Monster behind the Diamond Mask

Chapter 2 – My Life's Story

The pills seemed to have the opposite effect on me then it should be doing. After ten minutes of waiting for the pill to work, to take effect, I noticed I felt odd. I felt energy fill me.

I had thrown off the blanket and rummage in the room that was giving to me. I found drawing charcoal inside the closet and an idea popped into my head.

I rushed to the wall next to the door and started drawing. I drew my mother, her head resting on my dad's chest. I took special care to the eyes. The eyes were the most important part. It was where I looked to see their souls, their happiness. I used the chair to stand up on to work on the hard to reach places. Mainly the hair.

I drew a small child in between my parents. Her face was looking up at them, her smile was huge and she was happy. She was the me that was lost after my mother left. This me was still happy. This me was the one I wanted to be.

Her parent's hands were on her shoulder in a protective trance.

I just finished up when the sun started to raise and I took a step back. The effect was starting to wear off and I went to the bottle that contained the sleeping pills. I drank only a half one, knowing if I drank too much, I might OD or get addicted, but I still had work to do on this.

I picked up the charcoal and then went to my mother's side in the drawing. I drew a tree that blossomed with flowers. Under its shadow, I drew a man. The shadows covered his face, making it difficult to recognize him. Yet, I knew who he was and though I knew it was difficult to see his face, I knew who he was looking at. My mother.

At my Dad's side, I drew a man sitting on the grass. His legs drawn up and his arms hanging loosely as it was set on his knees.

Just as I was about to form the face of the sitting man, Annie came in.

She let out a little gasp when she saw the drawing.

I think I told her to hush or something, because she didn't say a word. Instead, she went and sat on the bed.

The sitting man's face was similar to my Dad's. Brothers. Uncle James. And he was looking at his brother with sadness. Remorse and slight anger.

I bent down to sit in front of the girl. At her feet a drew a little pup on the one side and a little kitten on the other. Lester, the pup, was a Labrador, that I had since I was three, but had died due to bone cancer.

Tammy, the kitten, was a Tabby cat, that I've gotten after Lester. I had him only a few short years until he ran away.

They were my only true friends in life. The other judge me or only used me, seeing as I was dating the "hottest" guy in school. I didn't see it. There was nothing "hot" about Simon.

I went to the sleeping pills and downed the other half, not even washing it down with the little water that was left.

And then I started drawing the last thing that came to mind I saw this picture. Me.

Under the tree, along with the mystery man, I drew myself on the other side of the tree trunk. Unlike the man, you could see my face clearly. It's bruised and filled with pain. I was leaning against the tree, to weak to stand on my own. Only good thing in this part of the picture was my smile.

I was looking at the younger me and I was remembering what it was like to be happy.

Just then I finished and went to sit on my bed next to Annie. Her mouth was open as she took in the drawing.

"This..." she started, than stopped. Then she tried again. "This is really good. This is a bloody masterpiece. I haven't seen a drawing as beautiful as this!”

"It isn't supposed to be beautiful," I said as I looked at it. No, it wasn't. It was painful and just a simple dream. And I didn't even know why I drew it. I just had the urge to. Maybe it was those pills.

No, I'm lying. I know why I drew it. It's a reminder. Something to look at in the morning till I die, which is probably soon, and remind me of the stuff I must never forget.

"Annie," a voice said just outside the door, followed by a soft tap. "Did the human eat you?”

The door opened and a girl walked in. I gave her a quick look then back at the drawing.

The girl looked at us for a moment then turned to look at the drawing.

"Oh my… gosh," she said and hid her mouth behind her cupped hands. "It's lovely! Did you draw it, Samantha? You are talented!”

Annie turned to me. "You said it wasn't supposed to look beautiful," she said, which also drew the attention of the girl. "What do you mean?”

I stood up and looked at the painting. "The drawing is unpleasant. You don't know what happened to this girl," I pointed to the little girl that characterized the young me. "and how she came to be this girl." I said as I pointed to the bruised and broken, yet smiling girl.

"Now," I said. "I think you should inform Doctor Banks that somebody switched his pills, because I didn't get sleeping pills. I received drugs that kept me awake and I think they are starting to wear off." It was probably true, because the lights seemed to have dimmed and my head was slightly dizzy and the thought of my head on a pillow seemed to smooth the dizziness a bit.

