost track of time. "I can get us there in two minutes," he says plainly, "with a shortcut."

"Cool," I murmur, then dig in with my fork into my meal. There is a slight rumble of satisfaction as the delicious eggs grace my stomach. I linger over each bite, delighting myself in the wonderful taste. Xavier sits, watching me with a strange expression. "What are you looking at?" I murmur, my voice irritated.

He chuckles. "Nothing," he murmurs, "it is just that I have never seen anyone so happy when eating food."

"Well, I don't get much of it," I mutter under my breath, my words clearly heard by the stunning man before me. He snorts in agreement.

"Obviously she wants you to starve to death."

I don't reply, consumed with swallowing the last bite of biscuit. Now I move on the bacon, my favorite part. It is slightly crunchy, with just the right amount of salt.

Wonderful.

"I never knew you could sing, and so prettily," he says finally, after a long period of silence, "you don't seem like the type."

"Is that supposed to be an insult?" I question, offended by his remark. I swallow the last of the bacon, smiling in contentment.

"Only you," he sighs, "would take that as an insult. I suppose I should get used to it."

"Of course," I grin, my crooked teeth winking in the gasps of sunlight bursting through the treetops, "it's not like I am going to change."

"Sure. Whatever," he says, standing up and brushing the leaves off his pants. "We got to go. It's 7:55 and school starts at... 8:00, right?" I nod in response. He beckons, and I walk to him, my heart thumping furiously in my chest. He grabs me, his hands wrapped around my waist and knees, and begins to run through the wild underbrush, path unknown.

I wonder how he can go so fast. Everything around me is a blur, and it is impossible to see where we are going. He probably has "super vision" too... werewolves just get it all, don't they?

By the time we reach the school, I have a barrage of questions to ask him. "Where are the other supernatural creatures?" I probe, my voice questioning.

He grins. "A Twilight fan?"

"No. But I've heard about dragons and fairies and stuff like that," I truthfully say. His smile widens.

"We aren’t one hundred percent sure, but we haven’t seen any other supernatural creatures. So far it is just us, and the Shifters. Well, there are some cases of werewolves where they morph into a dog instead of a wolf. Crossbreeds," he shakes his head.

"Why wolves?"

"I truthfully have no idea. Maybe the fact that we are dogs signifies that we are servants to the humans. Or maybe it's because dogs are just that awesome," he smirks as he drags me into the bone-crushing throng of students.

"I like that first one," I laugh in return, both of us quickly enveloped by rushing classmates, Xavier nearly buried with his fans. He just seems to attract attention wherever he goes.

Going to my locker, I turn the dial to get my stuff, and after thinking a little, open Xavier's too so his fans won't block my locker in attempts to flirt with him. I search for him, for that blue mop of perfectly tamed hair that I would recognize anywhere...

There he is!

I troop to his group, trying to wedge my way through the planets in an effort to reach the blinding sun. Xavier spots me, and smiles. "Move," he demands and the girls part like the Red Sea, leaving a regal pathway to the man himself. "You liked it better when I didn't go to your school, right?" he questions knowingly. I laugh, as if that was the silliest question I have ever heard, smiling up at him. I admit... I might have done that to tick the girls off.

"I didn't really know you before you decided to come to my school," I whisper, leaning in close to his ear so they can't hear the snap in my remark. All they probably notice, though, is how close I am to him, how I managed to break past the barrier he has created around himself.

I might have done that to tick the girls off too.

Xavier seems pleased at my slightly flirtatious manner, responding so well that it makes the girls cringe. They seethe as our conversation continues all the way to the classroom, no one else managing to get a word in. "Thanks for saving me," he whispers as we reach Social Studies and the crowd disperses. We stand in the doorway, I secretly immersing myself in his company, in the radiation of light that always oozed from a popular person.

But our comfortable silence is not maintained for long, a familiar blond appearing by Xavier's side. "Hey Xavier," Sidney greets, her pretty blue eyes like an ocean. She waits for a response but there is nothing. As usual, she completely ignores me. However, that is to be expected, especially since she is a popular girl. I'm like z-list. Or no-list.

"Hey," he finally emits after a long, strained silence. Sidney is absolutely determined to make him talk, and I think he knows that. Her cute oval face breaks into a smile at his word.

