Things that Go Bump in the Night

Chapter 1: Shit House Scary

Chapter 1:

"I don't care what the government says, werewolves are shit house scary." I growled as I sharpened the blade of one of my silver knives, making the edge gleam wickedly in the candle light.

"Juniper, you could get in trouble for having those." Cheyenne whispered, looking around the room like we were being watched. I wasn't stupid. We were in the most interior room of the house, no windows for anyone to see into and at least four walls to muffle our voices. Even one of the beasts themselves wouldn't have reason to suspect anything fishy was going on in my house. I glared at her.

"I would rather be in trouble than dead or worse." I glowered at her, digging into my satchel to pull out the poison salve that I had made from herbs I had collected in the woods and a silver based powder. I ran the edge of the blade through it carefully and slipped it back into the thigh sheath that was still resting on the floor with the rest of its companions. I had five throwing knives and one dagger total. Keeping them in the thigh sheath under my baggy cargo pants made them seemingly invisible to anyone. Not that anyone would look anyway. But with those monster controlling everything I wasn't about to take chances.

"What could be worse than dead?" Cheyenne had the stupidity to ask me. I glared at her again pulling my gun out of the back of my pants and taking it apart to clean it.

"Worse is what happened to Norma Rodgers." I grumbled, working over my piece.

Cheyenne hesitated, looking at me with an expression that was both nervous and timid.

"Do you actually plan on even using that thing?" she asked me, obviously talking about the handgun I was cleaning.

"I hope that I never have to, but I will if I think I need to." I answered. She looked toward the door uncomfortably again.

"Juniper I really don't want to be part of this. I mean if the patrols catch you with this stuff I could get into a ton of trouble for not telling them what is going on." She admitted. I held back a laugh at that. Typically Chey. Always interested in keeping her own ass covered.

"It's not like I am forcing you to be in here. You can go outside and run around naked with your butt in the air for all the beasts to see for all I care. I don't even know why you are in here to begin with anyways." I admitted looking up at her with a bland expression. She blushed, obviously flabbergasted at my crude suggestion. Chey was also an uncompromising prude.

"I was just trying to talk some sense into you and this is how you treat me?" she puffed. "And for your information, I don't think that Norma's situation is so bad. I mean she gets to live in the better district and she no longer has to live with the ration restriction."

My fists clenched and I looked up at my half-sister with a building anger that shook my frame.

"And she has to spend every moment with a freaking monster. She has to have sex with a beast and bear monster children. Not to mention that she is not allowed to go anywhere without the monster who owns her."

Cheyenne huffed and stood up to leave. She smoothed out her rumpled nightshirt and looked down at me with her mother's blue eyes set against the dark hair of our father, the candle light and her defensive posture making her look younger than she actually was.

"I just think that you are not looking at the situation with a very open mind." She said down to me a haughty look on her face. Open mind? They don't deserve an open mind.

"Have you forgotten our father Chey? You know, the man who raised us?" I snarled at her, as I put my now clean gun back together. "Have you forgotten the fact that those monsters killed him? Or do you just not care anymore?"

She gaped at me for a moment and then seemed to sober, drawing her face up into a mask of disgust.

"Not all werewolves killed our father Juniper." She said to me again in a superior tone, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I choose to believe that not all of them are monsters. You are just stereotyping like some sort of racist." She told me. I smiled at her knowingly. I knew my sister. This wasn't about being noble or accepting. She had always been obsessed with having things. And right now the only people who had anything were the beasts themselves.

"Personally I don't give a shit if it is stereotyping. I'm not going to forgive our father's murder no matter how rich they are or how much food they can eat. I hate them. And if I ever feel threatened by one of them I will not hesitate to kill them."

Cheyenne gaped at me again and then shook her head.

"If we were not blood related I would report you in a heart-beat." She whispered. I smirked and shook my head.

"You wouldn't know any of my activities if we weren't blood related because I would stay the hell away from you. Speaking of which I would appreciate it if you left me the hell alone, you're giving me a head ache bigger than Texas." I informed her, reloading the gun and shoving it back into the back of my pants.

She didn't say anything in returned as she stalked out of the room with her nose stuck in the air. I watched her go and then exhaled sharply in both relief and anger. I leaned back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry Dad." I mumbled toward the ceiling of the closet like room. The drywall was cracking and there were water damage stains from where the roof leaked. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath feeling my eyes sting with the memory of the tears that I had shed in this little room.

After a minute or two I opened my eyes and picked up my thigh sheath, rolling up my pants leg so I could put it in place above my knee, strapping the Velcro securely before standing up and blowing the candle out. I sauntered out of the inlet room and walked to my bedroom to quickly get into my bed which was crammed as far into the corner, away from the cross hair view from the windows. If I had blinds or curtains I would have shut them but it was against the law now. All humans must keep their windows unblocked so that they could "protect" us. More like see what we were doing at all hours even in the privacy of our own homes. I pulled the covers over me and buried my face into my pillow. In about four hours I would have to get up and go to work. Out there. With the monsters that I hated oh so near.