Harry.
The rusted clock that hung limply on the wall read that it was just past three in the morning. My entire body felt fatigued, dead inside, numb, but my mind continued to sabotage my once undisturbed thoughts to morbid images. The continuous picture of teeth ripping into flesh, tearing meat apart from bones, murder... it's all becoming too much. Every fibre in my body has been consumed by this fear that's not just affecting me mentally but physically too.
It seems so selfish, not to mention childish to ask someone to hold you. But that someone not being just anyone, no. She's always so caring. So loving, affectionate, willing to go against her ways for others especially me and I feel as though I've taken it for granted.
3:10am.
I watch the dreaded hand of the clock move, ticking softly with every passing second. The longer I stare the more focused I become. After two full minutes the longest hand slightly rotates clock ways.
3:12am.
My hands suddenly felt numb and subconsciously I found myself tightening my fingers to form a fist and repeating the action again and again. The growls of wolves from the night of my transformation still played through my mind as if it has happened merely minutes ago. Everything was a complete blur. My father's voice was my only guide, he inflicted pain upon me so I would obey his commands, and even controlled my movement.
I shut my eyes tightly, crossing my arms and laying my head against them. My back was bent in an odd position. The chair's height was irregular and not precise according to the table's but that was honestly the least of my worries. I've been fighting this urge, this urge to succumb to the darkness, to the voices in my head that are gradually becoming louder and louder.
Join us, they always say. The voices are unfamiliar but recurring. At first they were light whispers but sometimes they overtake my senses, my need for control. They overpower me with their words. Join us.
My hands joined together, fingers entwining to form a large fist as I shut my eyes and thought of one thing. My mother's necklace. Although the distance I could feel the power it radiates. Spiritually its connection to me is powerful but I am yet to control the so called powers I have. I feel my fingers spasm as I recall memories of holding the item, twirling the chain through my fingers. The original greyness is alive with colour only if it senses my presence no matter where I am or how far away.
I imagine the feel of it in my palm, the intricate designs and the simple clouded stone speckled with white. A sudden light weight was felt in my entwined hands, and once I pulled my fingers apart I watched the necklace rest in between my fingers - the chain pooling down onto the table. A smile formed at my lips but I was otherwise too exhausted to express any other emotion. It was a dull orange, almost yellow, but not as bright as you would expect it to be. The colour was set in stone as if it was its original colour and for some reason I wanted to share my thoughts with Cassandra. I feel...happy, excited... accomplished.
These emotions feel so foreign right now. With their long absence it's a little difficult to understand what just to do when I am feeling this way. I rub away the tiredness from my eyes and with little effort fail to keep myself from succumbing to sleep, but I realise that I don't have to once I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder.
She stands behind me, scratching her scalp lightly with a tired smile. Her eyes are barely open, concealing the beautiful blue that always shimmer in the darkness.
"Come to bed," she whispered, lightly tugging on my shirt.
I didn't have it in me to decline her offer so I allowed her to pull me from the seat and followed her up the stairs with our fingers tangled in each other's. The Opal necklace hung loosely in my free hand, swinging with our movement. As we entered the bedroom two single beds are vacant whereas the other was occupied with none other than Liam who was sprawled all over the mattress with the blanket half on the floor, and his leg high up against the wall.
"How long has he been that way for?" I tiredly mumbled.
She giggled lightly with a shake of her head. "No idea."
I tossed the necklace underneath my pillow before Cass could see it and lifted the covers. I grabbed the back of my shirt, pulling it over my head and tossing it on top of my unpacked duffle bag. Already a cold chill spread down my spine, the cabin lacked warmth seeing as though it was winter. I shuffled underneath the white blanket until I was somewhat comfortable. My legs were cradled to my chest and I ignored the many shivers that rattled my body.
"Are you cold?" I heard Cass whisper on behalf of a very unconscious Liam.
"I might be."
"Don't see why you had to take your shirt off."
I grinned, turning so I was laying on my back and staring at the ceiling. "It's a habit," I slightly shrugged knowing that she wouldn't see anyway. "I'm cold, maybe you should come and warm me up."
My sudden change of mood confused me. First dismal and on the verge of insanity, and now playful?
"I dunno," she yawned. "Pretty comfortable where I am."
There was no hesitation behind my actions as I flung the blanket over my partially nude body, dragging the light material over to her bed and tossing it onto her own layer. I joined her in the warmth she was surrounded in, cuddling closer to her soft body. My head rested just above her chest where I felt the rhythmic beats of her heart. She was tense, I could feel it. My unexpected actions surprised her but I can only hope that she would be comfortable and hold me in my sleep.
I pressed my lips just above her breast. Her lips parted and I felt her soft warm breath hit my skin. The physical contact that I crave instantly relieves me from my conscience. The voices in my head are suddenly mute and what a relief that is, especially when her arms wrapped around my shoulder and brought me closer to her.
