WildFire - Paul Lahote ✔

SEVENTEEN

Everly's POV

I walked in the park casually, trying not to draw attention to myself. Children ran around me with their friends and the parents talking and watching their children. I looked around at all the trees, trying to find the right one. Finally, I spot the mis-shaped maple tree. Walking over to it, I quickly reach my hand into the top hole and feel around, my fingers gripping the familiar material. Pulling it out, I blew the dust off the black leather duffle bag. It's been there for around two years. I'm surprised that no one has found it yet.

I find a public bathroom five minutes later and change into the outfit in the duffle bag. Black skinny jeans, red crop top, black combat boots, and my black leather jacket around my waist. I loved the feeling of these clothes on my body. It had been so long since I last had them on. Taking two rubber elastics, I quickly put my hair into double french braids and then dabbed some blood red lipstick on.

I put my other clothes in the duffle bag before putting it back in the same tree, walking away. I ran my fingers against the brick of a coffee shop, only stopping to walk into the store. No one was in the tiny shop except for the girl at the counter. Strutting up to her, I leaned against the counter, clearing my throat. The girl's head snapped up to mine.

"C-c-can I help y-you?" The girl stuttered, obviously surprised. I smirked.

"Yes, I would like to speak to your boss. Your boss is Richard Will correct?" I asked. The girl nodded quickly. "Then tell him that I would like to speak to him." The girl, Carlee as her nametag read, frowned and shook her head.

"I'm sorry but he is busy at the moment and doesn't want visitors." Carlee replied, shyly playing with the tips of her brown hair.

I sent her a smirk. "Well then. Could you make me a pumpkin spice? I'll only be at least ten minutes." I asked politely before hopping over the counter. Carlee told me to stop but I didn't listen, knowing exactly where to go. I didn't bother knocking, I just walked right in.

Crossing my arms, I stood in front of the old man's desk, who was looking down at a paper. He frowned, probably thinking I was that Carlee girl.

"Carlee, how many times do I have to tell you -" Richard looked up, his eyes widening as he cut himself off when he saw it was me.

"Tia." Richard said, fear in his voice. I would've smirked if I wasn't already smirking. I'll explain later why he called me Tia.

"I need a favor." I told him, sitting down in one of the grey chairs. Richard watched my every movement, not knowing what I was going to do next. He knows what I am capable of.

"And what would that be?" Richard gulped. Ahh, he must've seen the glint in my eyes. The glint that hasn't been there for nearly three years. I thought that my days as that person was over. But I guess not.

"Where is Zachary Lent?" I questioned, getting up and wandering around the room. "I know that you know where he is."

"Why do you want to know where Zachary is? He's been off the grid for years. He retired." Richard told me. I spun around to face him. His emotions told me that he was lying.

"I think that you forget that I know when your lying." Richard didn't reply or look at me, just simply stared at his desk. "Where. Is. Zachary. Lent." I growled out each word. The old man flinched everytime.

"What happened to you?" Richard whispered, finally looking up at me. I saw that he had a sad expression on his face. I checked his emotions and he was feeling wonder, confusion, and sadness.

"That man made me what I am. And now he wants to hurt my family and I'm not going to let that happen. Now tell me where he is before I get even more angry. And you've seen what happens when I get angry." Richard looked scared. Then he sighed and pulled open a drawer. The old man then pulled out a thin gray folder and handed it to me.

I skimmed over it, getting his last known location. New York City, New York. Well New York City, get ready, I'm coming for you. I threw the file on Richards desk before walking out of the room, back to the front counter. Jumping over to the front of the counter, Carlee handed me my coffee with wide eyes. I took a sip, enjoying the taste. I handed the girl a twenty and left the shop.

As I walked down the street, drinking my coffee, I felt my markings forming on my body. Dang it, I totally forgot about that part. Now, your probably wondering what I mean by markings. Well, you see, I had a totally different life when I separated from the Cullen's those ten years. I wasn't known as Everly Cullen in those years. I was someone different, totally different.

I was Tia Smith.

Better known as the Ripper Queen.

I hunted people down, supernatural creatures who broke the rules. I always found them. After that, blood was spilled. In the human world, I was called the Mass Murder. In the supernatural world, I was called the Ripper Queen. I tore there bodies into pieces and sometimes drank there blood.

Every supernatural group has there own legend about me. For example, the vampires think that I had a horrible past that made me the way I am. Which is partly true. And for the werewolves, they think it was because I was hurt by a man, because I mostly killed men. But only the ones who deserved it. They are both right. I was hurt by a man who ruined me forever and left me to die in the bottom of a lake.

Anyway, my markings give away who I am. Red and black lines go all across my arms, shoulders, and stomach. They don't make any sense and not even I know what they mean. I am recognized by the markings by all supernatural.

"Oh. My. God." An all too familiar voice said. My whole body froze. I didn't dare to turn around. I didn't speak. I just stood completely still right there on that sidewalk.

"It can't be." Another familiar voice whispered.

"Tia Smith has been gone for three years, that can't be her." Another familiar voice.

"Do you see those markings!? That is most definitely Tia Smith. Better yet, the Ripper Queen." Voice two said.

"Tia Smith, turn around and turn yourself in." A new voice boomed. But I didn't dare to move. Instead, I took another drink of my coffee, finishing it off. I threw it away before sighing. I might as get this over with. Not knowing how it would turn out, my body slowly moved to face them.

By the looks of some of them, they would scream. Some looked like they could cry. Or pass out.

My family stood in front of me. My whole family. And I couldn't help but think that they would never think the same of me again.