Alpha Ryder's Revenge

Alpha Ryder stepped out into the night, the cool air kissing his face while his hair danced as the breeze mesmerized the strands that were just light enough. He had been feeling choked lately, and everything he had fought to attain suddenly made no sense to him. He takes a quiet and long walk to the park. Most humans would be gone by now, and he could have the privacy he wanted: he could talk to himself without restraint. As he entered the park, he noticed a chubby ginger redhead sitting on one of the iron benches, stroking a plump cat. The sight brought a wistful smile to his face. Not because he was particularly fond of animals, but that this lady - whoever she was - had a striking resemblance to his mother. He went down memory lane, gradually losing his orientation with his immediate surroundings. His mother had been so helpful, and protective of him. He remembered how gingerly and carefully she had always packed every single lunch bag for him. He received each gratefully, always getting surprised by a new delicacy at school. It put him in sort of a class; that he never brought a particular meal twice for lunch. He smiled as a scene of her defending him from his father flashed before his mind's eye. Then that dreadful night The whole family was at dinner. Small, comfortable, and happy. His father had seemed so happy and that set the mood for the evening. His parents had let him have some of the red wine. They usually only gave him a cocktail. First, his mother had c****d her head in one direction, then another. His father was almost finishing a joke. He noticed how alert his mother became and he turned to her. “What is it, mom?" He'd asked with round eyes because he was worried by her sudden unrest. "Finish your food, Wulfgar.” She always called him by the family name, and barely ever said Ryder. That was when his father began acting the same way too. He had been a confused ten-year-old, sitting with suddenly alerted parents at dinner. "Anything wrong, Dad?” His father hadn't answered but his eyes grew sad. Young Ryder turned to look at his mother. She had the same wistful look. He continued to search her eyes, hoping she would say something; anything to keep his nerves at bay. "They're coming. No matter what happens, what you hear or what you see, doesn't come out. Okay?” He nodded without even understanding what his mother was talking about. They hurriedly brought the dinner to an end. He strongly believed that his dad never told him the complete tale; as to why they were so happy that evening. He had died with the tale. His mother took him and rubbed a strange ointment onto his skin so vigorously that he felt hot all over. His father pressed a small bracelet into his palm. They gave him long hugs and many kisses before lowering him below the latch underneath the dining table. No sooner had they hidden him than he began to hear loud noises above him like people fighting. He heard his mother's sharp scream. Within moments, an icky fluid leaked onto his hair. He smudged it and brought his fingers to his nose. He recoiled at the metallic smell. Everything stood still when he heard his mother's sobs. “Please, please. We don't have a child. I wouldn't lie to you…” Young Ryder backed further into the darkness of the small space where his parents hid him. The realization of everything dawned on him so heavily that he became void of emotions for a brief moment. His parents had given their lives to save him. After some moments, more of the icky fluid came pouring down, but onto his shooed feet this time. He cried silently, now knowing what the fluids were - his parents’ blood. When everywhere was calm and feet no longer shuffled on the floor above him, he came out of the hideaway. His mind reacted with tremendous horror to the gory images before his eyes. His parents who had been laughing with him over dinner now lay lifeless on the kitchen floor with so much blood on the floor and walls. His father had been stabbed in the neck, while his mother had a slit throat. Hot tears with a rising temper made it difficult for him to breathe, but he was careful not to make any loud sounds. He was still sobbing silently when he heard the front door break open. He started and quickly grabbed the carving knife from the rack on the kitchen counter. A man with silvery hair walked in, clad in black from head to toe. He had a black shirt, a long leather jacket, and leather pants. He also had dark shades on. “Who are you?" Young Ryder asked, waving the carving knife in a threatening manner at the intruder. He can't remember what happened, but he woke up pretty drained the next day. Ryder was drawn back to the present when he locked eyes with the redhead. It was quite an awkward situation, but it wouldn't hurt if he posed as an admirer. “What are you gawking at, psycho?" That was pretty off what he'd expected, but he took it well. She might just be another ignorant and random human. “You have beautiful hair." He managed a smile. The redhead’s cheeks filled with color in the moonlight. She tucked some of her hair behind her left ear. “Oh! I'm so sorry. I got freaked out by the way you continued to stare at me. I had waved and you didn't return it, so I was getting quite defensive." Alpha Ryder understood her plight at once and apologized. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. It's just that you remind me of someone I lost." Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight with the tears that came into them. “I'm so sorry about that." “It's fine." Alpha Ryder brushed her apology off, but not unkindly. An awkward moment of silence transpired between the duo. Just then her plump cat purred like it was getting impatient with the loud silence. “Oh! Nice cat you got there." The redhead smiled broadly. “Yes, he is. Thank you. My grandmother gave him to me before she passed. He was only a few months old then. He's five years old now, and he still reminds me strongly of her.” "I'm sorry to hear that.” Alpha Ryder became aware that he had been standing at the same spot. "I should really get going. It was nice meeting you - and your cat.” "It was nice meeting you too, Mr…" She replied, extending her hand for a handshake. “Wulfgar," Ryder stated as he took her hand briefly before he walked over to his favorite spot. He continued to watch the back of her head, and the fluid-like wagging of her cat's furry tail. He threw his head back and shut his eyes for a bit. His mother's eyes stared back. He quickly opened his and gazed at the moon, willing it to take away every knowledge he had of his parents' murder. Sometimes, he regretted ever being born to them. They would have still been alive if they hadn't had him. He was surely cursed by the moon goddess.