"So," she begins, her bright red lips contrasting greatly against her lightly tanned skin, "I'm having a party on Monday. Be there." Her voice has sort of the same effect as his when he is acting as the leader, her authority clearly realized. Avoiding the answer Xavier will definitely give, she glides away to Ian, her poor little boyfriend.

"Wow," I murmur, "that was scary."

"Yes it was," he agrees.

We enter the classroom completely, and begin to talk randomly about the teacher. Xavier is one of those good guys; one of the ones that can't find anything bad to say about anybody. However, even he was able to cough up a few negative comments. I burst into laughter when he finally determines that he really is a bad teacher after almost five minutes of contemplation.

The bell rings and we race to our seats, the teacher just now arriving. I look to Sidney, spotting her death glare once more as Xavier asks me what the homework was. I shake my head. My homework was completely forgotten.

Another zero, I suppose.

However, Xavier seems to have a different idea. He grabs the textbook we were studying, both of our worksheets, and places them side by side. He looks carefully to see that no one is around, and then his hand moves so fast it blurs. I roll my eyes as he gives me my completed sheet; with similar handwriting to my own.

"Wow," I whisper, "how did you get my handwriting so well?"

He leans in close to my year, his voice piercing me. “I’m a genius. You can thank me later." He winks.

He grows silent as the teacher shoots us a deathly look, full of menace and command. He kind of reminds me of Ms. Penn but a slightly milder version.

The rest of the period zooms by until he gives us free study time. In other words, I-don't-want-to-teach-right-now-so-I-am-going-to-leave-you-brats-alone time. He plops on his Mac, probably surfing an online dating site. By the looks of him, he probably has to put a fake picture on his profile.

As soon as it starts and the teacher is officially out of the way, Sidney stands up with a few of her loyal cronies. She trumps our way, the rest of the class kind of circulating around the fight that is just waiting to happen.

Strangely, she passes Xavier and goes straight to me. Smiling, the queen bee addresses me for the very first time. "Mona," her sparkling eyes flutter, "right?" I nod, just a little dazzled by her close proximity, the fact that she is talking to me. She leans in close to my ear, and I subconsciously allow her to do so, still in a little daze. She gives off the same attention grabbing aura as Xavier does, and that sort of intimidates me.

Then she really speaks. "Get away from Xavier," she demands under dreadfully fake laughter, "you're an eyesore."

"What if I don't want to?" I ask her, my words clear for the world to hear. Her eyes widen slightly as the whole class begins to gravitate towards our conversation. It is sure to make headline news; Queen Bee Threatens Small Fry.

"I'm not asking you. I'm telling you." She also forgets the fake laughter and peppy smiles, rising to meet my challenge. "Just stay away."

"No," I smile, chuckling inwardly at the fact that I'm trying to stay away. But obviously Xavier is the one that won't leave me alone. They never accuse the boy, don't they...

"I will crush you, ugly girl," she drops the volume, saying it softly. And of course it reaches the ears of the one man she was trying to keep it from.

"Ugly?" he asks, astounded. I look at him in fright, knowing he's going to say something stupid next. "But she's beautiful!" he says loudly, causing me to bend my head in embarrassment. There is a shocked silence, and then the room is consumed with laughter. A blush appears on my cheeks, anger in my blood.

"What did she do to you?" a random guy calls out, "cast a spell on you?"

I was wrong. The headlines will definitely be; Ugly Girl Bewitches Woman's Most Wanted. And you know what comes next... the burning at the stake. Probably Sidney will be the first one to light the match.

Sidney grows tomato red with anger. "She's beautiful? Then what am I?" she asks him frenziedly.

"You're..." he trails off, thinking deeply, leaving Sidney with her mouth agape. The bell rings in the confusion, and Xavier whisks me out of the classroom, out of the prying eyes of the people that just witnessed the scene.

"Why did you say that, Xavier? Now Sidney is going to kill me!" The blush still lingers on my cheeks, so bright that it looks like red paint is splashed on each of them.

"I did something stupid, didn't I?"

"Yeah, well, it is a little too late to realize that now, don't you think?" I ask, bite in every word. He looks to the ground, and then brightens considerably.

"I have a surprise for you after school, if that makes you feel better," he grins, making me yawn in return.

"In case you want to know, that doesn't make me feel better," I say sarcastically, and he frowns.