Annie and the girl seemed to understand what I was saying and left the room. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out and in a dream world.

My dream wasn't much fun though. More correctly, it was torture. I dreamt I was back home making dinner for Dad and myself. Just as I was about to dunk the pasta in that bowl with holes to get rid of the water, the pot handles burned me and I dropped the pot and the air was filled with a deafening sound.

I cursed under my breath and made my way to the kitchen closet to retrieve the mop. Instead, inside the closet was the mysterious man, his face dark and covered with shadows. A deep shadow that seemed to send shivers down your spine. I knew who he was as soon as I laid my eyes on him.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed towards him. "If Dad finds you here, he will kill you!”

"No, my love," he said, though his voice sounded like it was a mist that echo. You hear it, but you are unsure you heard it and the only reason why you know that it was there was the echo of his words.

"Dad will be here any moment. You got to leave," I pleaded and I wanted to pull him to the back door, but my hand went through him. It felt like I had my hand in a ice bucket.

"What?" I asked and looked at the man, fear coursing through my veins. "What are you?”

"No, my love," he said again, his voice still misty and echoing.

Then I heard the front door slam and I turned around. I was only turned for a few seconds, when the man had me in a head lock and both my arms behind my back. I shivered uncontrollably as the coldness consumed me.

Then I heard a laugh and I looked towards the kitchen door. The laugh was still echoing, but my Dad's face was deadpan.

"You deceived me, Samantha," I heard my Dad say, but his lips haven't moved. "Time to learn what happens to monster.”

"Please, Daddy," I pleaded, trying to escape from the grip I was in.

Dad took two steps forward and four figures entered the room.

Simon came in first and he was in a dark cloak. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Then he looked at the ceiling and a terrifying sound escaped from him. Like a shriek of a banshee and a siren mixed. When he stopped he looked at me and his mouth was hanging in an unnatural angle. "Why, Sammy? I trusted you!" The words seemed to escape from him.

The next figure was Riana, who was in a golden cloak. She didn't have a mouth, but had several eyes. "Finally, Samantha, you are getting what you deserve." Her voice filled the room. Her laughter seemed to come from many places at once.

Then Ivan entered the room and he was dressed in a purple cloak. Nothing was wrong about him, until his head slowly turned into a full circle, the skin around his neck was stretched and looked like the harbour ropes my Dad use to work with. "You've been a bad girl, Sammy," he said as soon as he was looking at me.

The fourth figure was no other than Cyrus. His mouth and eyes sewn up tightly and his skin was as pale as snow. He said nothing. He just stood there in his red and amber cloak.

And then entered the mysterious man, his face still shadowed.

I looked around, because he had just held me. Now, I was hung in the same way the wolf had hung. My back against the wall, my limbs were nailed to the wall. As I realised this, I felt the pain and I screamed till my voice was rough and started to cry and plead.

Then the mystery man was in front of me and some of the shadow had lifted and I could see his smile. It wasn't a good smile, it was an evil one and I felt my heart drop below my feet.

"Nobody loves you now, my love." I heard his voice. It still sounded misty, except there was no echo. It was singular and somehow sounded much more frightening then before.

Then my Dad came forward with a scalpel and he had the same smile on his face as the mysterious man.

I thrust and struggled, screaming louder and begging more fiercely then before.

I felt myself being shaken awake. As my eyes flashed open and the scene of my nightmare vanished, my breaths calmed down, I saw Catherine lean over me. Her eyes looked fearful as they studied me.

"You just had a nightmare," she said. She sounded concerned, but I must be bluffing to myself, because I couldn't comprehend why she would be.

When I sat up, she sat on the bed beside me and took my hand. Had it been somebody else, I'd have moved away immediately, but somehow her touch calmed me enough to realize I was really awake. I was awake and I felt slightly safer then I was few seconds ago.

"Want to tell me about it?" she asked.

I shrugged and looked at my drawing, or more precisely, at the man that uses the shadows to cover his face.

"It was just a nightmare," I said as I looked at the drawing. "Like you said.”

Catherine looked at the drawing. "It's filled with a lot of complicated emotions. The strongest emotions lies with the family, happiness and love.”

