Song: Monsters by Ruelle
I decide to drive to the Bayou. Kaitlyn wasn't part of the rouge wolves here that were left of the Crescents. But my best guess, and Lance's, was this was her next stop. Zetrov was slowly taking over New Orleans. That witch Valerie was not the first and most certainly not the last.
A group of alpha-less wolves would be looking for a better life. One that Zetrov is no doubt ready to offer. These particular wolves best the others. They can control their forms, true werewolves.
So I need to get to them first.
I shut the door to my car, which was off onto the shoulder of the road. The car was actually Bastian's, but he needed to loose a few pounds so I stole his keys. I've more ground to cover anyway.
My feet hit the soft ground of dirt. The moon was high, and the crisp air whipped through my hair to the point I was annoyed. Except the darkness around me did hide my unruly curls. I embrace the mad mess of fire on my head, running my fingers through my long locks and making them even fluffier.
I lick my dry lips, my tongue tasting the fresh air, though only a few miles away, it already seemed freer from pollution. Perhaps it was the trees surrounding me, or the swampy smell that clung to my clothes as I walked deeper into the Bayou, towards the river.
It was a loud night. The sound of owls and critters scurrying about and calling for prey seemed to fill the air with life itself. Giving it a heartbeat, a life source and there was something beautiful in the night that I took a fleeting moment to admire. Because this was the Calm before the Storm.
I'm deep in the Bayou when other larger movements in the trees catch my attention. I could feel several curious pairs of eyes on me. I tilt my head back, knowing if I pissed off what was rest of the pack there was a slim chance Klaus would jump to heal me.
Despite the fact we shared one not-to-be-spoken-of night together.
Not that I cared. I don't waste emotions on things like regret. Really, it happened, and now it was done. Sure, I never expected that 24 hours later I'd be trudging through the mud that which paw prints were pressed into.
I was in enemy territory. Yet, I couldn't die from a wolf bite now. And the only weapon that can kill me I already tucked away into the safest place I know. That gave me the courage to face the trees, and make my voice heard. "The Crescents were once considered royalty." I begin, sweeping my gaze around the dark trees that seemed vacant of any living thing. I knew better.
"Now, I know what happened to your Alpha, Jackson." I purse my lips, daring myself to go on as a low growl is heard and then silenced again. "Trust me when I say I'm not a stranger to the violence Tristen De Martel brings. And then, when you needed her most, Hayley abandoned you." I shake my head, chuckling slightly at myself. "The once high and mighty Crescent Pack fell to being victims by Marcellus. The boy who made himself into his father's image." My voice rises, the Scottish Melody floating through the air like a lullaby. "Then, their own Queen stepped down. No one is on your side. And even now, as I speak out, a group of Supernatural, calling themselves Zetrov, plan on buying your loyalty like they buy everyone's." I snarl with the thought.
"I'm not here to make a deal, or offer you money. Power." I can hear the rustling from several lean bodies move closer, just out of sight. "I want to restore your pack. Your chair in New Orleans." There's a short howl.
Then someone steps from the trees, a tall, burly man. Shirtless with dirt on his hands. A pair of shorts the only clothing he had. "We've heard of you. The ruler of The League. You came here before, killed the vampires who hunted us." His voice was scratchy, like he hadn't used it in a very long time. "You're a friend of Hayley's."
"Friend is a strong word." I reply, but nod agreeing with him.
"We won't be apart of any group who tries to use us as mercenaries." He replies, and though his jaw was set I know his appearance was enough to tell me I had already won him over. "Not you. Not whatever group you said."
"You wouldn't be a part of The League." I reply in a manipulative manner. "And you wouldn't be mercenaries. You'd be equals." I did make friends easily when I wanted to, and this was one of those times. "I don't need Zetrov getting their claws into the most powerful wolves here. I'd rather befriend them and start a war with Marcellus than let them buy you."
"We would never be bought." He steps forward, barefoot. He had a short beard and I recognized his age. The wrinkles on his forehead, his eyes. I incline my head respectfully to him.
"I know you feel that way, but I doubt all your pack mates do as well." I reply calmly. He narrowed his old eyes at me, watching me catiously. His beard and hair was mostly grey, though he was still strong for his age.
"What do you know about lycanthropes?" He asked, in a disbelieving manner, calling my bluff.
"I've been around almost as long as the Mikaelsons." I relax my shoulders. "I've had centuries to learn about your kind. I might know more about it than you do. And a pack without a leader, well... It's no pack at all." My voice was firm, definite. The man nodded slowly, then walked forward to me, holding out his hand. I take it. "My family has money, and first thing tomorrow, this Bayou will be restored. The cabins scattered throughout will be fixed to suitable living conditions. Once New Orleans becomes a home to you as well, whoever wishes to move into the city will be welcomed."
