Lycius strode down the hall of portraits -- or the gallery of his ancestors who stared aimlessly at the opposing walls, yet he felt their gaze burning holes into his spine. Shame. He felt ashamed for what he was about to do. His grandparent's eyes seemed to glimmer in sadness, so he moved a little faster past them feeling a phantom pain in his hand when he avoided contact with his mean grandfather. He lingered in front of the most recent portrait, the one of his family with his mother and father's hands on his shoulders. It was lighter than the others and lacked the red motif that was prevalent in all the other paintings. Instead of heavy red drapes in the background, his mother had selected a pale blue wall for them to sit in front of with brighter casual clothing to bring out the liveliness in us. He remembered her reasoning with his father, convincing him to break tradition and go with a simple blue theme and how betrayed his father had felt though he didn't fully understand why. Maybe they both felt the pressure of our dead predecessors, maybe his parents felt the weight of their presence in the corridors at night like he did.
The artist had made their eyes stand out in a vivid azure and he felt the artist had truly captured the distance between each of them. They were alien eyes looking back at him. He stared at his younger face, at his raven hair that had grown much longer now and didn't jut out like the head of a porcupine. He then studied the silly ruffled shirt his mother made him wear that day. He hated it, fussed and complained that it was itchy even though it was made of the softest fabric. He felt like a dickhead then but now he was considering buying a new one to impress Rhea.
She was starting to come to school in strange clothing, still in black, but now with skirts running down to her ankles, and long-sleeved blouses, with glittery violet make-up fading into the arches of her plucked eyebrows. Teachers were calling her out for her make-up, which was fair enough, but when they were calling her out for the "depressing costumes" he would insert himself at her defence. In the end, he would piss off everybody. Rhea for fighting her battles too aggressively and the teachers for being unreasonably difficult and a "menace with no cause".
They had shared an after school detention where he learnt that Rhea was upset that the country didn't celebrate Halloween like they ought to. That she would kill for a proper Halloween party...
When he got home he endured the scolding of his mother and the verbal thrashing of his father as he transformed into a beast. Lycius was frightened however Rhea's words had rung through his head as his father stomped about as a werewolf in the house.
He waltzed down into the kitchen and started making his father a sandwich and poured a cup of orange juice. He peered at the empty doorway before reaching into his trouser pocket to pull out his mother's antidepressants. The ones that knock her out at night.
He crushed the pills using a mortar and pestle and ground them into a fine powder before pouring the dust into the juice and stirring it in.
Lycius ran up and left the tray at his father's bedroom door in a cold sweat and waited.
'Aren't you cold Rhea?' Paul said as the street started to simmer down. Only a few people now and again were trickling in and Paul and his colleague dealt with them masterfully quick whether they were letting them in or turning them away for being too intoxicated. Paul tilted his chin up a lot, and I paid maybe too much attention to the way his nostrils would flare in distaste at the drunks coming his way from around the corner. His colleague, who I learnt was named Jamal was very friendly but he would hide me with his body when intoxicated party-goers noticed me.
Paul's light brown hair was greying at the roots, he was a silver fox and from his jean pocket, he pulled a packet of cigarettes propping one between his lips before offering the box to me. I shook my head.
'I'm fine thank you,' I said refusing the question and the offer. He covered the end of his ciggie with his hand while the other struck the lighter. His crow's feet crinkled in focus and I slipped into my night vision on ever so slightly to watch the colours of the flame burn red and blue against the glowing violet of his skin. 'I hope that I can be very upfront with you.' I ran a hand through my scalp, my fingers knotting under my loose bun. 'What I have to say may come off strange... Maybe even offensive.'
Paul chuckled. 'Out with it then before you scare yourself.' He licked chapped lips and stared through the windows into the nightclub. A guard inside gave him the thumbs up. Paul laughed again and muttered, 'Newbie. Thought I'd throw him in the deep end tonight. He's a nervous talker.'
'Good luck to him. I've heard terrible things about this place.'
'Not all are true. They recently switched security companies so I hope to whip this place into shape.'
'I don't doubt your power.' I grinned. 'Might I ask you a few hypothetical questions? It'll just make this conversation easier to get through.'
'Are you in trouble?'
'My friend is.'
'Ah, right, your friend.'
I laughed. 'I actually mean it this time. Um, how do I even start this? Uh, you know that I am a creature of the night?'