"What's with that sort of attitude?" he gazes at me, "I already said I'm sorry. If you want, I'll give you some flowers or something."

"NO, not flowers," I shake my head, imagining Xavier walking in the lunchroom with a bouquet the size of my whole body. "You know what you can give me? Lunch money."

"Nah," he waves that idea off, spiking anger in my chest.

"You want to get me flowers, but you don't care if I don't eat?"

"Just trust me, okay?" he asks, slightly irritated, and I shut up.

The whole day after this passes quickly, though full of taunts and rumors. According to the last one I overheard, I am a witch who got jealous of Sidney (this part made me grin. Sidney always implements herself into everything) so I cast a spell on Xavier so he would fall in love with me instead. And this was all said with complete trust and assurance. They're probably stupid enough to truly believe it. I guess, though, that is one of the only reasons for our "situation" that they can think of. They couldn't imagine him actually liking me for real.

Which, in a way, is a little true. The reason he likes me is only because we are mates, after all.

After another surprisingly exciting day of school comes to a close, Xavier almost immediately sweeps me into his arms. "Not with people watching!" I swat at him, and he ashamedly puts his arms down. However, his excitement cannot be quelled, and he grabs my arm. With astounding force that he really doesn't need to use, he pulls me into the forest surrounding the school, near the same place where I almost fell to my death. "Where are we going?" I ask as he once again cradles me in his strong arms. I inhale his scent, reveling in the warmth he offers.

"The orphanage," he assures me. I sigh in relief. With Xavier's super speed, I'll gain a few extra minutes of cleaning time while the orphans are walking home. Maybe this was his surprise. Each minute counts, especially when you are trying to clean the whole building by nightfall.

We finally reach the ugly orphanage, and he sets me down softly on a big rock. I stand up quickly, rushing to the door. "You can go now, Xavier!" I call, "you don't want to be seen..."

But he only laughs, as if that is the funniest thing he has ever heard. I start to think that maybe I'm missing something.

I rush up the steps to the door, hesitate before the knob, and knock. I don't want to annoy Ms. Penn any more than I already have.

The door slowly opens, and an enticing man with white, shimmery hair appears before me. “Jake?” I ask, confused, “Why are you here?”

Ms. Penn comes into view, smiling brightly. “I can’t believe it!” she nearly moans in ecstasy, “you’re really leaving... I’m so happy I have to celebrate!” She disappears, probably off to bake a cake or something.

Xavier brushes past me to stand by Jake’s side. “We’re going to kidnap you,” Jake informs me with a smile.

“Who said I wanted to live in the same house as him?” I stare pointedly at the annoying man before me.

“Did we ask for your opinion?” he laughs genially, and they both charge towards me.

Fear swallows me whole, the life sucked out of my face as I wait for them to come. What a surprise...

[sexy_parul]

A Life Without Steak
"This is your room," Xavier leads me towards a narrow door, and opens it for me. I look in wonder at the curved ceilings, the gorgeous bed that is three times as big as me...

I narrow my eyes at him, suspicious. "You're not sleeping in this room too, are you?"

Yi happens to hear my statement as he walks by, and grins. "No," he answers for the blushing blue-haired idiot beside me, "but it is right next door." I turn on him, smiling at the redness now spreading through his features.

"There is one other room available," Xavier plainly explains, "but it's connected to Wes's room."

"Might not be the best idea to take that other room," Yi laughs, “you might wake up to find your innocence stolen.”

“Yi!” Xavier elbows him, and Yi starts to laugh even harder. Once I examine him, I realize that he really looks the youngest out of all of them. I wonder if that has anything to do with his underdeveloped Talent.

“Hmmm..." I trail off, wandering into the splendor that I can only call heaven. I pretend to be discontent, though actually reveling in happiness. It is all so beautiful... ten times better than my previous room. Guilt floods through at the thought that I owe something to that stalker werewolf.

"I know you like it," a temptingly low voice murmurs into my ear. I jump to realize that Jake is by my side.

"Who says I do?" I haughtily reply, looking away from Jake's entrancing form. He smirks, voice teasing.

"Xavier's not here anymore. You don't need to act like a spoiled brat," he nods towards the empty doorway. I gaze at Jake's all-knowing sneer with bitter contempt, then melt onto the silky comforter of my bed. Closing my eyes, I give my mind a chance to let this all sink in... for my head might explode if any more changes occur.