"You seem confident." He comments.
"I'll admit, hubris is one of my most memorable characteristics." I let my hand drop to my side. "I have as much respect for your community as the witches, and I look forward to working beside you."
---
I sit around the bonfire, listening to the stories of the elders, of the wolves. Many didn't welcome me with open arms, but it's been a long time since they came together to swap stories. There were few, but more came as the night drew on. I met everyone, even the ones who hated vampires.
Robbie, the first man who I'd meet with, had explained their customs, the way most of the pack scattered but the few of them remained, hoping Hayley would return.
The night hit it's Apex. The half moon stretched over the sky. It'd be only a couple days until Halloween. Until Samhain.
That's when we got a visitor. A woman, who was drawn by the fire and we all stood up at her unexpected arrival. She was a wolf, I could tell.
Robbie stood up and spoke first to her. "Who are you?" His voice was hostile. There were children and elders here, it wasn't a place in impose so suddenly.
"My name is Kaitlyn. I'd hoped to interest you in an offer." The woman says. I smile slightly. She hadn't seen me yet. I move to the other side of the bonfire, and her eyes flick to mine. The calm look on her face vanishes instantly. "Merida."
"Great. You've heard of me." I crack my knuckles, looking at Robbie, but he was watching Kaitlyn like a hawk. The firelight bounced off the fire and illuminated her face, her hair. Her eyes. "Let's have a chat."
In a few minutes I've grabbed her by the shoulders, and slammed her into the hood of Sebastian's car. It broke her nose with the force. "It doesn't matter what you do, I won't betray Zetrov."
"Good. They didn't change their name from a hundred years ago." That answered one question, though she didn't realize it. "At least Russians remain constant. Like The Strix. Except their more dangerous than you pathetic lot. Tell me, who is your leader?" I ask her, digging my fingers into the pressure points on her neck. She gasps out, and I tilt my head. "What was that?"
"Go to hell." She spits, and I make a face of disgust as her saliva sprays onto my face. Her Russian accent made this all the more fun for me.
"Already been, darling." I wipe it off my face with my free hand, grimacing. "It didn't agree with me." I grab her by her beach blond hair, throwing her off the car and into the street pavement. At once I see others, supposedly members of Zetrov, come forth. There were a dozen, maybe two. "Huh." I look down at Kaitlyn, who was spitting blood and grit from her mouth. "I suppose I should be flattered."
"You really like the sound of your own voice." The wolf girl sneers, getting to her feet. I smile at her, tilting my head.
"There was this chick, April, was it?" I pause, watching as Kaitlyn grows more murderous. Her eyes glowing yellow. "She tried killing me." I recall the wound on my shoulder that I still bore from the fight, knowing that after this night I'd once again, have to restitch it. "It didn't end well for her, but please, don't let that stop you." I crack my neck from side to side, and found Glee in the flash of fear I see in the Barbie wolf's eyes.
Then they descend upon me.
I duck, Kaitlyn's fist flying over my head, and I swing my leg out lightning fast, kicking her shins so hard that she falls, flat onto her back. The breath leaving her lungs. I didn't have time to dally, because I'm toppled over shortly after.
I reach up roughly, the flat off my palm missing the were wolf's chin, but catching his upper teeth. Wolf venom immediately makes my veins turn to fire, but the adrenaline almost masked it completely. I grab his bottom jaw with my other hand, still sucking air into my lungs after the impact with the pavement, and pull the jaws apart until I hear them dislocate. Then I proceed to tear the upper part of his head from his body.
I rise to my feet, and time slows as Kaitlyn's army comes rushing at me. The whites of my eyes turn red, and the veins beneath them seem to slither beneath the skin, and I bare my fangs, grabbing the closest wolf with my hand, which throbbed with the fang punctures. "You lot must be coming to avenge the ones who attacked my brother." I smile, then snap the wolf's neck, letting the body drop just in time to step back from the next ones leap at me.
It's nails were claws, and the girl was half wolf, her eyes yellow. Her face twisting in a growl that looked more dog than human. "Your brother killed mine." She says to me, and rakes her claws down my face. I feel red hot blood run down my face from the marks, which heal themselves.
"Then it's only fitting I kill you." I reply, and the half-transformed werewolf leaps again at me. I saw it coming and jump out of the way, right into a wolf, and in a fluid motion I swing my leg around, taking the head off the wolf and then returning to the bitch. Female dog. There's never been a more perfect situation to use that word.
