A/N: I know I haven't updated in forever, but I think I'm finally getting the hang of this story again. All of you inspire me to write, and I really want to update more frequently for you. Please, tell me your opinions about the story so far, and let me know what you'd like to see happen (I might even just include it!).
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Chapter Seven
• Isaac •
The world seems to tilt on its axel; the soundtrack to an apocalypse is the shrieking of rusty door hinges. Despite the fact that I’m extremely careful about making no sound― save for breathing― Derek’s hearing is sharper than my ability to sneak around.
“Where the hell have you been?” He resembles a worried parent, perfectly placed at the top of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest; then again, I’ve found that it’s hard to tell when a worried parent is being sincere.
I scramble for words, penetrated by a crimson stare and slow, laden footsteps. “We, uh, that body in the woods… Scott… I, um, felt they should know about what we found.”
He is silent for a minute, pacing absently; it’s eerie how much he can mirror Peter, lingering in a calm, dangerous quiet. The kind of calm after the birds stop chirping and right before a storm. “I told you to keep them out of this.”
“They have a right to know what’s going on. About the markings and the murders and the fact that the alpha pack could still be here.” My hands are clenched by my sides, my entire body screaming with tension.
Derek continues on as if I had never even spoken, his words lacking varied pitch. “I told you not to leave the house alone.”
“What are you― my dad?” A shudder courses through me involuntarily. “You can’t keep me trapped here. When you turned me, you promised me freedom. But lately, I don’t feel so free.”
“Dammit, Isaac!” He slams his hand down, the rail of the staircase splintering. A flicker of cold fear rises in me, a flash of knowing what’s going to happen next: a palm across my face, glass shattering. But Derek is not my father, and he composes himself before he speaks. “You can’t be free if you’re dead.”
That stops me cold, words frozen in my throat. “W-what are you talking about?”
He lets out a sigh, a shaky sound that sets me on edge. It makes Derek seem as though he’s lived through multiple lifetimes and experienced countless horrors. I used to think he wasn’t so much older than me, but now I’m not so sure. “Please just promise that you’ll listen to me from now on and stay in the house.” His voice is resigned.
And just like that, anger courses through me like a tidalwave― a tsunami that annihilates everything Derek has worked so hard to build. Alpha or not, he is not in control of me. My voice is fire, flames through gritted teeth. “You cannot tell me what to do.”
All of a sudden, his fangs snap out, eyes ominous. “You’re not listening!” he roars, white fury lacing his blood. “You think I’m keeping this house on lockdown because I want to? If you’ve learned anything, you should know that bad things always happen to people who don’t recognize that they’re in danger. Those claw marks― we’re being watched, Isaac. You need to stay safe, or else you’ll end up like Erica and Boyd.” He sounds defeated; this is a side of Derek I’ve never seen before. One that is clearly thinking I can’t lose anyone else. And I realize, with a shock, that something is really bad― Derek is afraid.
“What do you mean, end up like Erica and Boyd?” Innocence swarms around the room like a cloud, turning a house of smoke into a house of gold.
His gaze is tinted with sympathy, voice cold. “Erica and Boyd are dead.” He says it with such finality that it’s impossible to remain upright.
I collapse against the wall, fingers clawing at the decaying wallpaper. The words ring in my ears, pressing against my skull. Dead. Dead. Dead. Denial pours from my lips, firm disbelief. “No, they can’t be dead. Erica and Boyd are just missing. We went out to look for them yesterday.”
Derek shakes his head, mouth a straight line. “The alpha pack kidnapped them. If they killed Aubrey, what purpose would they have in keeping Erica and Boyd alive?”
Something about Derek is off; some bit of information is out of place in my head. “But why would the alpha pack take Erica and Boyd? And how could they?” The Hale house is a barricade, an iron skeleton. Only a seven-nation army could penetrate the framework.
When he doesn’t respond, I growl, “Derek, is there something you aren’t telling me?”
His gaze shifts over the ground, suspicious. “The alpha pack didn’t just go after Erica and Boyd because they’re sadistic and cruel. An unusual thing about alphas is that we can sense when the loyalties shift within a pack. When the alpha pack found Erica and Boyd, they were not part of a pack. They decided to leave, Isaac, and the alpha pack took them to warn us of how destructive they can be. Don’t you see? I underestimated them, but I WILL NOT let that happen again.”
Comprehension dawns on me, rage boiling in my veins. Derek is the reason that Erica and Boyd are gone― the reason that my friends are dead. Before I have a chance to bite down on my temper, words spill out. “So you think that sitting here and doing nothing is going to help? That it’s going to bring Erica and Boyd back? You think that cutting yourself off from the rest of the world is really going to make a difference?”