"Why do you act this way towards Xavier?" he questions, sitting beside me. My eyes flutter open, and I let my gaze drink in Jake's head of sparkling white hair, his bright emerald eyes.

"He just annoys me," I shrug slightly, leaning against the headrest. Jake grins, his eyes alight.

"Well, you're stuck with him now," he laughs, "since we kidnapped you."

I groan with irritation. "I thought it was called adoption."

"You know that's not true; though I am old enough to be your grandfather many times over," he points out, his face of mischief, "you really are our prisoner."

"What?"

"Think about it," he smiles, "you are surrounded by five incredibly handsome werewolves that could overpower you in under a second, and they all want you to stay in this house. To top it off, you're my new daughter."

I frown, my uneasiness blooming under the soft white lights. "You idiot," I laugh, turning on my side, away from the monster, "Xavier wouldn't make me do anything I didn't want to do."

"But what about the rest of us?" Jake's eyes suddenly turn eerie, his voice jesting. "We don't exactly have the same policy."

I don't even shudder as he leans towards me on the plush bed, glaring at me with his now ferocious green eyes. "Xavier will protect me," I say confidently, trying once again to turn away, but I am caught by his strong arm. "Leave me alone," I command, my heart finally starting to beat faster with nervousness at our physical contact.

"You have complete faith in Xavier, even though you don't love him?" The searing question rips through my defenses, introducing more questions that I am not truly prepared to answer. I shove them to the edge of my mind, forcing the matter at hand to surface.

"He has never let me down before," I shrug, leading Jake to shake his head.

"You just won't accept it," he says, his tone matter-of-factly.

"Go away, Daddy." I twist so I am lying face down on the comfy bed, dwelling in my thoughts. The word Daddy, even though I say it in jest, feels strange on my tongue, almost retreating back inside my mouth. I have not said that word in many, many years.

There are footsteps, then complete and utter silence. I am alone.

Comfort enters me, twisting its way into my heart as I lay on the plush comforter, soothing my soul. It is true that I am a prisoner here, but I can't help but realize that I am now basking in luxury that far out-shadows my situation at the orphanage. A 3D TV stretches against the left wall, one of the biggest I've ever seen, right beside a stack of movies that reaches four feet tall. The bed I'm in is king-size, big enough to swallow about five of me in its gigantic berth. Everything is absolutely luxurious, drenching my eyes with pure splendor. Where do they get all this money?

I crawl further into the bed's center, pulling back the comforter. I slip under it with ease, gaping at the huge size of the mattress. It is pure heaven, almost like the water from this morning, easing my pain.

Looking to the side, I spot a remote that is nearly as big as my arm. With delight, I grab the board of buttons, examining the temperature controls, the wonder knobs that induce prime massages.

This really isn't necessary.

Maybe they are using all this to bribe me into submission. I shouldn't be touching this pleasurable remote, or delving through the flurry of sheets into the colossal mattress.

Closing my eyes, I try not to focus on the ripples of opulence surrounding me. I imagine myself as a fierce warrior battling a bunch of familiar werewolves for freedom. Even the thought brings a smile to my face.

But I have to be honest to myself; is that fantasy really possible? Could I battle those gifted werewolves and have even the smallest chance of winning? Could I take on even one?

I give up on all hope for resistance, and sink into the cushiony depths of heaven.



***



My eyes fly open as screams and yells erupt elsewhere. Slipping to my feet, I pad to the doorway, trying to find the source of all the noise. However, another thought comes to my attention before I step outside my new room.

The ground scratches my toes as I retreat in search of some clothing not rumpled by sleep. I have no suitcase, my old clothes too pitiful for the guys to kidnap along with me. Ruffling in the drawers, I find nothing except dust and old screws. "Where are they?" I mutter to myself after pulling the final drawer open, "those all-knowing werewolves had to put some shirts somewhere."

A gust of horrific wind blasts the window open, the glass pounding against the stone walls. Leaves swept by the gales soon follow, flying into my room by the dozen. Racing to the problem, I swing it shut, the sound resounding within the mansion.

I gaze into the horizon through the transparent surface, marveling at the turmoil before my eyes. Wind swirls around, framed by a barrage of dark gray clouds that hang in the baby blue skies. Leaves fall like confetti towards the dark, muddy ground, energy in their movements. If I squint, the faint outlines of heavy rainfall are visible in the far distance, heading our way with incredible speed.