"Yes," I said as I looked at the little girl. "They were full of it. Love, I mean. It's probably why they held on so long until it snapped.”

"What are you going to call it?" she said as she stood up and walked to the child and place her hand on the child's hair.

"What do you mean?" I asked as I knotted my hands together.

"All good masterpieces has a name, even if it isn't finished," she said, tenderly stroking the girls hair, careful not to smudge the work.

"This is finished," I said as I took a look at the drawing. "And I'll call it 'My Life's Story.'”

Catherine turned to me and seemed to be inspecting me. "Samantha, I know I haven't known you long, but what I do know is, is that you are not bruised and weak. That girl under the tree isn't you, even if you think it is.”

"You don't know anything," I sighed as I looked at the bruised me. Strange how Catherine had made that comparison so easily between the drawing of the bruised me and the real me. She must have a keen sense for art. I looked at the bruised me a little longer then continued speaking. "She isn't strong. She's a disappointment. A dead man walking with nothing but a memory of what it feels like to be in a family. She's alone now and she will always be.”

"You might feel that now, but maybe one day you will see the way I see you. What I see is, is she was beaten down by all the obstacles in her life, but what gives her strength isn't a tree, but that one memory of her family. It gives her strength to smile, even if it hurts.”

I looked at her blankly. No, I didn't see it at all. Not even in the slightest. I am beaten down and I'm to stand up again.

"Come on," she said as she leaning towards me. "Big girls don't cry and you, Samantha, you are a big girl.”

"I wish I wasn't," I said, which was true. I still wanted to be that little girl in my drawing.

Catherine smiled at me. "Then let's be children today. Come on, let's go get something to eat. You haven't eaten in a long time. You haven't even eaten yesterday's lunch.”

As she voiced these words of how my stomach must have felt, my stomach wanted to show it agree by giving a loud growl.

I shook my head. “I can't. My chain is limited to this room.”

Catherine laughed and then took the hand that was shackled. "Let me show you a surprise." She turned my hand so my wrist faced the ceiling. In the centre, the divided line was easy to spot in this light. Catherine placed her fingers just above the above point and just below the line and press and the lines parted.

"They aren't real shackles," she laughed after she saw my shocked face. "We don't like them much. Makes us feel like dogs.”

"I can understand," I said with a smile. Though what I really was thinking was along the line of… "But aren't you a dog?" The question was there, but I kept myself silent.

"You know, you have a beautiful smile," she said as she cupped my face in her hands. "I want to see it more.”

A short laugh came out of my mouth. It was short, because I realized that this had been the first time I've laughed in five years. And it felt good to laugh.

Another laugh came out of me, this one slightly longer, and it felt like a high all on its own.

Finally, I got myself under control and smiled brightly at Catherine. "Sorry," I said. "I haven't laughed in a long time. I missed how good it felt.”

"No need to explain to me," she said as she stood up. "Let's go eat. Most of the pack is outside to work and some is away on business, so we won't bump into a lot of people.”

That seemed to take some pressure of my chest. "Fine," I said and stood as well. Then I looked at her. "Why are you being so kind to me?”

She looked like she was considering her answer and thinking it through before answering. "You look like you have been tortured far worse than I've been. And I thought, I might as well be a friend to you, even if it's to make your life a little more bearable.”

"Thanks," I said and smiled at her. "I think I needed it.”

We started moving towards the kitchen and Catherine spoke. "My pleasure. Oh, and before I forget. My mate wants to see you tonight. You can come and have dinner with us or we can talk in your room.”

"Which one do you prefer?" I asked, hesitantly. If Catherine was the Luna, that made her mate the Alpha. He was the guy that my dad was after. And my dad had tortured the Alpha's mate to find his whereabouts.

"You better have dinner with us," she said and then smiled. "Don't worry, he won't hurt you. If he does, I'll kick him out the house and he'll be licking his wounds.”

I laughed soft and looked down at myself. "I don't think my clothes are fit to even dine with slaves.”

Catherine laughed. "I'm sure Annie has something in your size. You know, Annie likes you. Not romantically, mind you. She especially liked you after that drawing. She wants to major in art and found your masterpiece inspiring. It's hard to inspire that girl, trust me.”

