#kaden chatzy

[honeysmokedham]

TIMING: 5/20 LOCATION: Nora's Secret Spot PARTIES: Kaden & Nora SUMMARY: Nora contacts a hunter to take care of a problem. Kaden shows up. WARNINGS: suicidal ideation tw, gun tw (present but not used), Suicide tw

Time hadn’t stopped. Everything around Nora had shattered into a spray of tiny glass pieces, glittering and sharp, reflecting her failures back to her. They cut as gravity pulled them down, an endless storm. It was unrelenting. Each time she thought the rainy day was stopping, and her cuts started to heal, the storm would double down. The glass would rain harder than ever, slicing her open two fold. Worst of all, time kept going. Some days were bearable, some days were worse. All days were miserable. Every day she clung to Regan’s words with the same claw like fingers that clutched at Declan’s remains. Live to mourn, because they will not. And god did she mourn. She wore her grief like a black veil that shrouded her, erasing the person underneath and leaving nothing but the memory of a girl who’d once lived. The shadow loved the veil, the shadow was the veil, the shadow consumed her. It stroked her hair, it rubbed her back, it whispered her mistakes in detail over and over and over again. It pronounced her a murderer.

Some nights Nora would stay at Van’s. Stay, because sleep never came. She would lay in bed with her friend, both of them hoping that the shared comfort two best friends can find in each other, would be enough to give her sleep. Or maybe it was a comfort for Van, Nora suspected something might be wrong with her friend, but the burden of her grief flooded her, and weighed her down, unable to ask. Instead of sleeping, she would spend those nights watching Van breath. In and out. In and out. Each moment she was tense, waiting for the knife to split Van’s throat. She could always feel the warmth of fresh blood pooling in the sheets beneath her, her skin stained by more blood of someone she loved, another person she failed to save. The shadow crying. It sounded like a waterfall. She couldn’t keep going like this, without sleep, without food, without caring enough to want those things. The effort was too immense.

Romeo and Juliet used to be a comedy. Wasn’t it funny? Two kids fell in love, and they needed each other so deeply that they died for each other. Nora, aged sixteen, reading Shakespeare for class had laughed. That Nora hadn’t known love. She’d only known exploitation and rejection. That Nora was positive that no other person would have that power over her. And how long had those two star-crossed lovers known each other? Four days. Surely that wasn’t time enough to see your future with someone. To forget that life had been fine without them, and would be fine without them again. But Declan had changed a lot about how Nora saw the world. Twenty-three days had metamorphosed her from a caterpillar into a butterfly. The twenty-fourth day had pinned her into the wall. And now it had been twenty-four days since he’d died, and each day had been a knife slitting her throat, coating her in blood, a rainy day where she couldn’t breathe around the graves. Today would always mark a point where he’d be dead for longer than she’d known him. How could it still hurt this much when he’d been dead for longer than she’d known him. How was that right?

It was too much. She couldn’t do this anymore. She didn’t want to do this anymore. But she knew the grief of death, and each day that she held the dagger to her chest she knew what her Wicked’s Rest family would think if she killed herself on the alter next to her star-crossed lover. They would think they hadn’t done enough to keep her there. They would blame themselves for letting her out of their sight, when they knew she was hurting. They would think they weren’t enough and that she’d run away again. And these weren’t true, well, the running away part was true, but god was she good at running away. That wasn’t the point. She loved them. She owed them everything. There would never be enough words of thanks to express how much it meant to her that they were there. But it hurt. It just hurt too much to be this failure, to be this murderer, to be Nora.

So, she constructed a plan. She wouldn’t do it herself. She’d get a hunter to do it. Then they wouldn’t blame themselves. There wouldn’t be any thoughts whispering to them that they had let her down, that they hadn’t been enough, that she didn’t care about them. Instead, their thoughts would focus around the hunter. It would suck, but they would understand. Hunters had a job to do, protect humans. Hadn’t Nora proven that she was the exact type of beast they should be hunting? Wasn’t she twice a murderer now? So this would work. Unfortunately, she only knew one hunter.

Nora waited in the spot she’d chosen. The small clearing that she’d claimed as her training zone. The tree she’d beat up, the lake she’d spent hours swimming with Pascal and Teddy. Declan’s ashes sat on a picnic blanket, surrounded by two oil paintings she’d made of him. One of his smile, and one of his death. She wanted to die with him. That was it. Her only wish. She sat under the sun, losing herself in the water. Each ripple sent shivers of anticipation down her spine, as if Declan would emerge and be there. The shadow loomed behind her. “It should have been you.” It was the shadow’s favorite phrase. She heard it a thousand times a day now. Each time she said it back. “It should have been me.” 

They waited for the hunter to kill her. 

——

The anonymous message left in Kaden’s inbox was more than a little unusual. He didn’t think he had much of a reputation of being a hunter who, well, hunted. Not anymore, at least. And asking anonymously? It was strange, all of it. He was almost positive it was a trap of some sort. Who set it? Hard to say. It could be one of the pieces of shit threatening Monty and the farm, but, at the same time, he wouldn’t be surprised to see another hunter or two ready to tell him exactly what they thought about his pacifism. Given his family legacy and the shit his mother and sister were surely spreading about him, it was only a matter of time. Maybe it would be the family of someone he’d killed. Or a supernatural who just knew what he was and decided it was safer to eliminate him before he killed anyone else. 

Or hell, maybe it was exactly what it said on the tin — maybe there was a dangerous bugbear waiting for him in the woods. No matter who or what was waiting for him, Kaden hoped he wasn’t going to have to take a life tonight. That didn’t mean he wasn’t prepared for the alternative. His shotgun was strapped to his back, he had a pistol at his side, and plenty of knives to defend himself. It was probably a stupid move to have tranqs in the shotgun instead of shells but no one ever said he was the sharpest knife in the weapon’s chest.

When he reached the edge of the forest, only a little ways away from the spot in question, the hairs on his arm stood on edge. Well, there was a shifter nearby, if nothing else. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a werewolf but beyond that, it was hard to say. He walked into the brush, through the trees, and stalked towards the feeling sending a chill down his spine as quietly as he could. 

It was surreal to feel as if he was on an actual hunt, like some scene plucked from his past. Even so, it was easy to fall back into familiar patterns. He let his hunter senses guide him and guide him they did, right towards the sound of muttering — a voice. It was human or humanoid, that much he could tell. At least he wasn’t going to come face to face with a beast first thing. Well, he hoped. That didn’t stop him from reaching down to pull out his pistol, flipping off the safety so he was ready for whatever he found when he met up with the voice in question.

Creases in his forehead deepened as he crept closer. The voice became clearer and it was vaguely familiar though he couldn't place it immediately. What he could place was that they didn’t sound enraged or threatening. If anything, they sounded like a wounded animal, crying to themselves in the dark. 

It was tempting to lower the gun or at least flip the safety back on, but his mother’s voice rang in his ear, asking him if he was stupid enough to let down his guard so soon. He cursed her in his mind but she had a point so he kept it lowered, but ready to fire as he reached the corner, sure that whoever was waiting for him was on the other side. 

He hadn’t been at all prepared for who was waiting there for him.

”Nora?” he asked, flipping the safety back on before looking around to make sure they were alone, that no one else was waiting to make an appearance. “What are you doing here? There’s supposed to be a dangerous bugbear here and I know you don’t listen to a goddamn word I say but you need to—“

The words fell away as he absorbed the scene set in front of him. A picnic blanket. Paintings. And… was that an urn? “You,” he said, looking back at the kid sitting on the forest floor, somehow looking even more blank than usual. No, not blank, void. Like something had been siphoned away from her. “You’re the dangerous bugbear?”

Kaden tried to make out the subject matter of the paintings. Both seemed like they were of the same guy — one on the best day of his life and the other on his worst. At the very least, his last. He didn’t know what to make of them, of her, of any of it. “If this is some kind of prank…” The ranger couldn’t say what it was that made the rest of that sentence untouchable, but he could feel it all the same like a wall between them. “What’s going on?”

——

Nora. The name used to sting. It used to send knives bristling down her spine, left her hackles raised, and lit a spark in her that assured her she could throw down with anyone. Nora. No one had the right to use that name. Call to her like they knew her, because they had seen her on some show, in an ad, exploited for internet views. They didn’t know her. They would never know her. They didn’t get to put her name in their mouths and chew it with their mouths open, bits of bile flying everywhere. 

That was before Declan. Before his face had lit up when he learned her name and called it beautiful. Before her name meant she wasn’t a banshee and he could live. When her name was a promise of something better. She should keep hating her name, but now she clung to it. Grasped it in the hands that felt empty when they weren’t grasping at his ashes. Nora, because he loved it, she would love it. Nora, because when she heard it she could hear the echo of his voice repeating her name. Nora because it hurt to remember. 