Looks like I'm staying in tonight.

Sighing, I bend to pick up the new additions to an almost-flawless room. Many of them are scattered among the drawers, one dwindling on the conspicuous handle of a thin, white door. Once I think about it, that does look a lot like a closet.

That's it! With feelings of triumph racing through my blood, I race to the door, yanking it open with a ferocious amount of raw energy. What comes to meet the eyes, though, is much more wonderful than a closet.

A spectacular bathroom lies before me, with granite countertops and top-notch accessories. A huge shower is to my right, big enough for maybe two or three people instead of just one. A big hair dryer and straightener is on the counter, along with nail polish, toothpaste, and even a brand new hairbrush. I almost scream, consumed with delight at the amazing amenities now at my disposal. At the orphanage, I had to share a shower with all the other girls, and I was always forced to be last shift. The knob was always stuck on cold, probably because Ms. Penn was so cheap. If I think hard, I can almost feel the icy river flood down my back as it had only a couple of days ago. It now seems so far away, as if it was a couple of weeks ago instead.

I walk over to another door, flinging it open to reveal the treasure I am seeking. A hoard of clothes lined from wall to wall jumps out at me, a true vision of incredulity lingering before my eyes. So many clothes...

With joy, I grab a random pair of jeans and a t-shirt, shaking off my earlier clothes as if I am shedding my skin. Racing into the hallway, I pound off in search of the mischievous wolves that are producing quite a racket.

The hallway ends, morphing into a giant room covered in bean bags. A giant, blank wall stretches over twenty feet horizontally, and is about the same height. From the high ceiling, a projector perches in its nest at the back of the room, shooting high definition images through the air to the blank space.

To the side, there is a marvelous food station, vending machines stocked with every sort of candy and drink imaginable. A popcorn station is right next to that, and a platter of delectable hotdogs.

But the star of the show is the plate of juicy steak, surrounded by a ring of eternal glory.

My mouth waters at the sight. How is this amount of food even possible?

"Hey Mona," a similarly mouthwatering voice speaks near my ear, causing me to jump.

"Xavier?"

"Um, yeah, that's me," he laughs, emerging into my line of vision. His blue hair shines like a rainbow in the dim lights, the eyes shining on their own. With a body just as beautiful, he seems almost ethereal, too good to be true.

The rest of the deathly attractive pack turns their heads at our conversation. Instantly Wes jumps to his feet, racing to my side. "We were waiting for you," he smiles enchantingly. His contagious attitude spreads like a virus to my emotions, causing a grin to bubble to the surface. However, I quickly quell it after a few moments of existence, noting the hurt look on Xavier's face. I feel a twinge of pity for the man.

Wes grabs my arm with sudden force, wrenching me from Xavier's side. "I will be escorting her to the steak," he announces, shooting a jesting look towards Xavier. He nearly roars in response, zooming to my side faster than a lightning bolt.

"No. I will," Xavier growls, grabbing my other arm.

"She likes me better," Wes smirks, holding me close. I can smell his minty breath, his sweet cologne that intoxicates me with every breath.

"Well, she's my mate!" Xavier points out, pulling me strongly. My bones are about to break, suspended between them like a twig surrounded by tree trunks.

In a sudden burst of energy, I rip away from them both, edging towards the table of delicacies. "I will be escorting myself, thank you," I state firmly, then turn away. An assortment of light chuckles and baritone laughs follow, the other werewolves probably finding amusement in my bitter words.

I reach the yummy steak, taking the whole plate into my arms. Plopping down on a stray beanbag, I start to dig in, chewing to my heart’s content. It is very similar to the awe-inspiring steak I had the day before, and absolutely scrumptious.

"This exquisite steak can only be found at our mansion," Wes grins, materializing by my side, "the meat is produced by yours truly." He bows, and I give him a round of applause.

"This really is delicious," I say excitedly, to Xavier's dismay.

"We all prepare it!" he growls, "the cows aren't just yours!" With a hilarious expression, he punches Wes in the arm.

"What gives it its spectacular taste is that our cows are like no other," Yi smiles, rising from his perch on a particularly big bean bag. Walking over to me, he leads me to one of the huge windows, beckoning for me to look out. Scattered on the emerald green grass are pure black animals that are truly...