The guard beside him snickered. 'You'll have no judgement from us. We respect sex workers.' This strange guard nodded his head politely but Paul looked very serious and blew out smoke from his nostrils.
He put a hand on my shoulder and pointed to the opposite side of the entrance. He gave a command to his colleague and met at the stairs looking grave. 'What is this?'
'I'm sorry, it's I know you're a -- you know.'
He let out a loud huff sending more tendrils of smoke through his nostrils. 'You gotta be careful who you out yourself too.'
'I've known you for years now, besides this is all hypothetical.'
'Right,' he said coldly. 'Go on then. About your friend.'
'My friend who is a werewolf,' I said. I could be wrong but I thought Paul had sniffed the air between us.
'What pack?' he narrowed his eyes.
'He has none. He's by himself but he's not like other Lycans.' Paul waited for me to continue as I struggled to find the words. 'In this hypothetical situation, my mother was a witch. She had a journal talking about what werewolves are like today and on that night when I found out... He wasn't like that at all. He was-,'
'A monster,' Paul finished looking grave.
'There are other wolves too who had completely succumbed to their monstrous side. He seems to have held but I don't understand, I thought all werewolves had evolved centuries ago.'
'Does he know you know?'
'Yes, and I want to help him.'
'Help yourself,' he said throwing his cigarette out onto the stairs only to pull out a new one. I wasn't in a position to tell him off for littering so I let it slide but all of me wanted to run down and throw the cigarette away. 'You need to run.'
'That's not possible.'
'Well make it. He's not your problem.'
'I can't believe this...' I said disapprovingly. 'What kind of attitude is that to have?'
'I don't say this because of spite.' Smoke burned through his nostrils. 'I say this because I know better. If this hypothetical fellow is indeed more monster than werewolf then he might be sick with an old curse. There's nothing anyone can do for him. Those who have tried to fight it only succumbed to it quicker. Some of us just aren't lucky.'
'Wait a minute, this ancient old curse is still active? Why does it affect different wolves? Is it a genetic thing? Or is it really a curse?'
'Nobody can say. It happened to my hypothetical cousin. I did my best, but he became a beast. It wasn't triggered by anything but misfortune. Most bad wolves go off to the Darlings for help but not all of them come back.'
'The Darlings?'
'You should know them, surely. They're a wizard family.'
'You assume we all know each other just because I'm a witch,' I said with a smirk.
'Just as you assumed I was a werewolf because of my good looks,' he said a little more upbeat. 'What gave it away?'
'Your manly magnetism?'
He laughed and inhaled a poisoned breath. 'I'm serious though, there's nothing that can be done. All he can do is enjoy his free years before the demons take over.' The night's chill ran down my spine.
'What did you do with your cousin?' I said. I really didn't want to know the answer.
Paul had his arms crossed over his chest as he stared off onto the road in a daze. I sensed a great pain emanating off him but couldn't push it as Giannis thundered out of the nightclub, I felt him like how someone feels an eel curl around their wrist underwater.
'What's up?' I asked Giannis impatiently.
'Are you coming in or what?' he said looking between the security guard and me. 'Your sister is asking for you.'
Now that I contested. 'I'll be one minute.' Giannis nodded though he did not look pleased as he marched back up the stairs into Penthouse. I caught Paul eyeing up Giannis with the most unreadable expression. Like predator weighing out how hungry it was.
'You really see the good in everyone don't you?' he said.
I scoffed. 'Not everyone.' No one but those closest to my heart and who are truly hurt. I should just go and bother Lycius until he accepts my help just to shut me up. I shouldn't let his frigid mother keep me back from my instincts. 'So, the Darlings help werewolves with this sickness?'
'Sometimes. It doesn't always work but everyone affected whether cursed or not is willing to take that chance.' Paul gazed at me with the deepest sympathy, and I didn't appreciate it. 'You're just a kid.'
Ugh. 'So, is he.'
His dark eyes glinted as if I had just given him what he needed. As if I had just confirmed something. I didn't like this look. I didn't know what it meant – forget the irony of this statement – I hated being in the dark.
I stepped forward narrowing my eyes. 'You know who I'm talking about don't you?'
'Stay away from this friend of yours, Rhea. The boy will only bring you pain.'
'Well, that's just lousy advice,' I said with slight venom.
