QUESTION FOR TODAY: Curly hair or straight hair?
He offered me a huge grin and stepped into the light. Upon seeing his face, I wasn't sure what to feel. I was confused, conflicted, upset- Harry said that his master wanted to marry me. Yet Uncle Tom, the man with whom I shared a blood relation, was stood before me. I shrank back and grimaced.
"But Harry said-"
"Everything Harry said was true, T." Uncle Tom explained. "You will be my bride, and together we will conquer every mated Lycän that has ever lived."
I leaned forward as far as the shackles would allow. "You sicken me."
"How nice." the manic grin scoped his entire face.
"Why would you want to kill only mated Lycäns? And why would you want your fucking niece to be your bride?" I asked, fighting nausea.
"You are as stupid as she was," he replied icily. "I want to kill mated Lycäns because they have everything I never had. How is that fair? Why should I suffer whilst they indulge in their precious little bond-"
"Master," Harry quickly intervened. "She asked why you wanted to take her as your bride."
Uncle Tom offered no verbal reply. Instead, he simply stalked towards me. I cringed backwards, narrowly avoided his calloused hands as they reached for me. He shook his head at my rebuttal and yanked me into his arms, effectively tearing the cuffs from their hinges. As much as his touch repulsed me, I had to play along. I was free- this was my opportunity.
Damien? Can you hear me? I tried to contact him again but I received no reply.
"I feel faint." I lied, staggering.
I was sure I was pale enough already to pull this feigned illness off. Uncle Tom's grip slackened slightly as he peered into my eyes.
"I'll get the Nurse." Harry said.
His retreating footsteps meant that my chance was drawing ever closer. Uncle Tom was double my size- even at my height- and consumed by fiery intent. I wasn't going to outfight him. My only option was to try and harness my powers.
"Are you feeling better, T?" Tom asked.
A sly grin graced my face. "I am now."
Fire scoped my arms, erupting from every pore. Tom's hands- which were currently resting on my wrists- were immediately scalded by the merciless flames. He screamed in agony and collapsed on the floor, incapacitated.
Now!
I didn't question the strange voice for a second. I darted out of the door and took to the stairs, paying no heed to the inquisitive stares that followed my every move. My eyes raked the hallway for a door, and upon finding none, I bolted through yet another winding corridor. My heart sunk to my stomach when I realised my only option was to hide in the basement of all places.
I wouldn't go down there.
The mysterious voice was back. I hesitated for a moment, conflicted. I didn't know who or what was talking to me, but I knew that this was a matter of life or death. To hesitate was to die.
"Fuck it." I swore.
I crept down the ladder and threw a glance over my shoulder. No one was following me- at least, not from what I could see- so my only option was to hide until a better idea came to me.
It was so dark that I didn't realise my feet had hit the floor. Dew ran the length of the dingy walls, and the floor was slick with blood. Dread settled in my stomach as I surveyed my surroundings. The corridor was dimly lit and led to a door that was strangely familiar. Rugged claw marks adorned the dark wood, which piqued my interest immediately. My steps were slow and cautious as I neared the end. My fingers rode across the sturdy material.
Just do it. I thought. (A/N: I expect comments on Shia LaBoeuf's monologue here. DON'T LEMME DOWN, READERS :P)
I pushed the door open. The scent of death was so potent that I gagged profusely. After regaining control of my body I raked my surroundings. The door folded into a room adorned by severed heads and mutilated limbs, though that was not what ensnared my attention.
In the centre of the room, surrounded by torn photos, were the bodies of my loved ones.
My mother was the first thing I saw. She was hung from the ceiling by a cord- her eyes were soulless, as if light hadn't graced them in an aeon. Then I noticed my father and James, whose throats were slashed, and finally Chrissy; her skin was as blue as it was when I first found her.
The grief I had long since buried took root once more. I released a guttural scream and sagged to the floor, too burdened with sadness to hold myself up. My parents were dead. My brother was dead. My best friend was dead.
And their soulless vessels were laying before me.
As my heaving sobs collapsed into hoarse rasps I began to think. My dead family was lying in the basement of my Uncle's stronghold, which of course raised my suspicions. Why the hell would my Uncle have the bodies of my English family?
Unless he killed them.
As much as I didn't want to admit it, the theory made sense. The only person who wasn't there to comfort me when I noticed Chrissy's body was my Uncle Tom. Everything slotted together, but one question still remained; why?
Another sob escaped my trembling lips and I covered my mouth with my hand. My gaze settled on the decaying bodies of my family and I cringed, fighting tears. I couldn't alert anyone to my presence. They would-
"I didn't want you to find out like this."
I wasn't sure how long he had been standing behind me, but he'd obviously been there awhile. I froze as my grief turned into anger and levelled him with a deathly gaze.
"You didn't want me to find out that you fucking killed my family?" I screamed.
