❝You play with fire because you want to get burnt.❞
Ever since she was a child, Roseanne Song liked to play with fire. She enjoyed the warmth it spread, how the flames would lick the tips of her fingers as the match became smaller. After the deat...
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The Bayou was a wetland region just outside of New Orleans, a refuge for the werewolves of the area. Their space had been invaded by those that heard about the miracle pregnancy between a vampire and a werewolf. The small open area had one large RV, several tents, and an open space where the obvious campfire had been the night before. There were people in front of the RV, in front of a rather large grill. It appeared like a family reunion, the ones they saw on TV. In a way, it was.
Werewolves weren't such territorial species as the films and books made them seem, but they did mind when unannounced guests arrived and tried to fight them. There were no domineering alphas, no crazy serial killer mysteries. Although, they did exist around the world. In fact, werewolves were a giant family unit. There were even rumours about Fae straight up handing changelings to packs, no deception necessary. It was the reason why Nemiah and Agnes had so easily taken her in without so much as a third thought—there certainly was a second thought—about taking her in, since she was covered in blood when found and she refused to speak about her past.
"There's fewer people than I expected," Nemiah muttered as he stopped and turned off the car. "What the hell happened here?"
One of the men from the circle walked towards them, motioning them to roll down the windows. He stopped by Nemiah's side, eyes squinted from the high sun that fell from his face. "What are ya'll doing here?"
"The same reason you're all here," Nemiah answered, quickly eyeing the wolves that stared back at him. "I thought this would have been more full..."
The man let out a sigh and glanced back to the circle. "I'm surprised you all came with what's been happening in the past few days." His voice became softer along with his eyes. No longer did the atmosphere sizzle with the anticipation of a fight, instead, it was covered in solemness. "Vampires came by a few days ago. It was a massacre for those that don't know this area. We're taking a break from digging graves..." His voice trailed off as he stared at the bayou in front of him.
"We'll help," Nemiah quickly said, nodding. "It's just five of us, but we'll help as much as possible."
Roseanne's hands and face were covered in dirt and dried blood. The blood was not her own but from the bodies, she had helped move. If it were not for the broken necks or the deep gashes, she would have thought they were sleeping. There were a couple of times where she gagged, to the point where she had to drop whichever part of the body she was holding and move to the side to spit.
The bodies allowed memories she had tried to forget to appear back in her mind. They arrived as flashes, just here and there and momentarily gone. With each body that she moved, the more she saw them. The images were vivid, the scent strong, and for a moment she almost called out their names.
A man grabbed the body from her arms. "Let me help you," he said, giving her a smile. His dark brown hair was messy, with a hint of mud and blood on it. "Is this your first time seeing a dead body?"