"Monstrous," I conclude my thought out loud, staring into the sea of absolutely giant bulls. Horns protrude from their heads like sharpened spears, their glossy fur unmarred. Finally, their eyes are the same color as the grass, green as could be.

"They certainly are, aren't they?" Yi murmurs, watching my utter fascination with pleasure. "I, actually, like to think of them as a fantastic crossbreed between a buffalo and a bull. Oh, and a twinge of werewolf."

"What?!" I exclaim, "So it isn't pure steak?"

"Don't you think it tastes better than steak?" he questions carelessly, "It is a concoction Wes came up with around fifty years ago. We all had a liking for steak, Wes in particular, so he made it his goal to produce the finest breed the world has ever known. He found a beautiful buffalo and a prime cow, and went on a trip to find many more animals. However, when he reached home, he discovered that the buffalo and the cow had a few calves, some of which were boys, and one a girl. They were very delicious, and so he allowed them to multiply. His goal was to get two perfect bull/buffalos. However, too many of them were handicapped or spotted. Finally, after a long period of agonizing, he offered them a very small bit of werewolf blood, which strengthened them and colored their eyes. And so, that is how our amazing bull-buffalos and awesome steak came into existence."

"Werewolf... blood?" I ask, choking a little on my steak.

"Not much... barely more than a drop," he quickly reassures me, patting my back. His tanned skin distracts me, its color like light bronze.

"How can YOU eat that?"

"We don't," he shrugs, "when Wes added the werewolf blood, we all couldn't eat it. That would be like... cannibalism."

"Then why did Xavier eat it that one day in the lunchroom?" I walk over to him, peering into Xavier's emerald eyes.

"That was deer meat," he laughs genially. I just peer at them, shock registering on my features.

"You guys can't eat steak anymore?" I ask. A life without steak... pure torture.

Wes waves his hand at me nonchalantly, "I ate so much then that I got sick of it. Don't worry about me."

I bite it once more, savoring each little bit of delicious steak. I walk back over to the bean bags, plopping into one. "What are you all watching?" I question curiously. The screen is frozen with the picture of a girl right next to a boy with long hair.

Jake smiles, "we heard you were a Twilight fan."

I shoot a glare at the criminal as he lowers his gaze.

"We skipped to the part where Bella meets the handsome werewolf. We figured that that was the most important part anyways," Jake continues. There is a beep as he presses a button, and the still picture comes to life. I examine them both, the werewolf as he looks at Bella with obvious love in his eyes, similar to someone I happen to know...

"Is Bella his mate?" I ask loudly, causing Yi to put a finger to his lips. Wes is already consumed with the film, probably imagining himself as the werewolf. Honestly, I think Wes would be better suited for a role like that.

"No," Xavier chuckles, "she's not. But he loves her."

I look at Xavier's profile, so enveloped in compassion as he views the rays of unrequited love emanating from the desperate man. His eyes glisten, hair falling into them. He is so statuesque and perfect; reminding me of those roman paintings I have studied in school. Like one of the Greek gods.

"Did you... love somebody before you became mated to me?" I ask, looking at the miniscule droplets of sadness bubbling on the corner of his eyes. He turns, eyes fierce.

"I loved nobody. It was endless torture," he answers, "girl after girl... but never a connection."

"It's stupid to love someone who isn't your mate," Jake interludes, "for you can only break that person's heart."

Silence reigns as another character enters the scene. A cold, darkly handsome man appears by Bella's side, conversing with her in low tones.

"Is that Edward?"

"True characteristics of a Twilight fan," Jake laughs, "and yes, he is."

I stare at his cold face, his measuring eyes. No matter how handsome, he still sparks fear and anger in my stomach. Xavier smiles.

"Vampires aren't real," he comforts me, rubbing a hand on my back. It is soothing, the way his fingers move in slow circles on my skin, somehow knowing precisely where I need it.

"But why are werewolves real then?" I probe agitatedly, "why they are real and not the vampires?"

The movie pauses once more, silence creeping like fog onto the inhabitants. A figure appears in the doorway, assessing us coldly.

"We are created for a purpose, and doomed to eternity until our task is completed," Ray says, his voice rippling through the air towards my ears. "It is in the legend."

"Legend?" I question.

"It is more like a prophecy," he amends quickly.