"I'll never be able to express how much gratitude I have towards you. How much you mean to me, and how much I care about you," I confess in a soft whisper. I felt the way her breath hitched in her throat, and her arms loosened around me for a fraction of a second before tightening them again. "I sound like a fucking idiot."
Her hum was quiet as she held me. "You sound like an honest idiot... Get some sleep, Harry."
And as I tried to succumb to unconsciousness I found it nearly impossible. Cass' warm breath fanned over my naked skin, instantly warming me but I couldn't help but feel cold. Cold, emotionally that is. Her body was clung onto me, arms wrapped around my torso, legs and feet in a tangled mess beneath the two layers of sheets, yet I was still cold.
A cold, confused bomb just waiting to detonate. The voices in my head were only momentarily gone, but as my thoughts wander and my mind becomes weaker I'm most vulnerable and unable to fend off whoever is speaking in my head. The voice is unrecognisable, and my confusion only stirs when more than one voice speaks over the other forming an echo. It consumes my mind, and as much as I try to ignore it by shutting my eyes tightly, they never disappear.
Join us, Harry, they'd whisper. Their voices were harsh yet soft at the same time, as if their purpose was to warn me but not to threaten. As Cass nuzzled her head in the crook of my neck was I finally broken away from my thoughts, the momentary silence was a relief that I find it to almost be addictive. She breathed out lightly, shuffling until her legs were released from the confined warmth of mine, stretching until she was satisfied enough to place her legs in between my thighs again. I smiled down at her, kissing her unruly hair that failed to be kept in her hair-tie, but I didn't mind at all.
Everything was still, for now.
Everything was quiet, for now.
Whoever was speaking to me in my mind have found their way into my thoughts, and I'm afraid that if they don't stop sooner I'll be driven closer to insanity and further away from my peace.
Cass.
I was awoken by Liam in the early morning. The light from outside was barely peaking through the small window, so immediately I knew he had woken me for good reason. His finger pressed to his lips, nodding his head to Harry, motioning me to allow him to rest whilst I gathered my things and followed him. I pulled my coat tighter against me as we descended down the stairs, the chill air bit at any exposed flesh of mine.
"Turn the goddamn heat in this shack, it's bloody cold," Louis mumbled, sipping on the mug of what I assumed was coffee. He wore a red beanie that was purposely pulled low to cover his ears. Everybody wore coats and long pants, like they are expecting to be exposed to the cold for a while.
"He asleep?" John asked me.
I nodded. "Was when I left." My voice was awfully groggy and thick from sleep, my eyes tired and heavy. I desire nothing more than to return to the warm of my bed encased by a resting Harry. "What's going on?"
It was all so quiet. My question lingered and remained unanswered. I cast a few glances around seeing that nobody was replying. Quinn opened her mouth but immediately shut it with a slight shake of her head.
"What is going on?" I repeated, slightly aggravated with the lack of response.
"They're coming," Niall whispered, grimacing at his words. Louis slammed his fist on the table, scraping his seat back and abruptly standing tall. His harsh actions seemed to only surprise me as the others appeared to be nonchalant.
I stared at each one of them with widened eyes, awaiting an explanation. Nobody bothered to expand on Niall's statement. "Who's coming?" My fists clenched together in frustration.
"The Elders... Dave... Who the fuck knows," Zayn sighed.
"What the hell are you talking about?!"
"They're coming to take him!" John shouted. I swallowed harshly. "I'm not going to sit around and watch innocent people die all for him. Don't you understand, Cassandra? With Harry alive everyone we love will die. Your father, our father's, everyone. He has nothing left to lose, so why should we suffer if he is the one they're after? We... We had to keep it from him-"
"You mean you did!" Niall snapped. "We knew absolutely nothing about this shit until just this morning. What the hell is wrong with you, John?"
"Me?!" He shouted, nearing Niall. "I'm trying to protect you, all of you! Your skull can't honestly be that thick to not understand that I'm doing the good thing, I'm doing what will keep everyone of you alive. It's so simple! Just hand him over and we will have nothing to worry about."
I stepped away from John. Just moments before my expression had been stolid, exhausted even, but now I felt incredibly sick. Sick to the stomach how someone we could trust, someone who Harry trusted could betray him so easily. I hadn't realised how far back I had walked until my foot hit the first step of the staircase. John's head snapped in my direction, eyes focused to my footing before meeting my gaze.
"You're choosing him over your own life... over your father's?" He whispered with disgust.
I shook my head. "No life values over another. The only selfish one here is you..." Slowly I was ascending the steps. "You're sick, John."
Immediately I turned to head up the remaining stairs but I couldn't move no further. Harry was perched on the step, legs raised to his chest as he cradled himself. I opened my mouth to say something but he only shook his head. His eyes seemed so distant, staring behind me at nothing. I dropped to my knees so we were level, raising my hands and placing them on either sides of his face, but he didn't react.
