Don't Scream (Original)

Chapter 23

        Down two flights of stairs and through several rooms, Andrew lead me by the hand to a basement. The whole house was pitch black and seemingly empty, but had the pleasant aroma of cinnamon and forest in it. Whenever I visited a house for the first time, I always took note of it's overall smell. All houses had this as one of their trademarks and idiosyncrasies, but most were not as pleasant as this one. It reminded me of the transitional time between winter and spring, when the air was so fresh and clean.

        But that scent stopped as soon as we entered the basement, where a thick, musky smell smothered me and was reminiscent of a sauna. The unmistakable essence of sweat and blood also mingled with the unwelcoming feel of rough concrete under me, and I badly wanted to return upstairs.

        Even though I couldn't see, Andrew must have been able to because I never once bumped into anything, save for my brother himself as he stopped outside a door that had lots of angry voices coming from behind it. My palms grew increasingly moist with nervousness as Andrew pushed the door open, then pulled me inside.

        It was a large room, brightly lit by a fixture on the ceiling that had several bulbs in it, and cream colored paint on the walls that didn't match the brown carpet. But even more appalling than that were the people in the room, especially the center. Strapped to three metal chairs by heavy chains, sitting side-by-side, were Crane, Avery, and Jensen, surrounded by about ten (what I assumed were) werewolves. The men, who appeared to be not much older than Andrew and I, all ranged in height and size, but the one feature uniting them was their expressions. They looked ready to kill. Luckily, they were all staring at the vampires.

        My mouth fell open as I saw one of the werewolves standing over Crane, holding a pair of needle-nose pliers in his hand with a small white triangle clamped between the metal. Crane was breathing hard and apparently trying not to cry while glaring murder at the man above her. There was a steady trickle of blood leaking out of her mouth and down her chin, but both she and the man turned our direction when they noticed we were there, as did everyone else in the room. Andrew threw his arm over my shoulders and pulled me to him, a proud smile gracing his already pleased features.

"Guys, meet my sister, Abby. She's the one I've been bugging you about for the past several years."

A low chuckle rose from all around the room, seemingly coming from the walls themselves.

"And Abby, these are some of the men from my pack. They're here to help me dole out some payback to these idiots." He indicated to the vampires, who looked like they had seen better days. Jensen and Avery were both shirtless, and even though most of the marks were healing, I could tell that every inch of skin on their upper bodies had taken some sort of beating, as had their lower halves, judging from the torn and bloody pants they both had on. Avery had a swollen lip and several cuts on his face, Jensen a very bloody cheek, and I was glad to see that Crane still had her clothes on, even though they were in the same shape as her comrades’ pants.

        I shouldn't have felt bad for these three. I mean, they were cruel, heartless monsters. But as I stared at their beaten, pathetic forms, I felt a twinge of pity tug at my heart and put a scowl on my face.

"What's he doing?" I leaned in and whispered to Andrew while pointing at the werewolf with the pliers, but even from across the room he heard me.

"I'm ripping her fangs out, darlin'." He smiled toothily at me, which had quite the opposite intended effect, since I backed up a bit. He had a thick southern drawl, and for some reason it made himself and his task seem that much more gruesome. "Oh, don't worry. They'll grow back within a couple minutes, in which case I'll just rip 'em out again." He laughed nastily and tossed the current fang to the side, and Jensen let out a violent snarl while his eyes blazed crimson. One of his long legs twitched against the chain pinning it to the metal chair leg, which groaned and bent a little as he did.