"What does it say?"

"Well," Jake cuts in, his voice like a knife, "it talks about a pack, led by a Spier that has the abilities of both a werewolf and a Spier. With these combined supernatural powers, the Spier has a super talent that will enable his or her pack to defeat the wolf with the red eyes and destroy the red stone. After that, the Shifters will cease, and so will the werewolves. Basically, werewolves exist to battle the Shifters."

"We have a copy of it in the library. I recommend you read it for a better understanding than what Jake just gave you," Ray says coldly, then turns away and walks down the hallway.

"Wow," Yi jokes, "looks like someone's grumpy."

"Well, my explanation was kind of horrible," Jake says.

"Don't worry, I'll read it," I reassure him quickly. What Jake said makes almost no sense. The wolf with the red eyes? The red stone? My curiosity is spiked now, and there is no turning back...

Xavier perks up his nose suddenly, alarm in his next words. "Guys, there's another attack," he shoots up, horror in his eyes. The other occupants sniff, my heart rate escalating in fright.

"I want to go!" I yell as they start to rush towards the exit, running after them. I want to have an adventure, not to be left alone in this giant mansion like a little kid.

"It's too dangerous," Xavier calls.

"If you don't let me go," I snarl, "then you will regret it."

There is complete silence as they stare at my face, devoid of all emotions except fury.

"I think she's serious," Yi examines me.

"Yeah."

"Take her!"

Ray races to join the pack, alert in his movements. "What are we waiting for?" he furiously asks, "we have to go!"

"Come on," Xavier sighs, morphing into a wolf before my eyes. I climb onto his back, my breathing close to his ear. My heart pounds erratically, my eyes shut tightly as he starts to run through the wild underbrush towards our unknown destination.

I feel myself drowning in the comfort Xavier offers, especially his soft, glistening fur that rivals any luxurious rug in the world. It is a better experience than my bed, for this fur is alive, the legs pounding beneath me as he carts me towards the scene of this mysterious attack. It strangely feels like I am touching his bare skin, the fur a creamy color that matches it perfectly. Heat radiates from his skin to my hands, causing a blush to strangely rise to my cheeks.

The scenery around us changes from trees and dirt into manicured lawns and mediocre houses. My heart pounds even harder as people emerge, reasons unknown. I can barely get a glimpse at each of them before the next house comes into view, our speed increasing. Can they see us? Why are we traveling into the heart of society, where discovery is possible?

We zoom down roads into the big city a couple of miles away from the orphanage. Buildings climb towards the clouds, cars multiplying beside us. However, we seem to avoid them, maneuvering around each vehicle at a blinding speed. I watch in amazement as all five werewolves delve into the sea of skyscrapers, flashy cars, streetlights, and everything in between. In other words, the city.

Everything goes darker as activity dies, the ghetto area inching closer to us by the second. People smoking and drinking appear more often, many hanging out with lots of friends that are doing the same. The prosperous city facade rips away as we reach the outskirts, the true colors shining through.

We finally come to a sudden halt in front of a gas station, the windows old and cracked. Screams and yells erupt from inside, the lights flashing. And of course the drunken, dazed public is ignoring the crisis, walking by with expressionless faces.

I slide off Xavier as he morphs back into a man. He produces from his pocket a black mask, slipping it over his eyes. The other werewolves morph also, following Xavier into the action after applying their own facial accessory.

I choke down the urge to laugh. As if anyone wouldn’t recognize them behind a paltry mask that doesn’t hide their unique hair color or bright eyes.

Xavier looks at me and mouths, "stay here." He touches my shoulder then walks away with the others like he really expects me to obey him.

I run after them, hiding behind a broken-down truck as they enter through the glass doors. Reaching up, I step onto the back of it and grab the broken window ledge, trying to look in. I gasp as a truly horrifying sight meets my eyes.

Flurries of people are huddled into a clump of raw fear. Right behind the counter, a young, rather handsome teen with caramel skin rigidly stands at the cash register, holding money in his hand.

But what scares me the most is that a rather odd youth, slim and geeky looking, is holding a gun right next to the cashier. His whole form betrays that he is scared and shaking, and his clothes are ripped and torn. However, it is his manner that alerts me to the truth.

His back looks exactly like my dad's did when he was possessed by the Shifter.

