Edited.
One of the policemen rounded the corner, his hand already itching at the gun strung on his belt. Ignoring him, I burst forward, slipping on the smooth tiles to veer towards whatever exit I could find.
My only instinct was to escape. Forget subtle, stay alive.
The brown haired policeman stepped forward, blocking my desperate run. He reached out a firm hand to grab my shoulder in an attempt to still my actions. There was a moment when I thought about biting him but then I thought better of it and instead wrenched away from his touch simply by shoving him forwards. He stumbled with an angered grunt just as I spun wildly around to pin point my mother. I may not love her, but I didn't want to see a bullet through her head.
The policeman reached for me again, his expression angles of confusion, urgency and anger. "Miss Argent, what is—"
I caught Mum's brown hair from afar, her gaze vacant and staring off into the distance. She hadn't heard my outburst.
"Mum!" I yelled, causing everyone in the hall to glance up. "Go now, you need to run!"
She glanced up from her spot, blinking at me with a dazed expression. Footsteps surged around me as people began to arouse from my sudden exclamation.
I neared her, bending down to reef at her hands in her lap. She resisted me and pulled her lips into a snarl. "What is wrong with you?"
I stared into her drunken gaze, hoping more than anything she could see the importance behind my words. "We have to go; he has a gun. He's going to—"
Mum suddenly blinked into attention. "Who has a gun?"
"Sheriff Pincel," I gasped, purposefully ignoring the policeman appear at my side with his colleague following shortly behind him. "He has a gun and he pointed it at me and threatened to kill me." My words were a mess, jumbling to come out in heaves.
Just as I reached to tug my mother again I was yanked backwards by strong arms. I let out a shrill scream, trying to escape from their hardy grip.
"Miss Argent, I need you to calm down." I heard the attack say against my ear. It wasn't his voice. It wasn't his venomous breath. It wasn't him.
"Let go of me!" I hissed, struggling to remove myself from the policeman. "You no right to touch me."
I managed to swing myself around in his arms to see Mum staring at me, her face tight. She glanced at the policeman but said nothing to him. Nearly screaming in frustration and fear, I lunged at the policeman's arm around my shoulder and bit him. Hard.
He instantly let go, swearing colourfully. His colleague reached his side, looking down at his friend's hand. "What happened?" he asked.
I spat out his blood and eyed the guy who had held me. He turned to give me a snarl. "She bit me."
"You violated my privacy," I snapped back. The curly haired policeman placed his hand on his friend's shoulder then glanced at me.
"Forget about that, what's going on here?"
I took in the circle of policemen, watching their tensely suspicious faces. "We need to leave. Pincel has weapon, he held me at gun point," I turned to Mum. "He'll do something to you, we have to—"
The policeman who had emerged beside the guy I bit took a step forward. "Miss Argent, if you don't mind me interrupting, I have to ask where Sheriff Pincel is." He glanced to his colleagues. "If he was attacking you as you say, why isn't he here?"
Shocked by the simplicity of this question I paused. "He's inside the room." I stared at the officer's badge, memorising his name. 'Lachlan Grove.' Lach – Officer Grove observed me with one raised eyebrow, sharing the same expression as the rest of the surrounding policemen.
I stared at him. He was too young, too juvenile. He looked barely above my age. Even now, his cheeks were still rounded with youth.
A freckled face cop with his top button undone stepped forward. "Miss, I think you're in shock. If he truly was threatening you with a gun, he would've made it known," the man said, turning to see the rest of the men nod.
My mother stepped forward, slightly wobbly. "Renee, you're delusion—"
A flood of anger surged through me. All these people, these men and my own mother didn't believe me. They thought I would tell lies with the flick of my tongue for the sake of its entertaining. They were wrong. They. Were. Wrong.
I grinded my teeth together. "Do not question me," I said. "Listen to what I have to say, that's the law isn't it?" I glared at Officer Grove. "I have every right to speak my mind."
Officer Grove blinked and narrowed his eyes.
"Once everyone left the room, I mentioned the murders of the children. I learnt who the suppler was for the bullets, it was—"
"Miss Argent," Officer Grove interrupted. "I have to stop you there. As part of the press conference, we have to ask you why you mentioned the murders. Was this part of your questioning?"
I clenched my palms together, ignoring the sensation of my fingernails digging into them as I attempted to control my anger. We had to get out of here. We had to move. Every second that ticked by gave Pincel more time to round the door frame and kill me. Or even worse, kill my mother.
"That's confidential information, but the point is I found out that he was the one supplying the poisoned bullets to whoever is shooting the—" I paused suddenly, my mind coming to a complete stand still. I couldn't tell them about the wolves. I couldn't let them discover my wolf, among the many others. I couldn't let them be killed. I had to lie. Lie, lie, lie.