"Then I'm glad. At least I inspire somebody," I said and forced a smile. Now I felt glum all over again.

"Maybe later, when she gets back, she can show you around a bit.”

"Isn't that pushing it a bit?" I said, just as we entered the kitchen. Then I halted.

The kitchen was filled with werewolves.

Catherine seemed equally surprised.

One of the werewolves stood up and walked towards Catherine and grabbed her in a tight embrace.

She let out giggles and her head fell back and I saw that he was kissing her neck.

Embarrassed of gawking at them while they were embraced in such a way, I looked away, my cheeks taking up a heat.

Instead of looking at the couple, I looked at the crowded people. Among them was Annie and the girl from this morning. I gave them a small smile then looked down at my feet.

"You're back early," I heard Catherine say and I looked up again.

Her mate, the Alpha chuckled. "Yes, I'm back early. The Northern Lights Pack gave word that they wouldn’t be arriving for another two days. One of their little ones has grown deadly ill and they stayed behind to see if they can nurse him back to health.”

"Poor pup. I hope he survives," Catherine said and rubbed her hand through his hair.

"And why are you in the kitchen?" he asked, his voice was tenderly.

"I'm getting Samantha something to eat," she said simply and then turned to me. "Samantha, this is my mate, if you didn't notice yet. His name is Casper.”

"Nice to meet you," I said and forced a smile.

Casper looked me up and down and pulled a face that showed me already he didn't like me.

I looked him up and down as well. So this is the man my Dad was after…

"He's handsome, right?" said Catherine and she had a big smile on her face.

I looked down. "Eh, yes, very." Even I could hear the crack in my voice. I cleared my throat. "No one can be more handsome then your mate.”

Apparently my quick correction didn't work, because Catherine slapped at Casper's chest and gave a grunt.

She took me by the arm and pulled me to the centre of the room. "If I hear any of you or your friends bad mouthing Samantha, I will literally put you guys on a leash. Even you, Casper. This girl has been through enough as it is and I don't need you guys adding to it.

"Yes, her father had kidnapped me and torture me. And that was him, not her. You guys continue this hospitality towards her and I'm walking out of this pack. And I will walk for her.”

She let out a gush of breath and then went to the refrigerator. She took some containers out and then walked out of the room.

I followed on her heels. "You shouldn't have done that," I said after a minutes.

"I did do it and I probably will do it again," she said, turning only to give me a quick smile.

When we entered my room, somebody was sitting on my bed. The good Doctor Banks.

"Adrian," Catherine said, surprised. "What are you doing here?”

"Annie came to me this morning, telling me the pills I gave Samantha were wrong," he said and looked at me. "Is this true?”

"Yes," I said as I went to the closet to get the container of pills. "Instead of sedating me, it gave me a high. I was awake the whole night and I drew this." I said as I nodded my head at the drawing.

"That is odd," the doctor said as he inspected the bottle. "I'll bring other pills later." Then he stood up. "And by the way, that is a good painting.”

I gave him a nod and he walked out, his bag in his hand and the container in another.

I sat on my bed, with Catherine in front of me. While I ate, Catherine told me how she and her mate had found each other and how it was an odd choice. She wasn't of Luna blood, and it was rare for somebody like her to be the mate of an Alpha.

I found myself laughing at some of the stuff that had happened between them. For example, they had a tug of war going on and Catherine knew a way to win easily. Simply by pushing the rope towards him and it had caught Casper off guard and he fell into a mud puddle.

I was still laughing when I noticed someone at the door and my laugh turned dry. Casper seemed to have been there a while. He was leaning against the door frame and had a slight smirk on his face and the way he was looking at Catherine was one of adoring and admiration.

I looked away, mostly because it hurts to see true love when I know I'll never have one.

"What are you doing here?" Catherine said, her words not as aggressive as it had been before.

"Well, it appears that I'm hearing my name being slandered by my own mate," he said and gave a smile that was filled with secrets and promises.

Catherine laughed and shook her head. "Don't be envious, darling. It looks nasty on you.”

Casper entered the room and then turned to the drawing and took a step back. "This is…" He didn't finish, but came to sit next his mate. "I guess I understand what Annie was talking about.”