'There's nothing you can do for him.'
'Final word?'
'Final word.'
I spun on my heel unsatisfied and stormed inside Penthouse. Maybe a drink and a dance would settle my anger, or maybe I could take it out on Giannis. He was begging for a beating.
The bass of the music reverberated out the speakers through to my chest. It violently pumped through my blood and pounded in my head as I stomped around purposeless. The aggression of the music even riled me up until I felt like jumping up and down like the fools all around me. I lived for this kind of revelled chaos but knowing Giannis and his friends were running berserk had me teetering to the edge. He was nowhere to be seen and yet he was everywhere. He was every dancer kicking cups across the floor, the stickiness of the ground that wanted to glue my boots to the floorboards, it felt like he was every man in the room. Giannis was club Penthouse. I picked up the loose cup when it knocked into my heel for the third time and placed it onto the nearest surface I could make out.
I didn't want to heighten my dark vision. I really really didn't want to take in the sight of Penthouse and have it permanently burned into my brain. I went in blind through that sea of sweat and captured a tongue with a grimy man attached lunging forward towards me. I had to hurtle myself aside but felt a thick wet line run from the length of my cheek to my ear. I couldn't even whimper or work up the courage to wipe my cheek. I felt like this strange man had run his tongue all over me and that I was suddenly a walking disease.
Animals.
To my left was a couple leaning back against a pillar– man over woman with his finger up inside her and her skirt hoisted up to her hips.
Ferals.
'So, this is how straight people party,' I said to myself. Disgusting. No. No, don't be judgmental, at least that looked consensual. What about your consent to witnessing it?
My mind swooped to the pink lights dancing along my body and lit up the glittery powder spread across my skin while I stood by the bar. The neon blues and greens shone on Giannis and the other dancers, contorting their savage yet serene faces into ones full of shadows. The sight of him amongst them earned a shudder from me because I wanted to run when he realised I was finally past the threshold. Giannis froze as he watched me walk by outside the crowd and stretched out a hand to beckon me over. Arianna was dancing in circles around him with the boys not as wild as I knew she could be at a club. All I wanted to do was stretch out and pull my sister back into my arms, cast my own darkness into the crowd and steal their light so I could make a getaway for the door.
Arianna crashed against me with dark eyes shining with mischievous glee. She ordered a drink at the bar and once she got it she was ready to scurry away back to the sweat pool. I caught her gently by her wrist.
'I taught you better etiquette. Don't bring your drink to a dance floor or someone like me will smash it over your head,' I said. Ari rolled her eyes and relaxed against the bar spinning the straw in her glass. 'Are you having fun?'
'Yeah. I mean, it's weird here.' She shrugged. 'I've been to better.'
'Anything is better.'
She nodded in agreement though she seemed to be doing it begrudgingly. 'Giannis is angry.'
'At me?' he looked fine over in the sweat pool as he danced against some girl. If you want to call it dancing.
'I don't know. I think you should dance with him though. You did leave him stranded.' And here I was thinking that he didn't care. That I was just some alternative eye candy for him to show off. It still could have been just that and because I had apparently stranded him, he was now going to throw a hissy fit.
'Why do you like him so much?'
'I'm just saying, he invited you out and you haven't really given him a chance to disprove your idea of him.' I stared at her incredulously as she stared sympathetically at a man who did not need nor ask for her compassion.
'Men aren't owed attention just because they ask for it. Especially when it's unwillingly given.'
'You're making things really tense for no reason. He speaks really highly of you to me.' I couldn't help but feel betrayed by her. First, I was making things overly complicated and now I wasn't giving someone a chance. The audacity of this girl.
'And you don't think there's a motive behind that?' I said.
'Ugh forget it! Go chase your werewolf dick!' she skulled down her drink and slammed her empty cup down on the bar before she stomped back onto the dancefloor. Feeling guilty I followed her in and lost her very quickly in the whirlpool of grabby hands and sticky floorboards. Seriously is it just spilled alcohol or something else? Ah! Don't think about it. Disgusting!
I took the topless men detour heading up to the DJ's stage for a better view of the club and the next thing I knew Giannis had me trapped in the middle of the mob with his hands at my hips, my waist, my legs, and shoulders – knees and toes, knees and toes – sorry couldn't resist.