"I wanted to tell you when I had gained your trust." he explained.
A cry of sheer agony ripped from my mouth. I hadn't expected him to admit what he had done with such ease and apathy. His blatant lack of empathy evoked a deep rooted anger and I clenched my fists, consumed by exigent hatred.
"You're a murderer!" I screamed viciously. "You will rot in fucking hell. And trust me when I say that I will be the one who sends you there."
"Let me explain." He sighed patiently, as if my harsh words didn't faze him.
I entertained his proposal and remained silent, muffling stray sobs.
"Carrie, your mother, was always a beautiful woman. We had been inseparable during childhood, though our lasting bond was lost to the lure of adolescence. She grew closer to my older brother- your father, Sam- and they eventually became star crossed lovers. They were disgustingly romantic. You never saw them apart.
When we turned 18, our mates were revealed to us. Since Sam's mate had committed suicide two years prior, he was effectively mateless and wanted to take Carrie as his. There was one problem- she was mine.
When Carrie found out, she was devastated. Torn. She could forsake her relationship with my brother or reject me- the choice played on her mind for weeks before she finally made her decision. She chose him. You and your sibling were their offspring.
I'd planned to kill you all form stealing my chance of happiness. But when I saw you- quite literally the embodiment of your mother's beauty- I saw opportunity. I would take you as my bride. Your family would have to die, yes- your former life would have to be erased from existence. Which led to Chrissy's death.
I instructed Alexis to leave the notes. I wanted you to fear your own abilities in the hope that you would run away from Damien and barrel into my arms. You didn't. You were unfaltering and wouldn't give up your damned mate. So I took action. And I took you from him."
"So you killed my family in cold blood." I chuckled humourlessly. "I can't wait to see Damien rip you to shreds."
"Not all of them." he continued before I could decipher what he meant. "Trust me, Thea Matthews. There is no chance that your mate would ever overpower me."
"He's an Alpha." I smirked through my tears. "He would destroy you within a second of seeing you."
Damien? Please reply.
"I'm more than an Alpha now. My power has reached its full potential, thanks to this."
Thea? Oh my god, is that you? I've been trying to reach you all fucking day and you haven't replied! Where are you?
A huge grin threatened to grace my features but I pursed my lips instead. I looked at the raised bottle of vodka and cocked an eyebrow. "Alcohol has made you stronger than an Alpha? No, Tom. It's made you crazier than a fucking walnut."
"It's not vodka. It never has been. It's the purest vampire blood I could find- salvaged straight from the veins of a High King. You're not the only hybrid around here." Tom grinned.
So that's what Harry meant. He's stronger than anyone else...
Except us.
I reached out to my mate once more. I don't know where I am. Uncle Tom is holding me hostage- he's the one who killed my family and left me those notes. He's injecting himself with vampire blood and- well, apparently I can shift.
"You're crazy." I deadpanned. "You became a verewolf? Of all things, you mix werewolf and vampire? You could've at least chose a mermaid- then you'd be a wermaid, which sounds awesome."
Thea, you shifting is impossible. You're a hybrid, yes, but hybrids can't—
Well it's not impossible for me, by the looks of it. We'll handle it later. I love you, Damien. Even if I'm supposed to be hating you right now.
I love you too.
"Don't mock me." Tom was beside me in a flash. "I'm much stronger than you now."
He isn't.
"No, you aren't. That's what my wolf tells me so that's what I believe." I smirked broadly.
"You're already communing with your wolf. Now this is unexpected. Your bond has taken root- all it will take is a small prod to send you into your first shift."
Dumbass. Now we're both screwed.
"What are you saying?" I asked warily.
He smirked maliciously. Before I could blink Tom had swung me into his arms and placed me atop of my father's body. I screamed and thrashed in my Uncle's hold, but his grip was like steel. My dad's body was stiff beneath me and I vomited, soiling both mine and Tom's shirts.
"Revolting." he grimaced.
I called upon my powers but nothing came about. No freak storms, no fire, no water- zilch. Zero. Nada.
In other words, I was screwed.
I closed my eyes and allowed the tears to run down my cheeks. I was faintly aware of a sharp pain in my arm, but I paid it no heed. I was too grief stricken to do anything but cry.
"Here we go." Tom laughed.
Moments later, my body was wracked by a wave of unbearable pain. I could feel my bones shifting out of place, grinding as they elongated and retracted. My eyes flew open and my heady gaze settled on my hand- as time waned on, the bones visibly popped and dislocated until claws formed. Hair sprouted from every orifice and I screamed, losing myself to the pain of the transition. It wasn't long before my scream turned to a howl and I was laid on all fours.
It took me a while to regain my sense of balance. This new form was perturbing and quite frankly terrifying. I stood on shaky legs and growled at Tom, who was watching me with fascination.
"How odd." he mused aloud. "You're as red as your mother's blood."
I lunged.