My palms were sweating so much I thought I might end up with a puddle beneath me. I could feel the thin line of sweat puddling on my forehead. My lips felt numb; I was almost positive they were blue by now.
"Uncle Ma-Mason," I breathed out, my pulse feeling severely low.
My head laid in his lap. I could feel his hand stroking my hair; I needed a helping hand along the way.
"What—" I paused. "What was that thing?"
My uncle froze. He must of had hopes of me forgetting the whole thing. But, as of now, I could not get the burning, terrifying feelings that ran throughout my body. The smell of her still lingered in my nose.
It was as if she deadened my senses to anything that did not revolve around her.
"You'll heal. I promise," my uncle nervously answered.
"Your heart skipped," I pointed out. "You're lying."
"I'm hoping," he corrected.
"I'm dying," I coughed, turning my head to the side.
"You need to stay quiet. Your brother is in the next room over," Mason nudged me in the side. "And you're not dying. You can't."
My eyes drew heavy for once in the past few weeks. The death of my father made me grow cold against other emotions; it was the first time I had ever wanted sleep.
☾
My forehead felt like a sheet that was just protecting my brain from popping out of my skull. The feeling that pooled from deep within me seemed to have disappeared and was replaced with a feeling of pure pain and confusion.
I looked beside me, my phone glaring at me. There was almost a hundred messages from people at the carnival. Most of them were saying how wiped I was seeing my uncle hoist me over his shoulder and put me in the backseat of his truck. It was almost five o'clock in the afternoon and I felt overly hungover.
"You're awake," Tyler grinned beside my bed. "Finally. You've been asleep for like a day. It's been two days since the carnival. Uncle Mason got me to take your car home"
"Ow," I rubbed my temples, leaning back against the wall just next to my bed.
"I'll go get you some water," Tyler grinned, playfully tumbling down the hall.
It took me a minute to even get a thought process going long enough to figure out what exactly went on. My brain wracked with the numerous possibilities that went on at the time. I could feel the power pulsating through my fingertips going all the way to my skull which felt like it was about to pop.
"Hey," my uncle came in and sat down next to me. "You want to talk about it?"
I paused, my brain trying to figure out a way to even process what exactly was going on. There was absolutely no logical explanation for what was going on with me.
"What the hell is happening to me?" I panted, shutting my eyes closed even further.
"You and your brother aren't twins," my uncle started out.
To say I was dumbfounded was the least bit of information.
"You're father was the father to the both of you. But, your mother and father had a fight a month before your birth mother fell pregnant. Your father cheated during the time they were on a break but your mother and birth mother both realized they were pregnant at the same time within a week apart."
It made somewhat of sense. Whatever he was saying was something that proved what the hell was happening to me.
"Your birth mother was a witch from a powerful coven. She has a wonderful family; your eldest sister is a doctor and there's a set of twins just a year below you," my uncle grasped my hand. "I met them briefly when your father found out she was pregnant. He wanted me to watch over her while he went to see your mother."
"A witch?" I questioned.
"They are a rather large coven in the Oregon region. Your father went on a business trip to that area shortly after the fight with your mother," my uncle paused and looked down at his hands as if they had been soaked in dirt and covered in the blood from his failures.
My uncle seemed to be a disturbed man from all these distractions and secrets; he was just a simple guy, young and shackled by the burdens that fell upon his shoulders. It was understanding at the most that it offered somewhat of an explanation to what happened last night. I only hoped that the pain would subside soon enough and end as quick as this magic in my veins appeared.
"That's it?" I scoffed. "I'm a freaking witch?"
My uncle nervously shook his leg, avoiding eye contact with me. I could tell that deep within he was hiding something deeper and deeper within the depths of his mind.
"There's one more thing..." Mason trailed.
He took a deep breath, shaking off the invisible grief of sadness on his shoulder.
"What is it?" I nudged his shoulder playfully.
Mason turned to look at the bullet that was being pulverized by his teeth: me. His breath was sharp and jagged, uneven as he paused for one final time.
"You know how I always joked about the 'Lockwood Family Curse'?" Mason questioned as I nodded along. "It's true; there is a curse that is deep rooted into this family that runs within the bloods. It's a devastation to us; to you now more than ever."
"What do you mean?" I furrowed my eyebrows together, knitting them like a needle and thread to a ball of yarn.
"You're a werewolf, Abby," Mason spat vigorously. "And the full moon's tonight."
I froze.
How could this be? I was just some girl who lost her dad in a freak accident. But now, now, I was the girl who was the freak. I was Tyler Lockwood's sister, Abby Lockwood, who was always the one to be a spitfire, the girl who cheered alongside the football team, I was the one who everyone knew; I was the fiery, red head who didn't give a damn about what anyone said about her.
But now, I was the freak with mystical powers.
"I don't believe you," the words floated out of my mouth with passion, my teeth gritted.
I could feel my eyebrow knit just above my nose. My teeth bared themselves in a hateful scowl. My uncle seemed take aback by my demeanor and sighed. He could see the confusion dazed in my eyes and the repulsive look etched into my face.