The shotgun wasn’t pointed at her. She’d wanted this to be fast. She’d wanted him to walk up, gun prepped, ready. They had a history. They both knew she was a bugbear. They both knew she was a waste of space. They both wanted her gone. So why did he insist on talking? I know you don’t listen to a goddamn word I say. The shadow slapped her across the face with those words. It whispered in her ear and reminded her of every person she’d never listened to before. He was right. The Nora before this would have laughed at the sight of Kaden with a gun. ‘What are you going to do, shoot me?’ She would have mocked. Her illusions would have giggled around him while monsters reached out of shadows at him. Now she stared with blank eyes, wishing his gun was pointed at her. 

“Me. I’m the dangerous bugbear.” Maybe she should have tried harder to look more dangerous. Shifted into her bear, given the hunter a pelt he could brag over, instead of the corpse of a pathetic girl. But the bear was out of reach. It sulked under the shadow. The lack of food, the disinterest in fear, maybe those were why she couldn’t switch into her bear, but she couldn’t bring herself to care enough to fix it. She just wanted the pain to stop. She wanted to disappear. 

“It’s not a prank.” There had never been emotion in her monotone, but this was still a drastic change. Devoid instead of neutral. “I’ve killed.” Declan. Debbie.. Maybe the trend belonged to people whose names started with a d and e. Or was it only a trend if it happened three times? It didn’t matter. The cycle, the trend, whatever it was, it ended here. “You’re a hunter. Emilio told me.” There was no point in secrets. There had been that moment with Nanook, where Kaden had walked in and the tension coming from Emilio was palpable. It was explained later that he was a hunter. Maybe he told Kaden that he’d told Nora. Maybe Nora wasn’t supposed to out him. Maybe this was a breach of trust against Emilio. Another reason for her to go. Another failure on her part. The words flew around her head, an attack from the inside out. She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t live with the constant pain tearing her into bits, ripping and shredding. She just wanted it to end.

It was a moment. Nora took a deep breath. She steadied herself. “And I’m a bugbear. So hunt.” She looked back out into the water, into the ripple that at any moment could reveal Declan swimming out from underneath. That’s what she wanted to see, for her last moment. Not Kaden, the zoo nudist. But the life she was so close to getting. Her body was open. Her weapons were left in the crypt. Notes that didn’t sound like goodbye were hidden under her cot. It would be okay. 

——

Kaden stood still, looking down at her. This may have been the first time since he met her that she’d let him have any sort of advantage over her. No matter what he did, whatever move he made or whatever he tried to do, he could never win with her. She always had the upper hand somehow, some way. It was infuriating. 

But now, looking down at her, holding the winning hand, the last thing it felt like was a victory. There was nothing to celebrate, nothing to feel good about. Not while she looked like that. He searched for any sort of clue from her, anything that might reveal what the hell was going on. All he found was emptiness, a black hole that revealed nothing but an unending void. 

At least, that’s what he thought it was at first. No, it wasn’t a black hole, not a void, not some all consuming emptiness consuming everything around it. No, it wasn’t any of that. It was just a deep deep well. It was hard to see, he almost missed it, but there was a bottom to it. And something lingered there all the way at the very bottom. He had a few guesses — despair, loneliness, sadness, anger, all came to mind — but the true shape was still obscured. Not entirely surprising. Nora didn’t exactly broadcast her emotions to the world. At least, not to him. 

He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be easy to pry anything out of her. If he were smart, he would just turn around and leave, refuse to help and leave her to her own devices. He couldn’t do that, though. He couldn’t leave her alone like this. Whatever was going on, he had to at least try to help. 

“I’ve killed, too,” he said with a shrug as he started to pack the shotgun away, slinging it back over his shoulder. “If you’re a dangerous bugbear, prove it. Fight me. See who kills who.” 

Kaden wasn’t concerned about her taking him up on the offer. She wouldn’t feel any fear radiating off of him. Not about that. If she paid attention, tuned into her senses, she might smell the smallest drop of fear: the fear that he would fail her here. 

And he might, he very well might fail her. But he wasn’t going to fight her, he knew that much. So he started taking the weapons off his back, dropping them to the ground away from them both. If she wanted him to kill her, it would have to be a fight. A fair one. Or maybe it was unfair without his weapons. He didn’t care. There was no way he was killing a kid point blank. 

——

The gun never cocked, the bullet never lodged itself into her head, the relief of oblivion didn’t wash over her. It had to be a weird portrait. Nora sitting facing the water, surrounded by her fucked up picnic items, a man with a gun behind her. It was the scene from an old classic book, maybe written by Kafka because he understood the nihilism of it all, or Hemmingway but he’d been talented enough to shoot himself. Instead, she was met with a declaration and a challenge. “You shouldn’t brag about killing people.” She turned to look behind her, his shotgun was put up. “I guess it’s okay for a hunter. That’s your job, right? To kill? You’re a bad hunter. You have the opening. And I don’t think you’re supposed to challenge me when you have the upper hand.” 

That was the most she’d said in one sitting for days, but she was in disbelief. This was supposed to be the end of her journey. The day the pain stopped. It didn’t matter that he was in heaven and she was going to hell because she didn’t deserve to be reunited with him. He deserved a safe afterlife, without the remembrance of dying for her every time he looked. But hell would still be better than this life without him. 

Nora turned fully, a movement that exhausted her to her core. Her body was weak from lack of care, it had taken all her energy to hike out here today, to die in the spot that she chose. She sighed, long deep, and laboring. “You’re a hunter.” She repeated because he needed a reminder apparently. “Hunt.” It was a statement, a plea, a cry. It was nothing in her monotone. She tried to find an illusion inside of her, something to conjure to scare him, something to prove to him without a doubt that she was the bugbear he already knew she was. Nothing flickered into existence. The effort exhausted her more, and she already had suitcases under her eyes. “Please.” 

——

You’re a bad hunter.

Not so long ago, that phrase might have cut him to his core. It was the sort of thing that Kaden’s mother and sister always implied but never said outright. An unspoken disappointment that lingered on him throughout his life. No matter how hard he tried, how hard he worked, he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t a good enough hunter. Back then, he thought it was just about training more, doing better, taking down more monsters. But it was never that. It was that knot twisted up in the pit of his stomach that he could never quite ignore, the one that made him question things, the little voice in the back of his mind that wondered if killing was wrong. The spark that he never managed to snuff out no matter how hard he tried. 

“You’re right,” he said as he huffed out a laugh. “I’m a shitty hunter.” The phrase was something altogether different now. He hadn’t quite shaken off all the shame that had built around him over years but even so, there was a twinge of pride somewhere buried deep inside him when she said it all the same. 

“You managed to call the one ranger in town who makes a point of not killing shifters.” Kaden was a bad hunter. He was a ranger who didn’t want to kill anyone he didn’t have to and he was of the opinion that most of the time, he didn’t have to. But he was determined to find another way to be a hunter, to help people. He may not subscribe to the Langley family code anymore but that didn’t mean he wasn’t writing his own. 

Funny that the first time he ran into her, that’s what he was trying to pen. He was trying to put words onto paper, to solidify what the hell he believed when he wasn’t sure what the hell that was yet. Kaden had a feeling this encounter would do more to help guide his way forward than any of the bullshit he wrote down that day in the coffee shop.

That didn’t mean he knew what the fuck to do. Leaving felt wrong and looming over her was getting uncomfortable in its own way — like it might lead her to believe that he could kill her at any moment, that maybe he would. He wasn’t going to and he wanted to shatter the illusion. He walked past her, off to the side of her picnic blanket, and took a seat a little way away from it. He wasn’t in her space but he wasn’t leaving her on her own like this either. 

“Did you really think the only reason I didn’t go after you was because of Emilio?” He added a little scoff. Maybe it was stupid to antagonize her by making fun of Cortez in this situation, but maybe it would knock her out of whatever godforsaken headspace she’d found herself in. “If I actually gave a shit, he wouldn’t be able to stop me.” It was a horrifying thought. Mostly because he knew that the reverse was the same. If Emilio gave a shit about going after Monty or Mack or Alex, he would be hard pressed to stop it. In the wrong time, the wrong place, he wouldn’t be able to do much. 

The hum of insects and the whispers of waves filled the silence that stretched between them. Kaden kept his eyes on the water, watching the surface shift with subtle gestures. “Almost drowned a couple of weeks ago,” he said, eyes remaining fixed forward. He waited for a quip or a jab that never came. It was unsettling. “Nyx found out I was a hunter. Decided to give me what I deserved for killing people.” Kaden’s fingers brushed the ground, looking for something to do with his hands, and found a smooth stone. “I was going to let her. Tried to. Got interrupted.” He turned the rock over in his hand and considered tossing it into the lake. Probably would be good for skipping if he had any clue how to do that. “So I can’t emphasize enough that you called the worst ranger for the job.”