But the wolves were already dying. Those poisoned bullets that Sheriff Pincel was supplying was slaughtering both the wolves and the children. The bullets' silver casing would be embedded in more kids skulls tonight; I was sure of it.
It was one or the other. I could either keep Sheriff Pincel's secret and let him continue to supply the poisoned bullets, or I could stop lying, stop protecting, tell the truth about his second job and risk the wolves being hunted.
Either way, death followed.
Just as I opened my mouth to reply, Sheriff Pincel rounded the corner. He looked completely unfazed as he edged forwards. His hair was patted down smoothly, his eyes no longer frenzied with anger and his lips were tilted into a sly smile. The fingernail prints I had given him had simply faded to nothing against his scar.
Instinctively, I grabbed at my mother's arm, whispering, "we need to go."
She only blinked at me, like a cat. Blank and lifeless and useless.
Sheriff Pincel stopped a few feet away from me, next to where the Officer I bit who was now inspecting his hand. "Renee, are you okay? It seems as though I gave you a bit of a scare," he said calmly. Beside him, Officer Grove remained completely unaware he was standing next to a man who'd just aimed a gun at my head.
I ignored Pincel, refusing to meet his gaze. I tugged at my mothers arm again. "Mum, we need to go," I repeated.
"Stop," Mum hissed.
I stopped pulling to give her a shocked look. "Mum, he tried to kill me." My words were too high, too desperate. Too scared.
Officer Grove spoke up. "Miss Argent, I have to add that this is Sheriff Pincel you are talking about. A highly respected Sheriff for countless years at Brookefield. He would never pull a gun towards anyone, let alone a child."
"How would you know?" I spun back to Officer Grove, fury driving my words. "Were you in the room with us? No. Believe me when I say—"
"My apologies Miss Argent. I know inquiries like these are very stressful and I understand why you would break under the stress," Sheriff Pincel interjected.
I froze, biting my tongue. I slowly turned to face him, meeting his brown, concealed eyes. I knew his face well enough to draw him without a stimulus. I could perfect the malicious glint in his eye, the hidden crevices in his face that only surfaced when he grinned, the tiny, half-moons on his scar. I had seen enough of him in the last ten minutes to know if he got another chance, he wouldn't hesitate before pressing the trigger.
I felt my eyes narrow. "Don't pretend like you didn't just try to murder me," I lashed. I forced down the fear, the terror his gaze gave me. I forced it down to take a step towards him, to disengage the animalistic instinct in me to turn and flee. "I know what you did, I know what you're planning on doing, and I know you're behind it." Another step. Another few centimetres closer. "I know what you are Sheriff Pincel," I levelled my gaze with his, identifying the sheen of sweat across his face. "Your secret lies with me."
His mouth twisted into an ugly snarl that only I could see, but within an instant it had vanished behind his façade of false innocence.
"With all due respect Miss Argent, I think you may have been mistaken. I never pulled a gun towards you, or had any intention to," he said confidently, his beady eyes never leaving mine. "Regarding your accusations stating we consolidated in the murders of the children, I would like to add that we simply did not, and I merely asked you questions regarding your own case."
I was fuming. I could taste the pinch of blood on the tip of my tongue. I could taste the truth but no one was willing to listen. I sucked in a huge breath. "Stop lying, you pulled that gun on me. You admitted your plans to me because you thought I would die before I told anybody."
There was silence before Sheriff Pincel blinked innocently. "And what plans are you talking about exactly?"
I opened my mouth to reply before closing it again. Now was my chance to tell the truth. Now was my chance to show everyone what a monster he truly was.
Sheriff Pincel rose an arched eyebrow. "But if any of you aren't satisfied enough, you may listen to our recordings of the conference."
My lips tightened. There was no such thing. He had shot a bullet through it. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Officer Grove shook his head next to him. "That won't be necessary Sheriff." He turned his gaze to me, giving me a look of almost pity. "I think this young lady is a bit misled. She's tired, sick and exhausted." He held up a hand to silence me before I could utter a retort. "I think its best if she goes back to her room to get some rest." He then looked at Sheriff Pincel for approval. "Don't you agree?"
Sheriff Pincel made the effort to flash me a grin before he continued. "Yes I couldn't agree more Officer Grove." His eyes travelled down me, focusing on my throbbing pulse at the base of my jawline. "Young girls your age have a tendency to exaggerate their encounters. It's something the police force experience all the time."
I would've hit him. I could've hit him. If he was weaponless I would've. I wished more than anything I could feel my knuckles crack against the ridge of his nose.