The cashier shovels more cash into a large bag, although I know that is not what the Shifter wants. It wants death. Destruction. Pain, hurt, and loss.

I can spy it through the way he is holding the gun. He cannot hold back much longer. The Shifter will have its way.

Where's Xavier and the rest of them? What are they doing?

The tension snaps, and the gun booms. I wince, looking away quickly. I don't want to see blood, especially of the innocent.

Screams follow, and frenzied movement resumes inside the gas station. I look back to see the crowd standing in utter shock, staring at the empty space where the terrorizer used to be. A hole is freshly created through the bag of money, narrowly missing the cashier. Obviously he was the target. I breathe a sigh of relief along with the cashier as I step down from the truck.

"Had enough peeping?" a decadent, alluring voice whispers into my ear, a hand firmly grabbing me by the waist. The air rushes by as the scene around me blurs, I becoming rather confused.

Xavier deposits me in a rough, dark area, three walls surrounding me. The other werewolves stop also, Ray carrying the attacker. "It wasn't peeping," I hotheadedly respond to Xavier as he crosses over to the boy, "just watching."

"Did you see us?" Yi asks inquisitively. I shake my head, and they all grin.

"Our speed is just as good as always," Jake laughs, "we haven't gotten any slower these past twenty years like Yi said we were."

"What?"

"When we reach our top speed, us and everything moving with us becomes unable to see by the human eye."

I fall silent, watching the boy go into convulsions. He thrashes, agony inflicting upon him like a barbed whip. Xavier stands over him, examining him coldly. The boy turns his face my way, and I get a glance at his pair of eyes. His eyes...

Fiery red.

"Cover your eyes," Xavier commands me, "this will be rather... um... dirty." Wes grabs my arms, his movement solemn.

"What are you going to do to him?!" I nearly scream in alarm. I have never seen Xavier so... bloodthirsty.

"A Shifter cannot be vanquished without the killing of its host," Jake says slowly.

Sadness overwhelms me like a tidal wave, encompassing my mind until nothing else is left. Not now. They can't.

No.

"Let me see him!" I scream, my voice uncannily high.

"It's not safe, Mona. It will be over soon," Xavier tries to sooth me, but there is nothing left in my mind. I have to touch him.

They will NOT kill a human in front of me.

"If you don't let me," I yank against my bondage, "then I will hate you for the rest of my life." I make each word bite into his skin, rip into his heart. He freezes, his foot on the teen's chest. Resignedly, he backs up, fear amount.

"Hold him to the wall," he orders, and the four race to do his bidding. The boy yaps, his eyes filled with fire, his actions meant to hurt. He is hefted against the brick, blood slipping out of a gash on his cheek down with his sweat onto his shirt. I shrug off pure disgust, and edge closer.

A light drizzle begins, the darkness I had perceived earlier dawning upon us all. I reach him, standing only a few inches away from the boy fated to death. Sorrow rips through my heart, and I reach out with one tender finger...

As I make contact with his chest, I am suddenly enveloped in voices. Strange sounds occupy my thoughts, my mind. There is one overwhelming boom resounding, so loud and cold that it makes me shiver. KILL, it demands repeatedly, like the beating of a drum. My senses are overloaded with this one command.

However, a small voice, rippling with fear, pain, and hurt, begs to become dominant. It screams for help, like a wail in the fleeting night. It is horrible, invoking my deepest compassion. The boy is still there, even though the Shifter has taken over. He is still fighting, still waging an internal war for his mind back. Hope floods through me, and with it, determination.

"Take him with us." I take my hand off him, realizing suddenly that I had dropped to the ground. My head pounds with the scalding fear, the overbearing order that blocks out most else.

"What?!" Ray asks furiously, "we can't!"

"What happened, Mona?" Xavier asks gently, coming by me. He rubs my back again, and this time it does nothing to ease the pain.

My breath comes in short gasps as I stare at the ground, at the water now dancing towards the drain, flooding past my feet. In one sudden movement, I force myself to meet their gaze, their questions.

"That boy is still alive," I murmur, looking at my hand. It still tingles from when I touched him, shock resounding throughout my body. "We can save him."

I know I can. If I am able to reach out a little bit more, I can purge him of the internal devil. Cleanse him, and most likely others.

Xavier grabs me in his arms as I slump, the blackness overcoming me like a blanket until all is lost.