——

Kaden laughed, and the gruff noise was a snare in the silence. Kaden laughed, and it was the melody to a song Nora heard once but couldn’t quite remember. Kaden laughed, and it was a reminder that the birds still sang and the sun still rose, and for some people life was still okay. It was the first laugh she'd heard in the weeks since, and it caused her to pause, turning to face the person that such a noise could emanate from. It hadn't mattered what words had accompanied the laugh, it had been a laugh. Nora examined him, the color of his skin patched with dirt and scratches from a life in nature, the small amounts of grime under his fingernails, the tear in his plaid shirt, the gun worn where years of fingers held it but clean from good care, the slight tangle to hair that had been brushed that morning but the wind had moved it, the bags under his eyes, the laugh that hadn't been happy, but it had expressed something deeper in him that she'd ever seen before. The pride that had touched his words, I'm a shitty hunter.

Kaden laughed, and he was no longer the town fool, he was just a man. 

Was this where he thought his life was going to go? When he was raised a ranger, did he think there would come a day where a shifter would ask to be killed, and he'd say no? Did he think he'd be happy to be shitty at hunting, or had that always been the goal? Had he always wanted to be something more than the life laid out for him? Kaden was just a man, but he'd lived a life that Nora had no context to. Before, he'd been a joke. Someone to bother and bully and berate, but right before her eyes, with a single phrase, he'd morphed into a complete person. And that hurt. It hurt in the way that recalling your childish emotions and mistakes can. It hurt to see how wrong and stupid she’d been about someone before this moment. It hurt in the way that laughed at her, because she'd learned compassion, and all it had taken was losing the one person that meant everything to her. 

Emilio. She wished Kaden hadn't brought him up. Nora had thought there would be an unspoken understanding between the hunter and the prey. The ranger would get his kill, and he'd never mention to the slayer that had once stood between the two of them that he had killed her. That had been before she knew he was a shitty hunter. Did Emilio know that? When they were in the car, and he'd told her not to mess with Kaden because he was a ranger? Was he only calm then, because he knew Kaden wasn't a killer? She had listened, in the car, she'd listened as Emilio told her to be careful, but she hadn't listened. She'd gone on to keep bullying him, egging the ranger on. Because what was he going to do? Kill her? She'd doubted he could catch her. Turns out, she'd been right about one thing. That didn't stop the disappointment from seeping in now. 

Nora watched as Kaden took a seat, far but near, a mockery of the last dinner because none of the other guests showed up. It would be a weird picnic to anyone who walked by. Not that anyone traveled here. This was her spot. Out of the way and hidden. Solitary. The way she thought life was supposed to be lived, the way she'd wanted to live. Once. Before she'd become a different person.

"Maybe I should tell the nyx I've killed." The image she'd spent so long getting lost in shifted. Instead of Declan emerging from rippling water, now it was a nyx. But Nora had never seen a nyx before. She didn't know what they were supposed to be, much less look like. So she made it up, it was a mix of Gill from Kim Possible, and her. This was the Black Lagoon, and she was the creature. Frilled gills, webbed fingers, and bloodied teeth. Her monstrous nyx form would drag her under the waves and end it. Pain rippled through her. She couldn't keep living like this. She couldn't move with these anchors pulling her down. 

Kaden held a stone between his fingers, and for a moment Nora could see Declan transposed over him. The way they checked the smoothness of the rock, the moment it was let go and skipped across the water. She wished she'd gotten to take him here, to her spot, to skip rocks here. There wasn't a waterfall, but that would be okay. She was tired of wishing. She was drowning in them. They made up the anchors that held her down. They scraped her knees and scratched her lungs. They fed the shadow that hovered over her shoulder. "You're the only ranger I know." She whispered, a plea wrapped in an explanation. "Why don't you kill?" 

—

“Maybe,” Kaden mused. As he looked out at the water, he could almost see a ghost of the scene that had played out a few weeks ago. It hadn’t happened here and it had looked very different then from his perspective, but he could see it all the same. The gilled humanoid sea creature, talons piercing his shoulder as she dragged him through the dirt and mud into the cold, unforgiving waters. He couldn’t tell how he felt about it all, not yet. The emotions that stirred around the situation refused to settle, like oil mixed with the very water he was staring into. “Sounded like she was only after hunters, though.” 

It hadn’t occurred to him all that deeply before that moment. She had made sure he was a hunter, not anything else. She didn’t even care what kind. Not unlike the people she was trying to kill. So many rangers didn’t care what kind of shifter they were killing, as long as they were taking down something “dangerous.” Whether they were or weren’t a danger was rarely factored. “And she was pretty shaken up. May be done with the whole vengeance thing. At least for now.” Truthfully, he didn’t know what she was up to one way or the other. As much as she’d tried to reach out, he had held out an arm’s length, unsure of how to approach her past that distance. Maybe with time he’d figure that out.  

Why don’t you kill? 

A loaded goddamn question if he ever heard one. “A lot of reasons,” he said, watching the rings rippling out from a leaf that had fallen onto the lake’s surface. He didn’t know where to begin explaining this. He didn’t really know all the reasons, had never sat down and quantified them, articulated them. 

Right. Of course he hadn’t. Because all the little reasons might have stacked up on top of one another, but there was only one thing that had sent the tower tumbling, shattering it to pieces on the ground. “Maybe only one that matters.” Damien. The one person who had changed his life forever. All because he was absent from it. 

Their breaths filled the air rhythmically as they sat on the shore, and Kaden could hear their heartbeats thumping along with them. But he didn’t hear panic, didn’t hear adrenaline, he heard something more strangled, slow. Like something was clamped tight around her heart, trying like hell to hold something back, hold it in. Because she couldn’t let it go. “I lost someone.” The words were left floating out in the open with no life preserver for a beat or so. “Werewolf,” he added after a while. Right, maybe he should say a little more than just one word if he was trying to paint any sort of picture. “They were a werewolf. And I—” The rest of the story got stuck in his throat, tightened and choked up. His fingers ran along the surface of the stone, like it was some kind of talisman that could soothe or, at the very least, stall whatever emotions were bubbling to the surface. “I didn’t kill him. But I was there.” 

A million other sentences lived in that phrase. He hadn’t stopped it. He had to watch it happen. He’d been powerless. If nothing else, he’d felt powerless. He may not have been holding the knife, but he caused this all the same. He led his sister to Damien, even if unintentionally. He was covered in the blood of the one person he’d cared about more than anything and it never really washed away. It wasn’t there physically, but it stained his skin even now. It always would. 

The guilt lingered with it, seeping into the things in his life that were good, trying to dull and discredit them. He only had what he’d found in Wicked’s Rest at the expense of Damien’s life. And if he thought about it too much, he would never leave this spot on the shore. He never would have left that apartment that night. He’d be stuck there forever, sure that it was better that way, that he didn’t deserve goodness, happiness, any of it. 

So it was a good thing he carried Damien with him, too. It was a good thing he knew his best friend well enough to know he would be the first person pushing him out of that door, dragging him kicking and screaming, and insisting that Kaden lived. Even when that was hard to remember, even when he wanted to fold in on himself, and even at night when the nightmares came. In reality, it was Monty or Shadow or Alex who woke him from the nightmares the majority of the time, but Damien’s hand was there, too, pulling him out of the dark. Everytime. That’s just who he was. He never dwelled in toxic spaces, not when there were so many other places to go, things to see, things to do.

There were so much more to tell her, mountains more to the story, depths and crevices to dig into. But she wasn’t one for long drawn out conversations. He knew that much even if he didn’t know her well. Kaden had one thing to add. “I didn’t like watching it.”

—

"Shame." It shouldn't be a shame. Not that the nyx only went after hunters, and not that hunter didn't go after shapeshifters. It shouldn't be a shame that the continuation of her life was an inevitable truth because she couldn't get someone to make it look like an accident. At what point of unbearable pain did it become humane to put down the sufferer? At which moment was it understandable to diagnose this sadness as terminal? Or was this just life? Eventually she'd go numb to the pain, a constant reminder, a forever companion, the shadow always over her shoulder whispering her affirmations in her ear when no one was around. It should have been you, it should have been me, the call and response that would slide off her tongue in any moment the shadow deemed fit. Her heart would have to learn how to beat in pieces. 