Pincel gave me a knowing smile, one riddled with amusement. "We will keep in touch Miss Argent."
He nodded at my mother. "Sorry for the inconvenience Melissa."
Mum nodded swiftly back at him then, and with her nails digging into my shoulder, she dragged me towards the door. The other policemen gathered to murmur to themselves, their gazes flitting over to mine. I turned at the last minute to see Sheriff Pincel watching me as I went, his hand sliding down to rest on his gun at his belt. His fingers tapped the trigger once, three times. He gave me a corrupted wink before Mum yanked me out of the building.
....
I had often heard my classmates say that disappointment is worse than anger. They were wrong. Silence was worse than anger.
There was nothing to be said, nothing to break the ringing intensity of it. Silence was suffocating, like a dense cloud that gathered in your lungs until all you could breathe was guilt and taste it on the tip of your tongue. But my cloud didn't taste like guilt. It tasted like horror. Terror. The unexplainable. Death.
The cloud brewed, growing denser until I was chilled to the bone. It was only released when my mother shoved me into the passenger seat, causing the seat to shudder.
She was white with rage. After rounding the car, she got in and revved out of the hospital car park. They had allowed her to take me out for 'recreational purposes.' I'd stared at the receptionist and internally begged her to let me stay. She hadn't caught on.
Now we were driving, spearing down Central Street.
The silence was broken. "Your behaviour was ridiculous today."
Just like that, the oil had been washed through her gears and she was no longer the blank faced persona she was a mere few minutes ago.
I watched passing cars zoom past, blending into a multicoloured line of blurs. I said nothing, I was too afraid of what would come pouring out of my mouth. The shock had started to seep in. Shock from almost being killed. Shock from the barrel of the gun aimed at my forehead. Shock of finding out who the Supplier was. But also shock knowing I had created an enemy.
"Well?" Mum asked, her eyes on the road, her pupils narrow. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
"You're speeding," I said quietly. There was more silence but I noticed the cars passing by held more detail instead of blurring from our speed as Mum gradually slowed.
"I don't understand what is going on with you," Mum continued.
I gazed out the window, watching the bitumen streets shrink into narrow roads, buildings dissolving into grasslands. I wished more than anything that I could speak the truth. However, it was her who told me the process to use when I didn't want to give out information. Shut up, keep your head down, utter no word of the truth unless you're willing to experience the consequences.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her. Lines and crevices from stress and old age slashed across her face. I remembered her skin when it was soft and beautiful. Her broken mentality created a spider web of scars on her face.
I had to be strong. My mother was too delicate, too drowned. She couldn't know some of the stuff I had seen. She would never know I washed my hands for hours at a time, desperately scrubbing away at Aleena's blood that had long ago dried. She would never know my ribs now jutted out, rattling from every intake of breath. She would never know my dreams, dreams that haunt me every time I close my eyes.
"Renee at least look at me." Her voice broke through my thoughts.
I forced myself to glance at Mum. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel, turning her knuckles white. "Yes?" I managed to say.
She inclined her head slightly to me, her pupils flitting to mine before scanning back to the road. In that instant I saw something within her. Something so dark and angry that I wished more than anything she had never looked at me that way.
"I asked you a question," she stated.
I nodded although I wasn't sure if she could see it or not. "Yeah I know."
There was a beeping of a car horn. She ignored it. "So what's your answer?"
I paused, letting her words sink in. I could tell her everything. I could spill my secrets that keep me up at night. I could tell her about my wolf's teeth around my neck. I could tell her vividly the feeling of being chased by a shadow, a shadow carrying a gun. I could tell her about the feeling of being unable to control my body as it spasmed. I could. I could.
I can't.
It would be like throwing a rock off a cliff and asking it to fly. Impossible.
All this information would either corrupt her again, send her spiralling back down the empty pool of blackness she only just began recovering from, or just like I saw today, she wouldn't believe me. So instead I chose to lie. Like I had done too often in the last couple of months.
"Nothing is wrong with me," I said, awfully toneless. I was beginning to hate my voice. It sounded like my mothers.
I heard her sigh. It was a tired sigh, one full of exhaustion.
"You're lying. You've been in and out of hospital more in the past couple of months then you have your entire life. Your best friend is lying unconscious in hospital with tubes connected to her to keep her alive, you've been interrogated by the police, you've had an allergic reaction to silver and you're running around at stupid hours in the night to do who knows what."
I swallowed numbly, ignoring the flicker of my heart beat.
"Now tell me," she continued, her eyes set on the road ahead of us. "What is going on with you?"
"Nothing," I repeated.
