Entry Fifty Eight

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Geroux was right, timing truly is everything.

My body went low to the grass, since I had slowed. I kept to the outskirts of town, moving through shrubs, staying out of sight until I could find a dense cloudy mist of their scent.

After some time, I found it - a straight-ish line of mist that lead to a big cloud emanating from a dwelling adjoining to upscale inn.

The streets were unusually bustling for quite an out-of-the-way place, so I decided to wait until the evening, when less people would be around.

I hid in a thicket just on the edge of the town with a direct line of view to the room, from where the scent of the two emanated.

* * *

Later, the sun had set and the trees were silhouetted against a magnificent orange glow. I saw Chantelle and Pierre through a window. Hair a mess, clothes askew, a laissez faire attitude - they had been cavorting.

The hair along the centre of my wolf back bristled.

I remember thinking how if I wasn't already going to kill them, they would have been the talk of the town. And by "talk" I, of course, mean their combined effort of sleeping together outside of marriage would devalue the family name even more.

Then with my wolf-vision I spied a diamond ring on Chantelle's wedding finger.

I let out a low snarl.

A variety of French curse words filled my head, I never knew the extent of my vulgar vocabulary until that very moment.

Of course, they had eloped. I wouldn't expect anything less from those two cowards.

I supposed this getaway was some kind of informal honeymoon.

Well...

The honeymoon was about to be over.

* * *

In the dark of night, my black fur provided a natural camouflage. I couldn't sit still, so I stalked up and down the length of the thicket. Without noticing until much later, no matter where I walked I always kept out of the light - it was instinctive. I had to flick a few bugs off my wolf-body using my foot, which I didn't mind doing because I loved the feel of my silky, smooth fur.

I practised concentrating my hearing, zeroing in on sounds beyond the outer wall of the inn. With a concentrated degree of focus, I was able to hear Pierre and Chantelle's voices alongside the innkeeper's pleasantries.

The door to their dwelling opened and out stepped Chantelle frocked in a magnificent white evening dress and Pierre wore a light blue gentleman's dinner suit.

Had I not known the story behind their pairing, I too would have been fooled into thinking that they were the sweetest couple. They were on their way to a dinner.

Nobody was around.

This was my chance.

It was ironic, how if Pierre had just made an effort to find me, as opposed to finding Chantelle's bosoms, I wouldn't have been lying in wait, as a wolf, ready to end his life.

As I moved closer, still keeping low to the ground, I could hear their conversation. Chantelle would ask if her outfit was more beautiful than other outfits she had worn previously, Pierre said yes. While Pierre asked if he was the most handsome suitor Chantelle had ever had. She said yes. (Which was a lie - Luc Vincent was far and away her most handsome suitor - he certainly dodged a bullet, or in this case, a claw)

I remained undetected as Pierre pulled Chantelle aside, down an empty alleyway and kissed her deeply. I followed them down and witnessed their moment. All the sadness, the disillusionment, the fear and the humiliation of what had happened to me all came together at once and took over.

It was then that I attacked. They never did see me coming. I was so fast and they were in such shock that neither one had a chance to scream.

My claws were sharper than any knife I had ever used. They made the whole process a lot easier, albeit quite messy.

Chantelle kicked my snout and her heels made it almost hurt. It provided me with a surge of anger that I channelled directly into eviscerating her. If I wasn't having my happily ever after, there was no that she was either.

Pierre continued his reign of disappointing behaviour, putting up no fight whatsoever. He basically just laid there, accepting his fate. I remember looking at him and thinking of how he ruined everything. Our relationship, our family dynamic, my life...

I was devastated when Pierre ripped my heart out. The pain felt unbearable.

So I ripped his out. Literally.

I daresay when comparing the two, it was more painful for him.

___________

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