"It would be nice if no one killed." That was the dumbest statement she could have made. The world was full of violence. Death cults sacrificed humans to break their unturned banshees. Houses blew up. Werewolves were murdered. Hunters died on supermarket floors. Blood never really washed out. "It'd be easier. If none of us killed." Wasn't she part of the problem? In the space of a year her death count had moved from zero to two. Next year would it be four? Nora pulled her knees to her chin. There was no danger to wait for anymore, no moment of relief would wash over her, she wouldn't be free today. Without the threat of an impending gun wound, Nora picked up Declan's ashes, wrapping them up in her, as her arms moved around her, seeking some sort of comfort. 

Kaden was settled in. Another in a list of people who wouldn't leave, who cared what happened, who she didn't deserve. They had all been right, to not leave her alone, to check in on her, to give her excuses to come over. Look at her. A moment alone, a day of peace and quiet, and she was trying to orchestrate her own death in a way that they'd never know she was behind it. She was the biggest mistake of the century. She should be thankful for Kaden, for the second chance his refusal gave her, a new chance to change her perspective. But it hurt too much right now. Gratitude was a missing emotion. 

It was kind of Kaden to answer her questions. Wasn't it shocking? To wake up one day and realize the world was full of kind people who would stop to talk by a rock by the road, and a boulder by a lake? That they'd come uninvited to a pity party, and instead of making off with the snacks, they'd sit down and join? Where had they been in her childhood? Where were they when each comment tagging her was a criticism of her appearance, or a judgment of who she was without ever meeting her? Would those anonymous profiles turn into kind faces when logged out? Would her walls constructed to barricade herself from the barrage of vitriol and hate exist? Would she'd have felt the need to bully first, so they'd have a reason to hate her? Would she have been a kinder person if she hadn't grown up in the court of public opinion, or if those kind people had been the overwhelming voices in the comment sections? Or even if she'd been fully human and understood who she was and her place in the world? But these were all ifs ands or buts, nothing could change that hadn't already been done Each day they were living in the consequences of what was. The only thing she could do was fix what would be, but that was hard. It was a daunting task that mocked her. 

Was Kaden born kind, or did he only learn his kindness when faced with the only reason that mattered? I didn't kill him. But I was there. I didn't like watching.

Declan's throat was a red flower blooming open before her, the last gift to lovers parted. His blood was a warm blanket covering her, the last embrace shared between them. His fear was sweetened the air, the last taste. With Kaden's word's, Nora was back in that moment. She didn't kill him. But she was there. She didn't like watching. It might not have been her blade that sliced him open, but the blame still fell on her. She wondered if Kaden felt the same way. A rogue tear, unsanctioned and unwanted, streaked down her cheek. "I'm sorry." She whispered, her voice cracking on the words, because that's who she was now. Someone who cried, and couldn't keep emotion from seeping into her voice. "I didn't like watching either."

—

“Yeah. That’d be nice.” Her words were so simple but cut so goddamn true. It would be nice if no one killed. It would be easier. Kaden couldn’t agree more. He didn’t want to kill. He didn’t want to do that again. And yet his hands had been covered with blood that night on the farm. He could rationalize it: they were monsters that killed animals; it was them or his family; if he hadn’t killed them, someone else on the farm would. They were fine reasons, nothing too out of line, but they didn’t make it feel better. They didn’t lessen the weight of the bodies piled onto his back, added to the ones he carried around with him day in and day out. “Only thing to do is try not to be one of those people. The ones who kill. I guess.” It wasn’t sage wisdom by any means but that’s not what anyone came to him for. It was what he had so it would have to be enough.

She didn’t like watching either. The words echoed in his mind. So that was it, then? She’d seen death. Real death. The death of someone important. Up close and inevitable. Kaden heard the waver in her voice and he wanted to spin to look at her, to offer some sort of comfort. He couldn’t hide the impulse, the flinch of movement before he stopped himself, kept his eyes trained ahead. He could only hope she didn’t see it. He worked with enough animals to know the myriad of ways to coax them out of whatever hole they burrowed themselves into. Skittish, stubborn, scared, angry, you name it, he’d seen it. With all of them, the key was to be calm, steady, and still. It made them more likely to feel safe and secure. It built a bridge of trust. It signaled that, in their panic, you were something steadfast to hold onto. That was the method Kaden was clinging to now. Especially since he had a feeling that food motivation wasn’t the best angle in this particular situation. Not that he didn’t have it in his back pocket if the need arose. There were plenty of pies at the cabin if push came to shove.

For now, though, for now he sat on the ground and stared off in the distance, listening and holding space, but waiting. Steady and still. “It sucks,” he said after taking a deep breath, allowing himself to remain in that steadfast state. “I’m sorry you can relate.”

He let the words linger on the night wind for a moment or two longer. He had about a hundred questions for her. He could easily make this an interrogation but that wouldn’t help any. Never did, really. You couldn’t interrogate the cat out of the tree so it didn’t really matter how it got up there in the first place. Nevermind that cats were terrible conversationalists. 

“Why here?” It seemed like the safest question Kaden could ask. That’s what he hoped, at least. Asking why she wanted him to kill her was too much. So was wondering what each item strewn about meant. And asking what the hell happened would be akin to shoving her right into the lake to drown. Kaden could barely talk about the incident with his sister and his best friend and he surely had seen more death than she had. He’d lived longer and he was a hunter on top of it. If he felt like crumbling under the weight, he could hardly pile that onto her shoulders. “Why did you want to be here when I showed up?” 

—

“I think it's too late. For that. I mean." Once you killed someone, that was it. A life was taken out of this world, despite the time still left on the clock. You couldn't go back on that. Murderer the label stained the skin like the blood it spilled. That was it. There was no born again solution that would wash away the stains and the label, and reset the timeline. The family wouldn't get their loved ones back. Did Debbie's parents feel the same way Nora felt now when she never returned home? Did life weigh them down? Did they try to orchestrate their own deaths? Did they cry every morning when they woke up from dreams of her face? 

For a moment Kaden tensed. His muscles rippled like he was ready to move, but it was brief. A blink and she would have missed it. She pretended to miss it. He remained the second statue next to Nora's small lake. Picturesque, wasn't it? Two statues. Two memorials to deaths they did not want to see, carrying the grief of loss with them as they stood vigil over the lakes edge. People wrote poetry books about this stuff, but Nora hated words. Poetry was fluff and scribbles. It meandered around points and compared grief to ocean waves. Just another thing she couldn't understand until the worst day of her life. 

Why here? Nora looked down at Declan in her arms, over at her picnic, the portraits of Declan on the checkered blanket, the tree where she'd spent hours practicing with a knife, the lake where she swam with Teddy and Pascal. The well behind her eyes started to fill again. What harm was there in answering a question? He'd answered her's. It was only fair. "This is a good place for me." Teddy had shown her Big Finn here. Babadook had sunbathed while she read books here. Munch had talked for hours while Nora painted here. "I like the memories I have here. I thought it'd be a good place for my last one."

Nora let silence regain its footing. It swelled between them, closing the distance. Leaves rustled, animal life walked by, the pond rippled. In another life, Kaden shot Nora and her blood stained the string of fate between them. In this timeline, grief wrapped them in separate bundles. "How did you keep going?"

—

Too late. Kaden often thought that it was too late for him to change, past the point of no return. He knew better than most that you couldn’t put life back once you’d taken it. He couldn’t undo what he’d done. “Doesn’t mean you have to do it again. Or that you can’t move past it.” He didn’t know how much of that he was saying for her to hear or for himself. It wasn’t something he entirely believed, he couldn’t feel it deep down in his bones. He barely had a grip on the idea if he was being honest. Monty had told him as much, though, more or less. And maybe he didn’t believe himself but he did believe his partner. At least that much he could hold onto. He didn’t know if telling Nora that would help her grab onto it any tighter but it was worth a shot.

In the same vein, he tried to hold onto her words, the answer to his question. This was a good place. “Can’t blame you,” he said, giving the wider view of the area a longer appreciation. “It’s a nice spot.” It was isolated but not in a way that felt abandoned or eerie. There was the water and the trees behind them. He could imagine coming out here to make memories. “See I thought maybe it was because you thought it would be easier for me to drag the body into the lake.” He dared to glance over to her, a twinge of a smile on his face. He didn’t know if they had reached the point in the conversation where it was okay to make a joke or two but he had to hope. “Still, not a bad place for your last. You’ll have to keep that in mind a few decades from now.” Because it wouldn’t be today. Not if he had any say in the matter. Which, for once in his life, it seemed like he did.

Kaden thought that might have been the end of the conversation, that they would wait in the quiet there until she was ready to move, whenever that was. He didn’t mind the idea, there were worse places to be and worse people to be around. Confusion covered his face when she spoke again. He hadn’t expected it and he wasn’t sure he had the answer, either. His face scrunched up as he tried to find one.