"Harry." I softly shook him to break him out of his trance. "Harry, please... please look at me," my breath choked once he slowly turned to look at me. "We need to go. Now."
He stared at me for such a long time. His cheeks were so cold against my somewhat warm palms. They were tinted a light red hue, but the rosy cheeks contrasted to his pale - almost sick stricken - face. Beads of perspiration trickled from his forehead down to the side of his jaw until they broke once they made contact with my skin. He lightly began to tremble in my hold, and the sight breaks me, knowing that as each day passes Harry is slowly beginning to deteriorate before our eyes.
"Please listen to me," I choked, raising my shoulder to wipe away the unwanted tear. "They're coming for you-"
"I heard," he rasped.
I nodded. "Then you know we have to go. Now."
"But what's the point?" His lip quivered as he raised his hands to mine, pulling them away from his face. "Everything John said was right."
"No, Harry!" I shouted. "No! You can't let them take you, they'll kill you!"
"So be it if it means nobody would be in danger anymore." He smiled weakly, using his thumb to wipe away the warm tears that streaked my cheeks. "If it will put an end to this then they can tear my limbs one-by-one for all I care. As long as you and the rest are safe, then it'll be all right."
"No," I cried. I grabbed a hold of his hand, tugging him with me as I stood but he wouldn't budge from his position on the step. More tears continued to fall as I pulled Harry's hand, but I wasn't even close to success. He looked to me and I couldn't help but drop to my knees in utter defeat and cry as he held me in his arms. "You're so stupid. So, so stupid."
"I'm on the bridge of insanity," he whispered, tightening his hold around me as I sobbed relentlessly. My shoulders quaked against his, and the constrict feeling in my chest was only allowing gasps to escape my lips. He grabbed ahold of my shaking hands and pressed them to his chest. "After all this you can go home, you can see your father, and pursue your career."
I shook my head. "You won't be there. How am I going to be able to live with myself if-if all I can think of is-"
"Shh," he mumbled. He pulled us apart so we were face to face. His eyes weld up with tears that never fell. His expression was one of pain, nothing physical but emotional. "You know that feeling when you're dreaming, and the same occurrence repeats itself over and over again? You wake up unsatisfied with how it ended and try to add your own conclusion... your own ending." I sniffled, not understanding what he was really saying but listened as he continued. "You try to control the outcome, and form some kind of resolution that'll just fix everything so you'll get that satisfying conclusion. That little thing to resolve all your problems, all your worries, to make you feel safe.
"But no matter how much you try to control it fate seems to have the advantage and wins in the end. You'll wake up, disappointed, but come a few days later you'll completely forget about it and begin another story. I've been trying to find an escape from this fucking nightmare for so long but I've come to realise that the resolution to my story was you, Cass. This nightmare..." He smiled painfully, "it's just a dream that I thought I would never wake up from. In the beginning I was destined to die, everything was just delayed up to this point. In the middle came my resolution." His hands squeezed mine again as I quietly sobbed. "But through complications, my beginning will be my end."
Nothing could hold me back from the whimpers and sobs that rattled my body, seeing Harry on the brink of defeat also defeated me. My beginning will be my end. His words echoed in my head, only bringing me to hold him tightly against me. The feel of his warmth didn't provide me any comfort right now as it usually would. I thought back to only hours ago where we had joked, laughed, and slept in each other's arms. The intimate moment we shared in the shower with one another, but most importantly all the moments we had with each other that led to this point.
"It's strange really... how we bonded over a chocolate cake."
I bit my lip and weakly smiled.
"Shitty vanilla," he mumbled.
"Shitty vanilla," I agreed.
He sighed and pressed his lips to my temple before retrieving an item from his pocket. Instantly I recognised it as the Opal necklace he had given to me as a gift. "I thought I left it-"
"I'm not only a wolf."
He held my shaking palm up, leaning forward to kiss it once, and replaced where his lips had been with the cold stone. It was a stunning blue, not quite as the ocean or the clear blue sky. The colour was clouded, ranging from different shades but all the same it was beautiful.
"The necklace is spiritually connected to me. It depicts my emotions, and mine only. It's a part of me, and... you can see how I'm feeling. I think you're familiar with what each tone symbolises. The stone resembles the exact colour of your eyes, if not something similar. When I'm feeling... blue I always feel so distant with myself, confused, lost even. But when I look into your eyes I feel a sense of comfort, but that similar lost feeling always sparks up." He breathlessly laughed and stared down the stairs.
One question bugged me. The curiosity of wanting to know the answer feared me, but what feared me was not knowing the real answer to it. "The connection... does it ever break?" I inhaled sharply at the nod of his head. "When?" I whimpered.
"When I'm dead."
And those were the last words he had spoken before an ear-splitting shatter was heard, the shrill screams sounded so distant as I stared at Harry in fear of knowing what was about to happen. They're here.