"She's calling it 'My Life's Story.'" Catherine said, sounding like a proud mother. "But her drawing is not why you are here, Cass.”

"You're right, of course," he said, then turned to me. In his eyes there was a glimpse of something. "I came to find out why her father wants me.”

My throat suddenly got tight and my lungs, as well as my stomach, did a flip flop. It felt hard to breath and the food I had just eaten threatened to come up again.

I looked down at my hand and knotted them together, then unknotted them and knotted them again.

This was a topic my dad wouldn't want me to tell to his enemy. I saw no harm in telling the Alpha, but my loyalty for my Dad was strong.

I looked at the drawing, to Uncle James. His face full of sorrow.

Instead of telling the Alpha, I stood up and took the box with the charcoal. Usually when I wanted to think, I'd play my guitar, but it wasn't hijacked along side of me. So I settled for drawing. I walked to the wall next to the closet and placed the box on the ground. I picked up the charcoal and started drawing.

I knew exactly what to draw. I started with the outline of the nose and then the eyes.

I was focused on the wall. So focus I didn't realize somebody was behind me until I was pulled from the wall.

"What the hell are you doing," Casper yelled as he pushed me away from him in seconds later. "I want to know why your father was willing to torture my Luna to find me.”

"He didn't know,” I said. I wasn't giving out to much information. "And if I say more, it will sound worse than it really is." I turned back to the new drawing and started drawing.

"What didn't he know?" Casper said and spun me around again, this time causing me to draw a straight line through my drawing. As he looked into my eyes, I could see his how confused and how frustrated he really was.

I felt my muscles in my forehead come together as I saw another emotion. He was worried, but he didn't want me seeing it.

I took a step back and fell. As an instinct, I reached out backwards to catch myself and a great variety of pain shot into my arms and seconds later my butt hit the floor with an audible thump. As I looked around, I realized what I fell over and frowned. Somehow I had forgotten about the small little box that held charcoal which I had placed lazily at my feet and that was what caused my down fall.

Catherine started laughing. Her laugh wasn't at all like before. Last time it was a soft and controlled laugh. This time it was hysterical and hard and uncontrolled.

I quickly push her laugh out of my senses, trying to calculate if I really had placed the little box there. It seemed unlikely, but I did have a distant image in my head of me placing the box there.

As another thought crossed my mind, I felt the room vibrate slightly. I felt like I was dipped into a bath filled with ice. The vibration got worse and all I could think was 'Please no. Not again.'

Catherine had stopped laughing, and was now sitting in front of me, saying stuff that I couldn't comprehend.

Until I realized I was shaking. That nothing in this room was physically shaking, except me. And the thought that brought on the shakes were simple. I was numb in my arms. The pain was gone and so was the feeling in them. They felt like little rubbery stuff.

I felt my breath hitch, thinking I had damaged my nerves in my arms.

And then the feeling came back and I exhaled in relieve.

"…OK?" Catherine voice entered my subconscious.

I looked at her and nodded, taking her stretched out hand to pull me up. As I was pulled up right, my eyes fell on the little box, sitting innocently on his spot, mocking me.

I looked at Casper and shook my head. "My Dad didn't know she was the Luna," I said then went to sit on my bed.

Seeming to sense I didn't want to be bothered about the happening of a few seconds ago, he frowned at me and folded his arms. "And what if he did know she was the Luna?”

"You don't want to know," I mumbled.

"I'll be the judge of that," he said, sounding slightly annoyed.

"So will I," Catherine said, her petite body just peaking from behind Casper.

"If he had known," I said as I looked at them equally in the eyes, hoping they won't see how scared the next few words actually make me. "he would have don't more than simply hit you or cut out your ovaries. He would have used more daring torture instrument then a surgical kit.”

There was a deafening silence in the room was the words sunk in.

Casper's frown deepened by the second and I saw Catherine tremble slightly, then she looked at me as she took her mates hand. "Tell me, little Samantha, is your father really that man you drew in the picture or do you enjoy playing pretend.”

With that, Catherine guided her mate and herself out the door leaving me with a question in the air.

The real question she had asked was 'Do you really think your father is a good man and not a monster?' It seems Catherine enjoying listening at other people's conversation.