Supernaturals

24. To save a friend

DECLAN

My sight was blurry, my head aching from the vervain I had earlier inhaled. Funny enough, I wasn't injected with vervain syrup. For a people who had vervain generously put all around their territory, it seemed quite ironic that I wasn't injected at all.

I was chained to a metal chair. The chains were ridiculously huge and heavy and I had multiple of them expertly wrapped around me. I doubted if a bear could break out of this if it were in my shoes.

But of course, I could. Quite easily, and once again, it was almost unbelievable that they weren't aware of this. It surprised me because other Supernaturals weren't popular for underestimating the powers of vampires. The reverse was mostly the case.

Might I add, I was also surprised that I was alive. I couldn't think of one reason my head wasn't detached from my body. I didn't have many ideas, but I figured it was either they were stup*d . . .stup*d.

In the poorly illuminated room I was in, were seven men I assumed were werewolves. All of them had spears pointed at me.

Maybe they knew I could break out of the binds. But then again, if they knew, what the f*ck were they trying to achieve?

I couldn't think clearly so I gave up on the thought and tried reclining on the chair. It wasn't comfortable at all, so no questions about how that went.

“Don't try anything funny, we have dealt with vampires in the past and have come out victorious,” one of the men said, holding his weapon even more seriously than before.

“I'm the one chained up, but you're the ones scared, quite ironic, isn't it?”

The same man spoke again. “Well, we have to be careful when dealing with vile creatures like you.”

This time he tried sounding more confident, perhaps trying to turn the table around so I'll begin to fear them. Well, I could have bought it if his hands weren't even more shaky than his voice.

“You are the ones that turn to wild animals yet I'm the vile creature? Once again, ironic.”

They all kept mute but kept pointing their spears at me. Their fear was quite understandable but the sight just screamed “pathetic”. To me at least.

All I wanted now was to go back to Ashley and Rochu at the human's home where they were. Along with being mad, Ashley must be worried now that I have stayed more than I planned to.

The man whom I guessed was their leader, walked in with another man. He was the werewolf Ashley, Rochu and I saw the day we escaped. He dismissed the seven “spear holders” except the man he came in with.

“Hi there, I'm Shawn Holland, leader of the vampire territory and this is my friend Mike.” He smiled at me. “You can get out of those chains anytime you like . . .we know that, you know?”

“It's rather comfy here, so I'll pass,” I said and then asked him a question. “Why chain me at all if you knew it was useless?"

The other man answered. “Because Shawn here, recognised you and didn't think you're a danger to anyone. He only chained you to pacify the hearts of the men keeping a watch on you.”

Made more sense now.

“Well, I'll be on my way then,” I said, ripping the chains apart without much stress.

“For the sake of my warm hospitality, tell me what you were doing near our territory. I, for one, don't believe you came to kill anyone.”

The other guy, who didn't like that his leader was being nice to me, chipped in. “Shawn and I rarely ever disagree, except for a time like this.”

I stood and then moved closer. Neither of them was even a little scared. If they were, they were f*cking good at hiding it.

“I tracked a witch here,” I admitted.

“To kill or eat her?” Shawn wondered aloud.

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Or both?”

I shook my head vehemently. “Neither.”

There was a very awkward silence for an unusually long time. What made it even worse was the fact that we were all vertical and unmoving.

Shawn broke the silence. “I have two questions and then you can be on your way.”

“I can choose to answer nothing and still be on my way.”

Mike cut in. “Where's the civility in that?”

“Okay, shoot.”

Shawn stared at me more directly now as he shot the questions at me. “Vampires don't have heightened senses like ours, so how the f*ck did you track a witch here? Next, what exactly did you intend to do with the witch?”

Though it might not seem like it, the first question was at least a million times easier than the second. I almost got dumbfounded but I knew that answering the questions too slowly could make me look like a liar.

“I'm a hybrid and I intended to speak with the witch because I hadn't seen her since I saved her.”

I told them the backstory of it all.

I hope my answer was entirely true because werewolves could hear heartbeats and would know if I was lying.

“A hybrid? That rarely happens, besides I'd know if you were half-werewolf,” Shawn said, meticulously looking at my every “move"— though I wasn't doing a lot of that.

“I'm afraid I'm not your ordinary hybrid; I'm a half-demon and half vampire.”

Now I could see traces of fear on Mike's face. He was trying so hard to conceal it but he would be so relieved when I left.

Shawn on the other hand, was still as expressionless as ever. Not like I wanted him to be scared or anything, but it seemed to me that nothing could shake the man. I feared people like that.

“You have got to be kidding,” Shawn said, probably hoping I wasn't being serious.

“I'm afraid I'm not.”

Though there wasn't any story harder to tell, I began to explain every single thing that happened to Shawn and Mike. I did my best to make certain that I didn't leave anything out. I wasn't sure why I was being so sincere with them, but I continued talking anyway.

They couldn't hide the terror and disgust on their faces when I told them what Landon made me do to the witches he caught. It was as though I became even more of a monster as soon as they heard all I had to say.

When I was done, there came the expected awkward silence. Both of them sat and seemed very lost in thought. I couldn't blame them, what I did was more than enough to give anyone nightmares. I was having more than just a fair share of those lately.

I broke the silence, asking to see the witch. They were both shocked.

Shawn finally spoke. “This certainly has very little to do with me so I can't tell you what to do or not. But do you think it's best to tell a witch that you r*ped her friends—both male and female— and then, they were killed afterwards?”

I stammered through my response. “I . . . didn't, I mean, I was f*rced.”

Mike stood and began pacing. “That wouldn't mean s**t to her.”

They were probably right. But then, I had done the evil deed, whether I was f*rced or not meant very little to the witches whom I ‘r*ped' just before their brutal demise.

“Please, let me see her,” I pleaded once more.

Shawn and Mike exchanged glances.

“I guess that's not too much to ask," Shawn said, and then walked out of the room.

Suddenly, I became very nervous. I didn't know if I would be able to tell her all I did just as I told these werewolves. My hands began to shake and then tears poured down my face.

Mike saw it but pretended not to.

This felt like the worst moment of my life. And that was justifiable since it was the worst moment of my life.