Truth be told, he ran. That was how he kept going. He left himself and his life behind as much as he could. “Well I crossed the Atlantic Ocean for one. Guess you checked that box.” Running wasn’t really the best suggestion here and now, though. Running for her would just mean she was alone. She would be running away from the people who cared about her, the people who were here. Kaden hadn’t run from the people who cared for him, though. No, when he ran, it was towards something as much (if not more than) away from his past. 

“Andy and Alex,” he added after a stretch of thought. “Then I met Monty. And Mack. And a whole network of people who—“ Kaden realized there was a word for that. “Family, I guess.” He paused, remembering that his family was exactly who he was fleeing. No, not quite. “Real family. Not necessarily relatives.” Sometimes they were the same. sometimes they weren’t. As much as he still cared about his mother and sister, he knew their love had conditions. If nothing else, their support did. And he didn’t fit into their box anymore. Nor did he want to. It always stung to remember them, to feel the shame of being outcast and unwanted, but it was more akin to a papercut than a gaping wound. 

“Some days are better than others,” he said with a shrug. “And sometimes I think that…” He didn’t even complete the sentence in his mind, sighing instead as he tried to find better words. “I ended up with a lot of good things here. Not sure how. And I hate that it was in some way because of— That it was in place of his life. Like some kind of fucked up exchange.” It was almost impossible to reconcile and most days, if he thought about it, he couldn’t manage. “But hating it doesn’t bring him back. And he’d kick my ass if I wasted my life just because he’s not here.” It was more than he meant to say, maybe more than he wanted to share, but it spilled out anyway. “He always told me not to waste a good day doing something dull.” A smile flickered onto his face as his eyes fogged over for a split second. The idiot thought every day was a good day. Though, when Damien was around, it was hard for Kaden to argue. Another thing he should try to hold onto. 

—

Each death at Nora's hand had been unintentional. The day at the grocery store was supposed to be a fun trip with a friend. She hadn't wanted to kill a hunter, but the hunter had taken the choice out of her hands. It wasn't right to say that it was Debbie's fault the blade lodged into her skull, but it wasn't wrong to say that if Debbie had walked away that night, instead of attacking five girls in a grocery store, she would still be alive. Declan, well, she was supposed to save him. She'd promised to save him. She hadn't known while packed into that suitcase what she was getting into. She hadn't listened as everyone told her how dangerous Ireland was, and that banshees were not to be underestimated. She hadn't realized that there were ways to break people that weren't physical while Regan was warning her. She never would have guessed it would revolve around a guy. Because that's all Declan was. He was just a guy, but somehow he'd managed to become her everything. How was that fair? How did that circle around to "Doesn't mean you have to do it again." When she never wanted to do it in the first place. And if she moved past it wouldn't that be a betrayal of his memory? Didn't Declan and Debbie deserved to be carried on her shoulder for the rest of her life? An atonement for what she did to them? "Maybe." Was all Nora said. 

Kaden approved of the clearing, and why wouldn't he. Nora wouldn't spend her last moments someplace lame, not by choice. Not unless the time came where someone else was forced to take her life, without any intention from her. Because that was the circle of life, right? He made a joke, and it shocked her in the moment. It broke the glass of grief around her and pulled her from her self-absorption to look at him. A smile pulled at the edge of his lips. The smile fell into the lines on his face, a face that had aged and would keep aging, and she realized that despite this grief, he still had smile lines. "I didn't think about the lake." She didn't have it in her to joke, not yet, but she wanted to. She didn't reject the joke, she didn't scowl or pull away from it, but she didn't rise to it. She let it exist between them, and that was okay with her. "I guess that's why you're the hunter and I'm the bugbear." 

Kaden's guide to getting over it:

Step one: Cross the Atlantic Ocean.  ✔ Step two: Family. 

Her thoughts went to Van. Van had been ecstatic when she came home. The contact had been constant. Her friend had been warm and alive and cried, but she always cried. It was the messages Van spent to make sure Nora was okay, even though her house had blown up, and at the same time trying to make sure Cass was okay. How she didn’t get angry at Nora for not being good enough to help, because she understood the weight of grief. They went to Emilio who sat with her on the couch. Who offered her reasons to come over so she wouldn’t be alone. Who split a meal drink with her, because he understood that food was hard and giving up was easy. How he told her about his grief in quiet words meant to comfort, because he didn’t want her to be alone. He never had to do that. Not from the moment he found her alone in a graveyard, and not then. Then she thought of Wynne. The roller coaster they’d gone through.They had gone through a lot to end up where they were, and they weren’t mad at Nora that day outside the house. They asked for dinner together. They said see you around. They had given her a warm hug. 

Step two: Family. ✔

Step three: Some days are better than others. 

Some days are better than others. Some days it rains and it washes the first down, and it makes everything heavy and dark and hurt too much to get out of bed. Somedays were a 9 on the Bloodworth scale and she should have called her friends for that party so they could hold her hair. Today was worse than others. Today it rained. Today was a 9. Today was a reminder of too much, and once again she had run away, she’d hid behind the promise to never talk about what happened, she had self-destructed instead of seeking help. And Kaden was right. Hating it doesn’t bring him back. Declan wouldn’t kick her ass, she knew without doubt that Declan was gentle and never got the chance to learn anything else. But maybe, just maybe, he meant it when he said he would have died for her, and maybe, just maybe, he didn’t hate her for breaking her promise to save him. 

Step three: Some days are better than others.

Not checked. Not today. But maybe tomorrow she’d be an 8 and the rain would be a sprinkle and the day would be a tiny bit better. But she had to do something. She had to change something. She had to keep from breaking the moment she felt fragile, she had to try, for her family, for the strangers who stop to talk to rocks, and for the hunters who didn’t want to kill. “Tomorrow is going to be better than today,” Nora told Kaden. It didn’t matter that the tears were free-flowing. It didn’t matter that he could see them. Nothing mattered today, because today hurt. But tomorrow is going to be better than today. 

—

Kaden wasn’t sure if he’d said the right thing. He rarely felt like he did but usually it didn’t matter that much. It mattered now. At least he was pretty sure it did. His words probably weren’t the most important ones she’d hear, but that didn’t mean they had no effect. At least the joke wasn’t thrown in the trash or taken like a stab in the gut. That was something. Right? She was quiet for a long while. He didn’t know if it was a good quiet or a bad one but he did know he wasn’t going to interrupt it. The silence was hers to break. 

When she finally spoke, the hunter risked a glance over to the shifter. Her face was wet, her cheeks were red and so were her eyes, and she wasn’t doing anything to hide it. It was a kind of pain that he was too familiar with, the kind you couldn’t hold back or mask even when you wanted to bottle it up and toss it away. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, but he wasn’t going to comment on it, either. It was her moment to have — a wave she had to ride out to avoid being pulled under the water. “Tomorrow is going to be better than today,” he repeated, turning back to face the water. 

The wind in the branches, the shuffle of the leaves, and the small splashes of water on the shore sounded like a symphony in the silence between them. It might have been nice if not for the heaviness surrounding them. He was happy to let it stretch on even then. “Whenever you’re ready to leave, I can help you carry things home. Least I can do since I didn’t even kill you,” he said, catching sight of her items surrounding her. Her hands must have been full carting all of this out here. And if he was correct, her arms were wrapped around an urn. He could guess it was the only thing she wanted to hold at the moment — or at least the closest thing to that she could get. His voice dropped to a whisper as he added, “No rush. Whenever you’re ready.” Like he noted before, he had plenty of time and there were worse places to be. Unexpectedly, there were worse people to be there with, too.

[carrionxcamille]

Bucket Full of Eyes | Camille & Kaden

TIMING: Beginning of Ever Leering Sea (https://wickedsrest-rp.tumblr.com/post/619562038709141504/the-residents-of-white-crest-have-long-since) LOCATION: Traveler’s Rest PARTIES: @carrionxcamille and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Camille takes it upon herself to call animal control when there’s a ‘rat’ problem at the motel. Things don’t quite go as expected.

There were days Kaden was pretty sure people confused Animal Control with a pest control service. But the call about the very very large rat at the Traveler’s Rest sounded to him like a monster case if he ever heard one. A rat the size of a small dog? Last seen nibbling on a severed finger? Could be an agropelter. Or something worse that he’d never heard of. Cage in hand, net and a knife or two with him and ready to go, he started wandering the grounds, looking for any signs or tracks. It was hard to find rat shit in this shit hole, it was pretty much nothing but shit. He was inspecting the ground for anything remotely helpful when the door nearby swung open, revealing a woman with a bucket in her hands. “Sorry, just animal control. Not a--” A what? A murder? A creepy guy? Right. Kaden let the sentence fall flat and stood up. And took a closer look at the bucket in question. “Uh, are those eyeballs? In a bucket?”

