Tear and Havoc
1410 Words
As I returned from the clinic where mom's fragile condition had been sorted, gradually, sorrow seeped into my bones.
I collapsed onto my bed, cradling a worn photo of the twins, their smiling faces pierce my heart.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I recalled our vow to protect each other.
The memory of Daylen's reassuring arm around my shoulders, his warm smile, and crinkled eyes now taunted me.
I hadn't kept my promise.
A sob shredded my composure, and I buried my face in the pillow, releasing pent-up anguish.
Jasmine's gentle touch on my shoulder slowly robs it to ease me up.
"I miss them so much," I whispered to my best friend as tears streamed down my face.
"Without them, I feel empty," I choked out, my voice shattering as I confessed.
"I'm here for you, Will. Jemmy and I will hold your hands," she promised, her voice cracked with emotion.
But I knew the truth: she couldn't protect me from my dad's cruelty, and Jeremy was too scared to fight Dad.
The thought of facing the future alone was suffocating.
Jasmine's gentle plea broke through my despair.
"Please, don't cry anymore. You'll be fine."
Her voice was laced with pain, and I nodded in response.
"Come on, let's get you dressed," she coaxed, interrupting my anguish.
"We need to join the others to light them candles." She concluded
I groaned, turning away.
"I don't want to go, Jas," I whispered,
"They wanted to see me shift, but now they're gone."
"You're a late bloomer, Will. You will surely morph someday."
At her words, I shook my head, skepticism and doubt consuming me but Jas's stern expression silenced my protests.
"We'll discuss this later," she said firmly. "For now, we say goodbye."
As she handed me our traditional white attire for funerals, memories flooded me again.
My grandmother had made this dress, but funerals only brought pain.
Jas coaxed me into a hot bath, then helped me into the dress.
Its looseness mirrored my emptiness.
Avoiding the mirror, I couldn't bear to see my reflection – sunken eyes, bruised lips, and a swollen face.
I sighed.
Every beating from my father left my face swollen, but Brian's gentle teasing would soothe the pain.
A tear escaped my eyes at the thought of him, then I felt Jasmine's thumb brush it away.
"Will, please let their hearts rest," she whispered with a nod.
I nodded, knowing our tradition – excessive grieving would trap their souls.
With Jasmine's arm wrapped around mine we left my father's house.
Our pack had grown, and every member had their own home, built with the Alpha's help.
Approaching the burial grounds, my heart sank and tears blurred my vision.
The alleyways glowed with scented candles, whose flickering flames danced like restless spirits.
In the distance, the bodies lay arranged.
This was all too much a haunting sight to see.
Gradually, pack members arrived.
After the felicitations, the families who lost their loved one's were invited to kiss their dead.
Mom went up with Jeremy, Father followed, but I couldn't join.
Losing my cousins felt unbearable.
When everyone stepped aside.
Pa Theodore, the oldest pack member, led the rituals.
With hands raised, he chanted in our native tongue.
"Mnēmē tōn agathōn machētōn"
(In memory of the noble warriors)
"Kleos aphthitōn" (Glory imperishable). The pack responded.
With his staff and a branch of the oak,
Pa Theodore began the Cunic recitation:
"Oh, noble pack, claws sheathed in earth,
Hearts once fierce, now at eternal peace.
Let your spirits run wild and free beneath the moon.
Beyond here
Howl through ages, legendary.
You wore the wolf's skin, beneath the full moon.
Your glory shall remain imperishable
Farewell, brave lupari, your memories will stay, howl in darkness, blessing our pack.
May Mené, let your spirits roam free."
"Māmboyé " (Let it be)
The pack chorused.
As Pa Theodore finished, Father handed him a burning torch and he slowly lit up each body.
I watched, anguish-ridden, as flames consumed the bodies.
The air reeked of burning flesh and wood, accompanied by mournful cries.
I stood motionless, my heart heavy with grief.
Jasmine's sobs drew my attention, her eyes fixed on Daylen's flaming pyre.
Snapping out of self pity for once, I took a step forward intending to comfort her, another step, and then.
A jarring crackle shattered the somber atmosphere.
A phone speaker blared to life, and a terrified voice pierced the night:
"Vampires on the hill, Jack. Do you copy?"
My footsteps halted.
My head snapped behind me instantly.
Jack's tall frame emerged, slicing through the crowd with urgent purpose.
Without thinking, I fell in step behind him, my footsteps light and cautious not to attract attention.
After two minutes, the mournful cries faded into the background as we exited the burial grounds.
Shedding my head cover in an instant, sorrow gave way to survival instinct.
My body became a blur of motion, driven by desperation and the looming danger behind our walls.
As I approached our home, my sharp gaze swept the surroundings.
Warriors dashed towards the east gate, with urgency.
"How did they know exactly when to strike?" I wondered.
I burst into my closet, scanning shelves and racks with practiced intensity.
My fingers closed around my sleek black bow, a gift from Father, and a quiver full of wooden-tipped arrows.
"Time to make a statement," I muttered, beneath ragged breathe.
I donned my flowing black nun's dress, its rustling fabric a stark contrast to my deadly intentions.
The mirror reflected a vision of purity and innocence, but I knew better.
Adjusting the dress, I tied a veil in place, my hands shaking with urgency.
Revenge drove me, and I wouldn't let uncertainty hold me back.
"Time to give those fools a taste of our pain," I whispered as I stole a final glance at the mirror.
With haste, I sprinted towards the east wing, pounding the stone floor with every step.
I scaled the watchtower stairs with ease, agility and bravery guiding my hands and feet.
In no time I arrived at the window, and a panoramic view unfolded.
Below, fifty snarling creatures moved with swift, deadly precision against my kind.
The warriors fought valiantly, but they were vastly outnumbered.
My eyes narrowed as I quietly assessed the situation, my mind racing with strategy.
With a deep breath, I located my first target, I drew my bow, took aim, and released the arrow.
It struck its mark, saving a struggling wolf from certain death.
The vampire disintegrated into ash and fragments.
"Bring it on," I whispered, eyes locked on the horde.
"I'll be the hurricane."
I drew another arrow, my heart pounding with anticipation.
The arrow flew, wreaking havoc on its target. They kept coming, their numbers endless, but I refused to yield.
I took a deep breath, then descended into the battle's midst in my mind.
"This is for Brian," I whispered
The arrow struck true, crumbling a vampire to dust.
My arrows flew swift and silent, striking time and again.
Vampires howled in rage and pain, scanning the hills in confusion, unable to pinpoint the source.
"You should have stayed out of our lands," I delivered another shot.
"You should have left us in peace."
I targeted the vampire who tore into Jack's rib cage, the scar matching Simon's lifeless body.
"This is for Simon, that lovely boy." My arrow struck true once more.
"And this is for Nikolas," I muttered, pulling my bow and taking another down.
I channeled my pain into each arrow, striking with precision.
The vampires faltered, their numbers dwindling as they realized they were being picked off by an unseen enemy.
As the last vampire crumbled to dust, my tension melted away.
I wiped the sweat from my face, my hand brushing against my forehead.
A small smile played on my lips.
"The night may be dark but, the dawn will always be mine" I whispered, recalling Daylen's quote from a painful past.
I shook off the memories, savoring my victory, then I made to leave.
Descending the stairs, I was enveloped by a mournful hymn.
Pack members sang in the distance, their voices carrying through the foliage.
As I made to slip away, the sound of a broken twig, accompanied by a low growl, caught my attention.
I spun around, paralyzed with fear.
From the distance, a pair of red eyes locked onto mine.
- Writer