Giannis collided his forehead into mine with a painful thump and I had to keep us locked that, head-to-head to make sure he did venture forward for a kiss. I felt I had no choice but to dance lazily with him and ended up enjoying myself once my back was turned and felt he couldn't do too much damage grinding against me from behind. What fuck am I doing here? I kept myself that way and scanned the sea for Ari. Every time I caught the bob of a dark head of hair it disappeared or was some other dark-haired stranger. By the entrance, I noticed a large hulky figure enter cast under complete shadow and before I had the chance to adjust my sight a warm hand snuck around to my stomach and Giannis yanked me in until I smacked into his overheated body. I quickly forgot about the newcomer.
Whatever.
When it was no longer safe to keep my back to Giannis, because his mouth had found a way to my neck around my choker, I ran for the bar. I wanted to douse my flesh with ice-cold water so the heat of the night wouldn't burn out what common sense I had left.
Giannis waved his arms in a "what happened?" gesture and I responded with a half-hearted shrug. I had to go through it my head, talk myself out of my stupor. Yes, Gianni looked hot under the lights and in the mist of "glamour". He only seemed desirable now because he wasn't talking enough to trigger me. It was the music, mixed with hands roaming on me while I got lost in my head that made Giannis transform into an enigmatic being.
I could see now how he got girls into bed with him. I was nearly compelled to myself. I shivered at the thought of even holding hands with him.
In what seemed like a blink, Giannis shadowed me and had me caged against the counter. That was the second time today he had me cornered if not pinned to a surface that I couldn't immediately escape. Another shadow passed us both behind him and it paused, a hooded looming figure glaring at us over their shoulder. Giannis mouthed something that I couldn't understand so I leaned in with my ear and felt him take a bite out of my neck. His hands snatched my waist while mine clawed into his arms as I tried to pull away.
'Why do you keep fighting me?' he said frustrated. His breath felt hot on my neck as I shot him a glare, the anger flaring up again under that stupid affronted stare. He looked at me as if I was being unreasonable. The figure had moved on.
'That's the thing, isn't it?' I said. 'I'm fighting you off, I'm trying to lie to you to avoid going on this date, or whatever you want to call it. So, tell me John, why are you still so persistent?'
'What?' he said confused. He hadn't heard me, but I would make him hear me. I was done. I scowled and pressed my mouth right into his ear until I could feel the gel in his hair scrape my face. 'I'm not attracted to you.'
He laughed. 'Yeah sure, Ree.'
'I don't want you,' I said the music pounded loudly between the thick silence between us. Giannis had grown stiff, but I stormed around him glad to get away and when I glared at him over my shoulder he was still positioned there. His jaw was clenched, and he had an arm resting on the bar with a hand curled into a fist. Yes, ponder that little man. I'm sick of you and all your fuck boy bullshit.
When the next dusty man leapt into my path, I shoved him out of my way and cursed him out not that he heard me. When a new hand grabbed me, I nearly slapped the aggressor by spinning on my heel with my palm open. I froze mid-attack when I realised it was Ari shaking me. She looked mortified and pointed to the group behind us in the wake of a fight. Ari fell back, slammed into my gut as I caught us both before we smacked into the ground. Giannis and his gang were throwing punches at some other random men that were the perfect mirror image of them in style. Giannis savagely attacked any man around him, nearly elbowing a woman in the face and that couple against the pillar had fallen into a half-naked heap into a waiter meaning all these plastic cups went flying through the air.
You've got to be fucking kidding me.
The bouncers were quick as light but they made sure that they were getting the other patrons to safety before going for the battle of brutes. They cleared a path for Paul to charge forward, his dark shining with rage as he grabbed Giannis by the back of his shirt. He dragged the man down with little to no effort and didn't blink when Giannis shouted at him, demanding to be released and threatening to kill him. I grabbed my sister's hand and beelined for the nearest emergency exit. For once she didn't complain.
Happy New Year everyone! Welcome to 2022 and let it be a bloody great year to us all.
Or at least let it treat us kindly than the big old brute 2021 and their monstrous sibling 2020.
Let's see what else? Stay hydrated! Water your plants. I know they dying for it. Send an old friend a message to check up on them. You might make their day :)
Also, if you're enjoying this story please don't hesitate to vote and comment! I would really appreciate it. It would be nice to see how far this story goes.
The music video has nothing to do with the chapter other than being a hilariously good song so enjoy.