When Camille had rocked up to the motel she knew it was cheap as chips for a reason. Minimal services, thin mattresses, poor water pressure. She could cope with that. It wasn’t pleasant, but she could deal. What she wasn’t going to ignore was a giant rat eating a finger. As if she needed more vivid horrors to keep her up at night. The murderous husband and vampire neighbors were plenty, so she found a number and called animal control. Once that was taken care of she turned to task number two of the day- honestly calling animal control first was just a way to put it off- pulling on a pair of rubber gloves and scooping eyeballs out of her sink into a waiting bucket.

A seriously grim task. God, she hated this town. Now she didn’t know if the police or plumbers or whoever were going to come up with some proper disposal method for these things, but Camille really couldn’t cope with them in her room, so she was just going to take the bucket outside. Where the animal control guy happened to be with perfect timing, because her life wasn’t bad enough. “Oh, great. That was fast. Uh- yeah…” Okay okay think fast, how could she explain this? “They... came out of the tap.” Perfect.

Kaden narrowed his eyes at her, keeping them fixed on the bucket. That was a lot of eyeballs. Granted, one singular severed eyeball was too many fucking severeed eyeballs. “The tap? You’re really telling me a bucket full of eyeballs came out of the tap? That’s not--” Alright, there were a lot of things that happened in this town that weren’t possible, even by supernatural standards. Something about this still seemed off. “You’re the one who called in the rat? A Ms…” He paused to look at the notes he’d scribbled from the report to bring with him. “Hawkins, right? That you?” he asked, giving her a good look up and down. “I heard something about a really big rat. Where was the last place you saw it?” 

Camille was really going to have to get her identity all straightened out as soon as possible. Telling the animal control guy her real name wasn’t such a big deal- it had slipped out, she was panicking and staring at a sink full of eyeballs- but she’d need proper ID for a flat, and she was really getting sick of being referred to as Hawkins. “Well- okay I know it’s a lot but when I saw it I freaked out and forgot to turn the tap back off.” She nodded, hoping to dismiss the topic. “Yup. Huge rat.” She grabbed at the bottom of a rubber glove to start peeling it off, but then she remembered the strange mark on her hand and also the finger eating rat- “y’know, I’m gonna keep these on for a moment. I’ll take you to where I spotted it.”

She grabbed her room key and locked the door behind her, starting off down the pathway, “it was eating a finger. Like I know rats are scavengers, but that’s really creepy.” Camille rounded the corner into the courtyard, pointing to a dark corner by the bins, “it was over there.”

So she was really sticking to the tap bit, huh? Kaden was about to believe her, because really, who made that sort of thing up? Then he watched as she decided to leave her rubber gloves on and the doubt came flooding back. “What, afraid to touch something around here?” Granted, alright, maybe that was valid, looking around the place. Still, he’d have to keep an eye on her. For what, he wasn’t sure. Yet. He followed behind her, looking for any more traces of the animal he could find. “Eating a finger, huh?” Didn’t sound much like a rat. There were a number of monsters that could easily fit the description. It could even be some White Crest special he’d never seen yet. Like mime spiders. “It wasn’t black and white was it?” That was stupid. He pulled out his flashlight to get a better look in the corner, see what might be there. “Uh, never mind. I meant what color was it? Anything else you can tell me?”

Look, there was a list a mile long of things Camille had to worry about. Frankly the animal control guy thinking she was a little weird was not going to rank high on that list, despite how often other peoples’ perceptions had been her biggest problem in the past. “I am afraid to touch everything. There’s a reason I called animal control instead of waiting for any of the staff to do it.” She pointed out, gesturing vaguely to the general disarray of the place. Seriously. She’d gone from a beautiful, clean, well decorated home- to this. It was cruel. “Black and white? Wha-” you know what, she didn’t even want to get into it. “No. Like-- grey, mostly. Kinda- almost looked greenish, but I think that was the light. Or it rolled in grass or something. It had really big eyes.”

“Right. Sure. So how’d you end up here of all places?” Kaden’s mouth pulled into a thin line as he shined the light over to the bins and what not. There were some droppings. Huge ones for a rodent. Which could have been a good sign if the potential size of this rat wasn't completely alarming. He set down the gear he’d been carrying and pulled out a net before slowly walking over towards the spot in question. “Greenish? A fucking greenish rat? Okay.” Sounded more and more like a monster problem than an animal one to him. “Are you sure it was a rat and not anything… else?” It was always hard to know who knew about the supernatural. It was never something he wanted to assume or say first, but it was so much easier when he could speak freely. 

Camille sighed, folding her arms. “How does anyone end up here? Didn’t have anywhere else to go.” She wondered if it made her more impressive that she was determined to build her life back up from rock bottom, or just a bit pitiful. This motel seemed like the kind of place that swallowed people whole. It was difficult to admit she had nothing- Camille had long prided herself on her ability to appear more put together than she was- but it wasn’t like he’d believe anything else, considering where they were. “I don’t know, maybe it rolled in freshly dyed grass. Stranger things have happened.” Though she wasn’t sure if this was the kind of place where people dyed their grass.

“Anything else?” Camille repeated, rubbing at the hand with the covered sigil on it- did he mean..? “Well I-” It was eating a finger, and it was pretty big. “I’m not… An expert. Maybe? I- it was freaky big. And the eyes were like, really not like any rat eyes I’ve seen. Not that I’ve seen a lot. Do you mean like-” She looked around, as if anyone else would be hanging out in this scabby courtyard. “Like not a normal animal, right? Like a- uh.. Creature. It could have been, yeah.”

“Fair enough. You didn’t seem the type is all.” Kaden gave her a quick glance and saw her rubbing at her one hand. “Save for the bucket full of eyeballs that I’m still not entirely convinced came out of the sink.” Not that it mattered how sketchy she was or wasn’t. The call was about any animal, not her. At her insistence of the green dye, he took a quick look around the grounds behind them. Not a whole lot of fresh anything, let alone grass or plant life. The whole place was pretty pitifully drab. “Doubtful,” he said as he walked closer to the bins in question, net in one hand, flashlight in the other. So far, it seemed pretty clear. No sounds or signs of movement. The more she spoke, the more he was sure he was dealing with a monster. Fingers could mean agropelters, but that still seemed too small. Maybe a really really big agropelter. “Yeah if I had to guess, this isn’t your standard rat. There’s a whole lot of weird animals that show up in this town. If you think it wasn’t a rat, you can say so. I’m not going to think you’re crazy.” 

Kaden bent down to examine the area and shoved one or two of the bins aside. Nothing. Odd. He was about to stand up and ask her if there was anywhere else it could be when he heard a rumble in the distance. There was a vibration under his feet, getting louder. Tilting his head, he looked closer into the corner where the buildings met, shining the flash light that way. For a moment, there was nothing. Then a flash of reflection against sharp teeth and beady eyes as a rat the size of a small dog burst through the hole in the wall. Kaden scrambled to get the net, to back away, anything, but the greenish grey rodent leapt at him and knocked him off balance to the ground as a swarm of more giant rats came tumbling out of the corner. Putain.

Was she the type? No. But it raised an interesting question; should she be? There weren’t going to be many people who believed or understood her experience. Regan was proof of that, the woman had wings and she still refused to even entertain the possibility that Camille was telling the truth. Evidently there were more sorts out there than you could shake a stick at, maybe if she jumped down the rabbit hole she would find people she could actually relate to in some way. There was also the distinct possibility that jumping down the rabbit hole would destroy any chance she had at a normal life, which is what she really wanted. Right?

Right. This stuff was interesting, but she wasn’t going to be consumed by it.  “The eyeballs came out of the tap.” Camille repeated hotly, frowning. She was so sick of people not believing her. “You live in White Crest! You’d believe I saw some monster that wasn’t a rat but eyeballs out of the tap is too far?” It was baffling to her, the arbitrary lines people here seemed to draw. She watched him work quietly for a moment more and was honestly debating just leaving him to it- she’d had quite enough of being invalidated, thank you- but then a swarm of damn rats- or whatever the hell they were- came rushing out.

Camille screamed- and again considered just leaving him to it- and flapped about uselessly only for a moment before reaching for the net that the guy had dropped in his scuffle, using the stick end of it to try and keep the bastards away from them both. “Ew oh my god! oh my god ew ew!” She grappled with the one of the animal control guy, which tried to cling on to the net but she managed to eventually fling it away. “Okay, I don’t think you brought enough cages.”