"God damn it Renee what is wrong with you!" She slammed her hand into the steering wheel, causing me to jump. The car swerved, its front tyre whirling off the road. Mum yanked the car back onto the bitumen, swearing.
My hands were clenched on either side of the seat, my nails ripping into the cover. I forced my beating heart rate to lower itself.
Mums voice came back this time. Lower, more lethal. "Stop lying to me. Do you think I like this? Do you think I'm handling the idea of you being in hospital easily?"
I shook my head.
"Are you enjoying this act of rebellion Renee? This whole sneaking out scheme of yours? These boys? This isn't you Renee. It just isn't."
I didn't dare utter a word. If she had one glimpse into my mind she would question her own mentality. Was I as broken as she was? I was cracking, like a concrete pillar supporting the weight of its own existence. It would only take one more fracture for me to crumble.
"You need to listen here Renee. I don't know what happened to you but you need to put a stop to whatever your planning. That whole act with Sheriff Pincel was bad enough. Look what your actions have done to Aleena. Did she deserve that?" Mum took the opportunity to pause, most probably in an attempt to let the words sink in. It worked. Mum was right. I had put everyone I loved at risk. I put Aleena at risk and nearly got her killed. I put my wolf at risk. I wasn't sure if he was dead, dying or alive.
Mum could've been easily shot today. For once her words got to me. Like a whip cracking down across my face. Sharp and painful and real. They weren't apart of this. I was. This was my fight. And it was time I learnt to fight it alone.
....
Snow whirled at my feet, painting my bare skin to a deep blue. I wore nothing but a hospital frown, its long, lacy ribbons blowing in the wind. The sound whistled in my ears, setting my thoughts on edge.
Spruce trees rose from the ground, sprouting roughened leaves weighted with snow. They groaned against the gathering wind, protesting as their branches swayed.
"Renee." I turned to see him there. Aaron wore soft, white cloth that wrapped around his body, billowing out in the snow to make him blend into the ground. It was thin enough for me to see his bare chest under the material. His green eyes watched mine. I felt myself smile.
"Aaron," I breathed, my words fogging into sightless clouds of condensation.
His lips pricked into a mirrored smile at the mention of his name. I couldn't help but feel relieved. At least he was here with me. I wasn't alone. This time it would be different.
I began to walk towards him, feeling the snowflakes settle into my hair, kissing my lips, stroking my cheek.
As I neared him, he made a motion for me to stop. From this distance, I could see tiny individual snowflakes dust his eyelashes and trace his fringe. The whiteness of the snow brought out the green in his eyes. I was staring into gleaming emeralds, shining with the promise of safety.
"I missed you," Aaron said, his voice as light as air but I could hear it perfectly. I felt my smile broaden at the sound of his words.
"Where have you been?" I asked, attempting to move closer to him but he motioned for me to stop again. His cheeks were blossoming a red colour, flushing against the snow. Although his movements were jerky, his facial expressions were soft and flawless.
"Renee I have so much I want to tell you," he began, his eyes trapping mine. He was staring at me like he could see right through me, through my clothes, my skin, my bones.
Aaron took a step forwards, closing the distance. I smelt snow and pine, his honeycomb essence apparently gone.
Craning my neck to meet his gaze, I saw the golden flecks in his eyes. They were back again.
They shone so brightly in this weather, dancing across his irises the way the snowflakes danced between us. His pink lips curled into a smile. It was a beautiful sight, one that I didn't realise I needed until he gifted it to me.
I cocked my head slightly, forgetting about the icy wind that continued to sting at my skin.
"What is it?" I asked him carefully.
Aaron didn't respond immediately, instead he captivated me in his gaze. I couldn't move. I was staring into the eyes of something awfully dangerous but captivating.
An expression fell across his face. It was a soft expression, one that loosened his face and the tenseness in his mouth. His lips were titled in an unintentional smile as he reached up a gentle hand.
His fingers brushed my cheek, leaving a burning trail behind his delicate touch.
"When you had the seizure I thought I lost you," he whispered.
I studied him, this canvas I could paint by memory.
"I tore myself apart thinking that you died without me saying all the things I've always wanted to tell you." His fingers caressed my skin, spreading heat into them. "So I vowed once you came back I would tell you what I feel." His eyes had never been more bright. Golden wrestled with green, burning with the intense desire of lust. His face was so close; I could see the rawness of his feelings. This wasn't the Aaron I had first met. The quiet, studious and timid Aaron I knew. No, this was his possessive side. The side no one else was granted the opportunity to see.
"I'm here now." My voice cracked slightly under the presence of his touch. I couldn't think straight with him being this close.