Wicked fast, the girl doesn't give me time to turn completely around, and flings her foot up with such speed and strength I stagger slightly as it Rams into my ribs. Which I swear I hear crack. I grab her foot, and bring my arm down so hard that it breaks her kneecap. The tendons in the back of her knee give a sickening rip. The bones just out, ripping the skin of her leg. I push her off as she cries out in pain, and I couldn't imagine Zetrov prepared her for this.
Blood soaks her jeans, and she lay on the road, screaming in agony.
I didn't waste a second, because she and Kaitlyn was the leats of my problems. There's a sharp, painful grasp on to my arm, right above the Mark Of Cain. It was bitten and the man who did it wasn't letting go. I gripped his hair with my other hand and struggled but snapped his neck all the same.
I turn towards the rest of the crew, maybe half of them left. I smile, my fangs glistening and the splatters of my own blood and my enemies on my face reflected the light of the moon. My eyes were alight with the action, the excitement coursing through me as the rest of them shared nervous glances. I revelled in it. "Who's next? I haven't got all night."
And the rest of them charge.
At once I'm once again locked in battle. I'm tearing off an arm, then my fangs sink into the half-transformed neck of the Zetrov Agent, which gasps as I do. I pull my lips away, pushing him, face first, into the pavement. I lick my lips, but it did little to clean the thick, dark blood that dripped from my lips, my teeth, my chin.
I was covered in it, and quite frankly, I never felt more alive than when I was. Kicking a flailing, the wolves were trained but I tore them apart. They tore at me. Never slowing me down, even as they tore hearts from my chest like dominoes. It grew back, healing like a broken hand.
My hair grew damp with blood and grit. I was unscathed, except the several wolf bites I obtained during their little suicide mission. Even these, I'd heal from eventually.
Once they were all knocked out, dead, or writhing in pain in the street, is when I pulled Kaitlyn off the ground. Like peeling roadkill off a slab of cement. Then grabbed her by the throat and raised her up until her feet left the ground. She looked down at me in fear, gripping at my hand which held her airways.
"Feel that?" I ask, tilting my head at her questioningly. "The air slowly leaving you. It's like drowning, only on dry land." I think a moment, glancing at the Mark of Cain on my arm. "Actually, being suffocated is alot like starving as a vampire. Desiccating slowly and feeling your veins dry up. Rub against eachother like sandpaper." I could taste the Stark iron liquid on my tongue, and I knew my eyes were still gleaming. The whites were still red. My fangs touched my bottom lip as I spoke like a gentle caress.
Blood was thick in the air. It was strong and would make any human cringe and run. Bodies, both alive, and dead, lay around me. I meet the gaze of Kaitlyn, repositioning my hand, but still holding her off the ground.
"Now, who is your leader?" I ask, smiling a most innocently guilty smile. One which had no effect as my entire face was splattered with blood. Not to mention the nasty bite I had at my hair line. My own blood streaked down from that one.
"You'll have to kill me." Kaitlyn gasps out, still clutching my hand, her fangs digging into my flesh.
"All in due time." I nod. "Have you ever seen a clipped Achilles tendon?" My question resulted in more frantic struggling. "I had a mentor once, who believed that 'the ability to endure pain is a warrior's greatest weapon'. Sure, he was a lunatic. He dedicated his life to killing his entire family." I add nonchalantly, and Kaitlyn actually looked terrified now. She was whimpering, clawing at my arm desperately, though I ignored her. "So he clipped my Achilles. The pain was so intense and so strong. See, your tendons connect your muscle to your bone. And when your Achilles is severed, your muscle tears from the bone like... Well, you get the picture, don't you?" I ask, batting my eyelashes. "It makes such a pleasant snapping sound when it's done. A clipped Achilles takes weeks to heal for a vampire, even as old as me."
"I don't know anything." Kaitlyn began to sob. Her tears swell in her eyes. Weakling.
"Pathetic." I mutter. "But I don't buy it." I tight my grip on her throat and then slam her into the street, hearing her spine splinter and the back of her skull crack. I pull the pocket knife from my pocket, setting my foot on her chest. Then snap the knife open and closed. "You better start talking. These aren't snippers but I'm sure if I do it fast enough the tendon will still tear through." I look down at her, seeing the blood seep from her mouth and she was struggling to breathe.
"Simon." Kaitlyn's last breath racks her body. I take my foot off her, looking at the bodies and then slipping my knife into my pocket.
My coat was ruined. Well, Cecilia's coat. Looks like I'd need a new one.
"Simon." I hum. "How peculiarly coincidental."
Length: 2940 words