Kaden braced his face with the back of his arm and felt a tear as sharp teeth dug into his flesh and pulled away. Fuck, that hurt. He tried to get a closer look at what the fuck this was as he wrestled with the rat, pushing it off of him. The fucker was strong and coming at his face with those fucking long, flat, big ass teeth. He managed to throw it off and started to scramble back but a stampede was headed his way. Fuck, he wass done for. She’d probably turned and ran by now. To his surprise, he saw the net fly in and push the rat closest to him from crawling on top of him. Kaden pushed himself up and ran back over to her away from the rats. “Not enough nets either!” he yelled, grabbing her arm briefly to pull her along as he kept running back towards her place. 

 When Kaden reached her door, all he could do was hope that she’d let him the fuck in for a minute or two so they had a fucking safe place to sort this out. Granted, it was locked. Also hers. He could be completely fucked. Either way, they had to buy time. But how? “And it’s because I live in White Crest that I know there are a whole lot of reasons why someone might be collecting buckets full of eyeballs, alright. For the record.” Wait. Bucket of eyeballs. Right. He reached over and took the handle, dozens of severed eyes looking back up at him as a dozen more pairs of angry, beady rodent eyes stare down the hall towards them. Putian, this better work. No time to waste, Kaden took the bucket and threw the eyeballs back towards where they’d come from, onto the swarm of unusually sized rodents. Maybe if they liked fingers and skin enough, this would satisfy them for a second or two. Just long enough to come up with a better plan. 

Mimes, eyeballs, and now fucking rats. Camille knew there was going to be a lot to process in regards to her own life, but she hadn’t imagined she’d have to do it in a setting this chaotic. When would there ever be time to figure out her own problems if simply calling the animal control guy resulted in fending off a rat swarm?! She stumbled after him back to her door, whipping the key from her back pocket to shove it open- honestly it was more about force than the lock itself- “I’m not collecting them!” She snapped back, getting the door open just as he managed to distract the rats with the eyeballs- wow, and she hadn’t thought they’d come in handy. 

She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, pushing the door shut behind her and leaning up against it to catch her breath. “Oh my- oh.” Camille had been about to spiral into panic, but the blood dripping down his arm managed to catch her focus and she rushed to the bathroom for her first aid kit, wasted maternal instincts kicking in. The box itself was easy enough to open but the packet for the disinfectant wipe was impossible with the gloves on, and Camille tugged them off without thinking about the mark- someone was hurt, that took over every other thought- taking Kaden’s wrist gently to wipe down the wound. “Sorry, I know it stings.” She murmured, unwrapping a gauzy self adhering bandage to wrap over the top, “Right. One crisis dealt with.” 

For a moment, Kaden wondered if there was another reason why she was eyeing the blood on his arm. Vampire? No, they were just out in the fucking daylight. He really had to stop assuming that. First Regan, then Nell, now Camille. Three out of three wrong, maybe he should leave that shit to Alain. He was ready to just wipe the blood off, maybe smear some dirt in it but she’d fun back with the first aid kit so he held out his arm and let her patch it up as the thumping against the door carried on. He assumed it was a few of the rats trying to push their way in. “Don’t worry, not the first time I've been injured on the job. And this isn’t even bad.” It was probably a good idea to get it cleaned up before going for round two, hard to argue with that. “Also a bucket full of eyeballs is by fucking definition a colletion.”

Kaden went to the window and peaked out of it to see an ugle mug of nose and whiskers slam into the glass. What the fuck? Were these flesh eating giant rats? Where the fuck did those even come from? “Right. Doesn’t look like the coast is clear. Some of them seem to have scurried away but a few of these fuckers are determined.” His lips pulled into a thin line and his brow creased as he tried to formulate a plan. No way to fight them all off with weapons, there were too damn many. And his net was outside but even then. “Only thing coming to mind is fire. Molotov. Hairspray flame gun. I don’t know. Any better fucking ideas? Beyond climbing out the back window and making a break for it? You didn’t like any of your shit, right?”

It was the most useful she’d felt in months, patching up his arm. Camille used to teach kids to read and now she didn’t do anything. The rest of the world shrank back and she felt like herself again rather than some freakish re-animated corpse version. “You don’t want them to get at it again, and make it bad.” She pointed out in a very teacher-tone, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. “Sorry I don’t have a sticker for you.” She quipped, crashing back to reality with the next thud against the door. Right, the rats. 

Camille shuddered as one of them crashed up against the window, hoping the glass would be thick enough to hold. “Fire? Woah woah, and what am I supposed to tell the front desk when half my room is burnt to a crisp? I don’t think a fiery solution to a rat swarm will be covered by their insurance, and I sure as hell couldn’t pay for the damages. I mean, can’t we just- I don’t know- shit.” She sighed, collapsing into the chair against the wall and running a hand through her hair. “And I thought things couldn’t get worse.”

Kaden raised a brow at her remarks. Her tone was almost as if he had been a child and she was patting him on the head. Interesting. He couldn’t figure out if that was some sort of mom thing or a teacher thing. It was a weird level of comforting he didn’t see a whole lot of nor did he expect while out on an assignment. “I think I’ll be okay without.” If she really was a zombie or some other kind of undead, he wondered what sort of life she’d left behind to end up here in White Crest. In this dump. Not that now was the time for pondering. 

“Tell them it was me,” Kaden answered, rolling his eyes. “Plus, do you really think this is the type of place to give a shit? Look at it.” A quick gesture around the room and the sad rundown state proved his point. At least he sure thought so. “Plus I can’t fucking stab them all and there’s no nets big enough for that.” The pounding by the door grew louder. He went into her bathroom and found an aerosol can of hairspray or something or other and pulled out his lighter. “Alright. I’m going to need you to open the door a crack and then I’ll take down what I can with the fire. Ready? On the count of three.”

It wasn’t like Camille had much anyway.  It was a bare walled motel room. The meager wardrobe space wasn’t full, the kettle in the kitchenette wasn’t even hers. It just felt absurdly unfair that despite how she’d obviously already fallen all the way to rock bottom the universe was still trying to destroy the things she was clinging onto. She gave a defeated sigh, resting her elbows on her knees. “I know it’s shitty but it’s where I live.” She hissed.

This guy had no idea how it felt to finally have a home that felt peaceful, even if it was a crappy motel room. For so long that house with Jace had been full of shouting and hatred. This place wasn’t much but it was the hub from which she was trying to rebuild her life. Setting it on fire seemed like a bad omen. It wasn’t like she had a choice though. “Fine.” She groaned, pushing up from her seat and crossing the space to set her hand on the door handle. She sucked in a shaky breath, “one… Two…” She tightened her grip on the handle and turned it down, “three!” Camille pulled the door open just a little, enough for the swarm to start squeezing through.

As soon as the door was cracked open, Kaden pushed the trigger on the can and hair spray filled the air. He brought the lighter up underneath and fire flew right at the rats. The stench was awful, burning hairspray and burning flesh and fur, the squealing was bad before but now the  few rats in the front were wailing. The first few were trying to wriggle back and away from the flames, but the rest were pushing them forward. 

Kaden kicked the one coming closest to coming in. Then another. He could feel the heat from the flames by his feet and the smells were almost damn near enough to choke him. At least two were on fire and the others trying to pile on weren’t looking so good either. Fuck, he couldn’t take it anymore, he was about to start choking on the air around them so he stopped spraying and let go of the lighter. “Close it!” he said with one last punt to rat writhing in front of them. The flames were no comparison to Bea’s fireballs, but one peek out the window and they sure got the job done. Three or four out there were on fire. “See. Only minimal scorch marks.” So far.

It smelt like hell. Like, Camille was going to wipe every surface down with bleach after the ordeal is over to get rid of the stench. She was going to go shopping and buy every incense burner she could get her hands on. There was that witch store on Amnity Road, they’d probably have stuff. The sound made her scrunch her shoulders up around her ears and she had to work really hard not to scream herself, just owing to the viscerality of it all. This was it. This was her life. Giant fucking rats and an improvized flame thrower. She should’ve just stayed with Jace, could that really have been worse than all this? Well, maybe. 

At Kaden’s command Camille wasted no time slamming the door shut, pressing the sleeve of her top against her nose and mouth to try and filter out some of the smell. “This is really-” She coughed a couple of times, pulling in a shaky breath, “not how I was expecting my day to go.” Cam collapsed back into the chair by the door, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I mean, thankyou- obviously. But this is- it’s nuts. Every time I think this town can’t get any weirder it pulls out another surprise.”

Kaden kept watch out the window and a few of the rats writhed until they stopped wriggling, presumably dead. The rest scurried away. To where he didn’t fucking know. “Welcome to White Crest,” was about all he could manage. He had to admit though, this was a lot for one town. He thought he knew what he was walking into when he came to the small Maine town. This was a supernatural hot spot and he heard all kinds of crazy stories coming from hunter bars as far up as Canada about it. “Sorry this was a little more than you bargained for but I think they’re mostly dead. Or about to fuck off. I’ll put out some traps.” He looked back out at the size of those things. “Uh, more like I’ll set out some big ass cages.” 