“Isaac,” he pleads, voice stained with bitterness. “Please― I’m only trying to keep you safe―”
I cut him off, ignoring his protests. “You’re not doing anything. Not a damn thing! You hide away and wait for your problems to magically be solved. You’re a coward. Do you hear me, Derek? You are a coward. What kind of a man are you?”
“Isaac, stop―” His tone is threatening, a crown of thorns surrounding a garden.
But I can’t stop. Even if I want to, I can’t. “You’re the reason that Erica and Boyd are dead! You killed your own pack― your own family. You murder everything that you touch!”
I don’t see it coming. There’s a snarl, a flash of red eyes, and then Derek scrapes his claws across my face. Pain washes through me and I crumple to the ground, blood gushing through my trembling fingers. All of my anger dissipates and is instead replaced by disbelief.
Immediately, his viciousness erases itself from his face, horror engraved in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry I’m―” He trails off, stunned, and all I can do is blink. Did that really just happen? Did Derek really just hit me? But when I look back, it’s not Derek’s face I see― it’s my father’s.
“Isaac, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to―” Derek apologizes, his voice weighed down by remorse; my father is not capable of any emotion save for sadism.
We stay there in silence, with me clutching my face until the wounds seal and the blood congeals. My words fail me, and Derek looks so broken, gazing at nothing. It’s so pathetic to watch that irrationality filters into me, threats hidden behind my teeth. My mind is a jumble of thoughts, but there is only one word that makes sense to me: LEAVE.
I come to this conclusion not because I’m being forced to stay in a charred frame of a house, or that ever since I became a werewolf everyone seems to want to kill me, or even because Derek mutilated my face. It’s because he looks so weak, so broken, and that is utterly pathetic. Derek is not a leader; he’s just a scared little boy who doesn’t know what to do next.
Trust me, I would know.
I pull away from the wall, determined. “Erica and Boyd left you for a reason. Have you ever wondered why that is?” A cruel smile twists itself onto my face, but I can’t seem to help it. I can see it― see the pain in Derek’s heart, my words a knife that jerks in his stomach. I’m floating above myself, hovering over my own body, watching myself tear apart something that was once decent. Watching myself rip apart the only family I’ve ever known.
Derek says nothing, so my words fill the void. “Maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s you.” I want to stop but I can’t but I want to. “Everybody always seems to leave you, Derek― your own family, your own pack. They just can’t stand you. You drive everyone away.”
I chuckle and he flinches, cowering, caught in a stupor. The Lahey family tree is only good for two things: inflicting pain on others and leaving. My brother, Cam, walked out the door and never came back. My father drove my mother away and she never looked back.
My heart sighs, almost too heavy to beat. I am a sinner and I am guilty and I am a broken shell of a boy. I am all of my father and none of my mother.
“You drove Erica and Boyd away.” I speak through gritted teeth. “Anyone who has supposedly ever loved you. But they never loved you enough to stay, did they?”
Moving towards the exit, and away from a confused alpha, I ask, “Can you tell where my loyalties lie?” And I refuse to look back as I slam the door.
• • •
I run until my legs can no longer carry me. Falling to the ground in a heap of heavy breathing and regret, I let out all of my pent-up frustration. What have I done? The question falls on a heavy mind, and my hands shake uncontrollably. Oh, God. What have I done?
My self-loathing is interrupted, however, by a scream that pierces through the fog in my brain. It rattles the very ground, so filled with anguish and fear that I stumble unceremoniously to my feet. Before I know it, I’m running again.
The earth rushes up towards me, my decision affecting my coordination. My thoughts swarm as I lean against a tree for support, swaying on my feet. The shrieks grow louder, violent and pitiful sobs. “Please,” I hear someone say, the voice harsh and distinctly feminine. “Please don’t do this, please―”
She’s cut off by another scream, guttural and ear-splitting. There’s a thick, wet sound that makes me cringe, and a whimper escapes the girl’s lips. Patching my head back together, I scramble through a clearing, dead leaves crunching beneath careless footfalls.
And there she is, covered in the blackness of the earth, her clothing in tatters. Dirt cakes her face, nails clawing halfheartedly at the ground. If it weren’t for the slowed movements, I would have thought she was dead. Her whole body is coated in blood, her body half-buried by soil. Her hair, tangled with the tree roots, is matted to her skull; her eyes dart crazily beneath closed eyelids. But despite her shallow breaths and grotesque appearance, I can’t help but marvel at her beauty.