His smile broadened as he spoke. "Yes you are." His fingers began to trace down my neck, pausing to stop just under my jawline. My heart hammered out of my chest, sending my pulse into rapid, jerky movements. His cheeks dimpled playfully. "Your heart is beating fast."
A small bubble of nervous laughter escaped my lips. His fingers then traced down my shoulders to travel to my hand. Goosebumps followed his movements. I couldn't feel the cold around us. I knew it was there from the presence of the snowflakes. But I only felt warmth and him.
I looked down to see him trace the outline of my scar. It was ugly, with jagged bits of white lines evident across both my knuckles and the underside of my hand. I reverted my gaze back to his
"I won't let anyone hurt you again." His voice was husky, deep in seriousness and sincerity.
"You don't have to," I said softly. "Nothing will, I am here now. I am safe."
He was still for a second, his thoughts silent but his expression raging with yearning.
"You're safe with me. I promise." The way my heart jumped, the way my skin heated under his touch, the way my cheeks burned from his gaze was all new to me. I was safe with him. I wasn't alone anymore. I was alive.
His fingers then retraced their path until he reached my lips. He traced their outline, as if he were to remember every detail, every feature as I parted them against his touch.
"God you are so beautiful," he whispered, his irises seething with colour.
I shivered and closed my eyes against the feeling of his fingers. And then his lips were on mine. They were so soft, so welcoming and warm. I wanted to melt against them. The wind was gone, the snow was gone, the forest was gone. It was just me and him. It was just his lips against mine.
The tang of mint tainted my lips as I kissed him and I felt his hands gently cup my head as if to make sure I wasn't going to disappear. His lips parted and I tasted his breath against mine. In almost a trance, I lifted my hand to gently rest it against his cheek, feeling the heat of his skin against mine. And then he filled the distance between us and suddenly his body was against mine.
Heat exploded around me, sending my heart into a vicious flurry of beats. My body moulded against his, fitting like a puzzle as he held me, his lips savouring mine. I wanted it to last forever. I wanted him to continue to hold me, to hold me until the sky turned from twilight to dawn. I wanted him to kiss me until our lungs ran out of air. I wanted to have him until the end of time. He was my breath, my lips, my arms, my legs. He and I were one, pressing, kissing, devouring each other like deprived wolves.
But then I tasted death. His lips no longer were dripping with sweetness, instead they tasted of false hope, of lose and destruction and depression.
I tried to pull away, but his grip hardened on me, stiffening my movements. The warmth started to seep out of us, starting from his lips. They weren't warm and welcoming anymore. Instead they were icy cold.
I finally escaped his grip, only to see his eyes flicker open. Aaron looked deathly pale, the flush of warmth no longer evident in his cheeks. Something was very wrong.
Black liquid stained his lips. Without thinking, I pressed my own fingers to my lips. I pulled them away to see black drip from them. Aaron looked equally as shocked as I did, his mouth agap in horror. That's when more black seeped out of his mouth. It was thick, thick as blood and it dripped down his parted lips to slide down his chin. He made a choking sound.
"Renee," he spluttered, his eyes widening in alarm. "What is happening to me?" His voice rose in panic.
"I-I don't know," I stammered. I made a move to touch him.
"No stay back," Aaron said quickly. I paused in my tracks, watching as more liquid spilled out of his mouth. He reeled over, doubling over.
I watched in horror as the black started to turn a different colour. My bones chilled as I recognised the colour of silver stain his lips as he vomited. The snow turned its colour around him.
He took a step backwards and lifted both his arms to look at them. His veins stood out, rising to the surface of his skin. But instead of being blue, they were erupting into silver. It started from his fingertips then began to spread upwards, splitting into tiny individual parts down his veins. It was like great spiderwebs were crawling up his hands, alive and moving. Fear flashed beneath his eyes and he sharply looked up at me.
"Help me," he whimpered, his golden gaze searching mine. His flecks darkened, disappearing beneath his desperate gaze. Then his eyes clotted with silver, spilling over his eyelashes to drip down his face. It fell into his mouth and dripped down his neck, staining his white clothes with the colour. He was crying silver. It blinded him and he reached up to claw at his eyes, ripping at them. Blood spurted against his fingers.
Aaron screamed. A scream filled with enough agony to bring me to my knees. It pounded in my ears and split my mind into two.
Then his screams were cut off, and I blinked the tears away to see him double over, falling to one knee. The silver was too thick, too veracious.
I could see his lips make out my name, coated with silver. It spilled down his chin and cascaded into his lap. I was staring into Deaths awaiting promise.
And then he collapsed, his desperate efforts no more.
He was dead.