"The moon will rise in three hours, and reach its peak in five. I'll be back for you in two hours to bring you somewhere. Don't do anything stupid," Mason sneered, turning his back on me and storming out the door.
☾
It was almost seven o'clock when Mason came back. I was sitting on my laptop in my bed watching some Netflix show I came upon a few weeks back. The sun was beginning to set in the heat of Virginia. Winter was coming fast and I wanted to stay in this moment forever.
"You ready?" Mason quietly asked as he stood with his arms folded in the doorway.
I was wearing a pair of black running shoes on my feet with some novelty shirt that my dad got me from a business trip. Mason was wearing a pair of beige cargo pants and a plain shirt. He was always the one to spice up his outfits.
"For me to turn into an imaginary wolf, sure," I shrugged, shutting the screen to my laptop.
Mason and I walked out to his truck. There was a large, forest green duffle bag in the backseat of the truck. He looked back at the bag and grinned. His actions seemed to push me a little more in the direction of how real this might be.
Mason pulled into a clearing about ten minutes away. It was just a five minute walk to the old Lockwood property. I had a feeling he was taking me to where the only place left was the old slave cellar; my allegations proved me correct when I saw him dump the bag down the stairs and follow it down.
"You know this place?" Mason asked.
"Yeah," I responded. "It's the old Lockwood plantation. Got burned in a fire that almost wiped out the town. This is where they used to keep the slaves."
My uncle nodded and grabbed the bag. There were four rings of silver coming out of the rocky walls. He clicked a row of chains, then a nylon material to them before laying the four cuffs on the floor.
Enough for each limb.
He then took a water bottle filled with this purple and yellow material out and handed it to me. It honestly looked like lake water mixed in with dirt.
"Come here," Mason gestured to the center of the room.
He grabbed me by me wrist and cuffed one of the cuffs around it. The pain that came with the cuff made me scream and howl in pain. While I was too busy distracted by the pain in my right wrist, Mason cuffed on the left one. I dropped to my knees, blood dripping from the wounds forming on the wrists. If I didn't know it, I would have though that my uncle was torturing me for information and these cuffs were branding me.
He managed to slip on the cuffs that latched onto my ankles. Blood soaked the floor around me.
"Hey!" Mason shouted, grabbing me by my jaw and covering my mouth and screams. "Abby!"
I bit into his hand, blood pouring into my mouth. I choked, spewing his blood all over the floor.
"Abby you need to listen to me before it gets too late," Mason urged, pulling my wrist by the cuff so the burning sensation dug deeper.
I got my attention rather quickly.
"Abby, I'm placing a clock on this wall," Mason pointed, placing a small, digital clock on one of the juts in the wall. "Once it hits ten, the pain will intensify to the highest extent and I will have to leave you. Both of us need to drink this water bottle in the time being. You're going to feel pain that slowly grows, but you're just going to have to deal with it."
I nodded. The pain subsided in my wrists for a little while, my back pressed against the rocky walls. Mason sat on the floor just out of my reach, the water bottle in his hands.
"You need to drink this first," he motioned to the water that was rolling over to me. "It's going to burn like a bitch, but it's going to help."
I smirked, turning my head to face him.
"You act like I've never drank hard liquor before," I rolled my eyes before opening the bottle and taking a rather large gulp.
Mason stood up quickly before I had time to spit it out, forcing the water down my throat. I could feel the layers of my throat stripping down and blood pouring into my stomach. Mason snatched the water from my mouth and then sipped slowly on the rest.
I was doubled over, blood leaking from my mouth. It felt like I had just swallowed a batch of hydrochloric acid and it was slowly ripping me apart.
"Wolfsbane, if you're asking. It'll help weaken you before the full moon," Mason jutted in, squeezing his eyes shut while he took another gulp. "Again."
He gave me the liberty this time of choosing how fast I drank the water. This time, however, the pain seemed to get stronger and stronger. My muscles ached with a feverish passion and my head felt like it was going to explode. I placed the water back down before spewing and coughing up blood. By now I was doused in my own.
I could feel a pang shooting up my leg. It was time. The clock in front of me only read that it was ten minutes past eight. The moon had only just risen. My muscles were tensing rather tight as each second passed. Time stood still for some time, the pain growing.
"You feel it," Mason declared. "You're starting to realize that this is real, Abby."
I groaned, falling to my stomach on the floor. Dirt smudged onto my face, the scent of dried blood caking my hair.
"You just need to stay strong," Mason urged. "You have a lot more to go."
I hissed, my left leg seizing up. It was only a matter of time.
Once Mason saw my leg shake and quiver, he sighed.
"I'm sorry, Abby, but I have to go," Mason looked down at his feet and then back at me.
"Why?" I could barely ask as my words became more and more painful to utter.
"Because we can't be in the same room. It's too dangerous. Not when either of us have a leader. If there's no leader, we will just fight for dominance. I'm sorry Abby, but you're just going to have to make it through this on your own," Mason sighed before taking the duffle bag in his left hand and opening the cast iron door with his right. "I'll come get you in the morning."
As soon as the door closed and thundered throughout the small room, I realized how evidently lonely and terrifying the rest of this experience would be.