Something in me shifts, and my heart beats a little faster.
A growl interrupts my thoughts, piercing through the haze of allurement. At the edge of my peripheral vision is a flash of scales, so fast I can’t make out anything else. The darkness surrounds me, pressing in; the night is impossibly black. The world shifts, blurring around me again, but I refuse to succumb. Before I even know what I’m doing, my claws are out and I feel white-hot intensity coursing through me. Derek always said action before thinking was dangerous, but Derek isn’t here.
There’s a high-pitched snarl to my left, the jarring sensation of something moving unbelievably fast behind me. All I can catch are glimpses of blackness and the snap of razor sharp teeth. The girl lying on the ground whimpers again, and my eyes dart over to her limp figure. Big mistake. The second I lose focus, a sharp pain emanates from my calf, causing me to double over. This time, when I search for the creature, I see the distinct outline of it― lithe and serpentine. Then, there’s another slash across my arm and I cry out, clutching at the wound to try to stop the blood flow.
“What are you?” I whisper, because I know it can hear me and I know this thing isn’t human or animal. It’s an abomination. The beast pauses, still bathed in shadow, and cocks its head to the side. It lingers for a moment, completely still, before rushing out into the moonlight.
As soon as I see it, there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s the kanima. Gerard. Except, at the same time, it looks entirely different from the kanima. This is a newer, sleeker version ―as black as the night, with elongated talons and blood covering its underbelly. That’s not the most terrifying part, though. This thing has wings.
Wings.
They spread from the arms to the tail, wispy and barbed. But there’s something… off. Something even more unusual than the new appearance. Its eyes resemble those of a human, conveying torture and suffering and a hint of recognition. Containing emotion.
And that’s what scares me the most.
I scurry backwards, desperately wishing for this to be nothing more than a bad dream. The kanima was supposed to be dead― not evolved and murdering people. The kanima creeps towards me, venom dripping from exposed fangs, and hisses. Now there is only hunger in its eyes, a deep desire for atonement, and I doubt whether I ever saw humanity in the thing at all. It lunges, and I cover my face with my arms. Skin shreds and I scream, blood bubbling up my throat. I cough up bile at the sight of mangled flesh and the kanima hisses as if it’s laughing, circling my trembling frame.
A cold, iron resolution rises in me, the deep-seated necessity for survival. I will not die today. Not here, not now. I pounce forward, my claws tearing at one of its threadlike wings. The wing tatters and the kanima shrieks, retreating back a few steps. It whips its head towards me, furious, and slices across my chest. It’s a sudden shock, like an airbag being deployed, that sends me reeling back against a tree. The kanima looks like it’s smiling and stares me dead in the eyes, threatening me. I prepare myself, wincing, ready to take another blow. But it doesn’t go after me.
It whips its head towards the girl, victory twisting its features. No, I think wildly. Oh no.
The kanima streaks towards the girl, laying there in defeat, whining helplessly. I bet she never expected to die like this: in the claws of a creature that flew straight out of Hell, wings of fire trailing behind it. She moans, clutching at her sides, the whisper of a plea scraping its way up her throat. “Help.”
My thoughts are ravenous in my brain, consuming every instinct of survival I possess. I can’t just watch some girl die.
And with a final, frantic last effort, I lunge at the beast. Better to go down fighting than to sacrifice an innocent girl. That’s what Scott would do. What I’ve tried to do.
What Derek would do.
I close my eyes as the claws rip me apart, the world burning in glorious red. There’s screaming, and somehow I know I’m the source, but I feel entirely detached from my body. Almost peaceful. Death is looming, a warm welcome beckoning me closer.
But then I’m slammed back into my body, the monotone earth surrounding me. Every part of me is throbbing, my pulse pounding against my skull like a sledgehammer, and I open my eyes to a blurry image of the kanima. It has stopped its violence, claws frozen mid-swing. Its head is cocked to the side… as if it’s listening for something.
Just then, there’s a sound in the distance― high-pitched and resounding, ringing in my head long after the noise has stopped. The kanima, its wings snapping out on either side of its body, screeches and bounds off in one fluid motion.
What the hell? Things in Beacon Hills have always been pretty unusual, but this is just downright strange.
My claws retract, exhaustion settling over me. I collapse in a heap near the girl, my breathing incredibly shallow. The crisp air swims around me, lulling me into a subconscious state. This time when I close my eyes, no thoughts lie in wait for my attention. Just a clean, blank slate. Completely quiet, and I let myself drown in the silence.