Putain, she looked really distraught by this whole thing. Kaden coughed at the stench again and well, alright, fair enough. He came here about a rat and ended up having to use a make-shift blowtorch out of her apartment. “Are you going to be alright?” he asked. “I’m Kaden Langley. By the way.” Officer Langely sounded stupid no wawy he was going with that. “Let me know if you have any more trouble with them and I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

Could Camille really stay here? Maybe it would be better to save up and get the hell out of town. Okay maybe this was probably the only place she’d get more answers about what had happened to her, but there was the question of whether she’d stay sane enough for that to be worth it. Giant rats taken down with makeshift flame throwers? Eyeballs out of taps? Women with wings? It was a lot. Too much. “I mean the good thing is they probably won’t be coming anywhere near my room.”  Maybe it would be better to just ignore all strange things in the future.

She shifted to set her feet back on the ground and sit up straighter, heaving one final sigh before fixing a smile on her face. Camille had been incredibly good at pretending problems with Jace didn’t exist, she could do it again now with all this weird shit. “Kaden.” She nodded, committing the name to memory in case she needed to call again. “I’ll be alright.” Cam twists her hands together, stands up to head to the door. “Thank You for your help today. I appreciate that this wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, either.” No matter what he might be used to dealing with this had only been a call about a rat, afterall. “I hope the rest of your day goes a little more as planned.” She even managed a breezy little laugh, “I’ll be sure to call if they start causing problems again.” She pulled open the door just a crack, heaving a sigh of relief when they weren’t immediately swarmed again. “Thank you, again.” 

[kadavernagh]

Ash & Rest || Regan & Kaden

TIMING: Shortly after the exorcism (see Spirit & Bone / Fury & Flesh) LOCATION: Regan’s cabin CHARACTERS: Regan and Kaden SUMMARY: Kaden heads to the cabin to check on Regan after the exorcism. The two get their first real time together since the day Regan walked away. In giving peace to the coyote, maybe they can find a little bit of their own.

With Leah and Lil pushed away, all that was left in the cabin was silence. More than Regan had experienced in a long time. There was no second presence in her backpack or living room, no compelling voice rattling in her skull, other than her own thoughts of regret. The superiority, the protectiveness, the cruel words drenched in honesty – all for what? To help the voice of a dead coyote in her head find some semblance of peace? Couldn’t she see how absurd that was now? Was any of it worth it? Would the coyote find peace, where it was now? Regan sat on the floor, among the scattered salt lines and smeared chalk markings, and fingered the charred, powdered bones that stubbornly clung between the floorboards. Most of the ashes had been swept up, removed, as if Leah couldn’t trust her with them, and as if Lil thought they were the source of all evil.

Quiet was frightening. And Regan was not supposed to feel frightened. So what was this? She glanced over to the remaining skulls in her cabin collection; they peered down from their shelves, not offering any commentary. The coyote had been special, so special. Who would mourn it with her? No one. That was the answer she received today – the only certainty in this new, confusing clarity. The coyote had made her bold in a way even her training failed to do. It made her confident; she had accepted herself, understanding the breadth of her duties and how they could help those who were lost. She couldn’t help it, though.

Regan’s wings flittered against her back, reminding her that they could no longer be hidden without the necklace she’d grown to resent. Disgust squirmed within her, once again, after such a long reprieve. A sound outside of the cabin drew her attention away, though. Perhaps an animal. Wouldn’t it be just if a rabid coyote tracked itself inside and tore her up? But it sounded more like footsteps approaching the open door. “Who is it,” Regan said flatly, staring at the dark silt on her fingertip. She held it close to her chest and, with a heaving sigh, clapped her hands together to shake most of the remains off. “I am busy.”

There was a body dead in the woods. Another fucking body in the fucking woods. And every attempt to get near it was thwarted by a fucking reanimated porcupine. There was nothing more he could do. Metzli had Emilio. Jude was gone. Kaden should have just turned towards town and started walking. Instead, his feet took him elsewhere. 

The cabin was far enough away that Leah and Lil had cleared out by the time Kaden found himself standing in front of the door. Putain, what if Regan had gone with them? It would serve him right. There was no damn good reason for him to be there at the cabin at all. Sure, he cared about Regan, but he wasn’t the only person in town who could say that. He could say that he was the only person she’d broken up with recently. It stung to remember that night, the look on her face, the disappointment. There was no coyote then; there was nothing for him to blame this on except himself. Kaden wasn’t sure if he could see her look at him that way again. 

His feet almost turned him around but his hand was faster, knocking on the door before he could run away. Some part of him hoped that nothing but silence would answer him, but his heart still skipped a beat when he heard her voice. He swallowed away the dryness that he could in his throat, hoping he could find his own voice to answer back. “It’s me,” he said. Right. Stupid. That didn’t tell her shit. “Uh, Kaden. It’s Kaden. I can– If you don’t want anyone here, I can…” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. This was a bad idea. “I’ll go. I’ll just–” The door swung open before he could walk away. Kaden didn’t know what he expected to see or what he thought would happen, but he knew damn well he wasn’t prepared either way. 

Kaden didn’t have to clarify. Regan would have recognized a single croaked syllable. The last time they’d talked – really talked – was when she walked out on him, tarring him with judgment she knew still weighed on him. The thought of the altercation that followed made her shiver. She’d brought Emilio. They took gift-given bones by force. Somehow, the coyote had convinced her it was necessary – no human deserved to claim bones; they were hardly worth the ones inside of them. And from a banshee? Certainly not. Regan could still hear the echo of the sentiment ringing behind her ears, and bile burned its way up her throat. She tasted it as she called out. “Don’t.” The word shook her. And she realized it was one prone to misinterpretation. There was that bile again. She swallowed it back, along with regret that she knew only grazed the surface of what she’d feel later. “Don’t go.”

The murderer pushed his way in, but all she saw was Kaden.

What had she expected? The tension inside of her grew heavy, and despite everything, she found herself scanning the tears in his clothes, seeing which were tinged with blood and needed to be attended to. When had that become a routine between them? She wasn’t sure, but it had. But while her gaze couldn’t stay still, her body refused to move. The charred bone dust. It was all that was left. Not the vertebrae, not the long bones, not the skull, not her. It was all just dust. Regan closed her eyes and took a deep breath, wishing she could inhale some of the remains, but knowing how hazardous such a thing would be. Finally, she met Kaden’s eyes, just as soft as she remembered. “Do you want to sit with – with me?” Us, she had almost said, rotely. “I don’t know where to begin. Can you begin before something has been properly concluded?” Her throat welled with emotion, more than she’d allowed in a long time. “I can’t hear it anymore, don’t worry. But it didn’t deserve this. Kaden, it didn’t.” 

Kaden still considered turning and walking away, avoiding whatever it was that was waiting inside the cabin. Somehow it had been easier to deal with Regan when she was possessed; it was easier to write off her actions, easier to live with and gloss over. 

One step inside the doorway and he knew there was no way to gloss over things anymore. His stomach sank, but his heart still lept when he looked at her, pulling him apart. “I just wanted to see how you were…” His brow furrowed as he took a deeper look at her, saw how dishevled she was and knew the answer. “You’re hurt.” No shit. He was sure he didn’t look great either and he knew she could see it. Even as she met his eyes, hers no longer harsh and piercing like the last time they’d met, he kept his feet angled towards the door, ready to leave at any moment. Only that wasn’t what she wanted.

Kaden nodded and sat with her, trying to make the words she was saying make sense. He hadn’t been able to put together what had happened to him in the past hour, let alone what happened to her. His sympathy for the coyote clashed into the memory of Jude’s body, just another corpse on the death mound. “They’re dead,” was all he managed to say. “The person who did this. To the coyote? They’re dead. I couldn’t–” His throat closed and Kaden clenched his jaw against any of the emotion welling up within it. 

“It doesn’t hurt.” Regan said, brushing off Kaden’s comment. How could she even focus on a few contusions when the coyote was ash between her fingers? She stiffened as he took the invited seat next to her on the floor, but the regret she’d expected didn’t appear. Could he understand? Would he? The coyote had spent weeks, months, telling her they he wasn’t capable of it. That no one was. She and she alone would appreciate what needed to be done. But without those constant reminders, she had enough pause to question it. The way Kaden had fought to keep those bones was another contusion, this one in her memory, but it proved something, didn’t it? So maybe… wait. 

“Dead?” The word was leaden. It always was, outside of the walls of the morgue. So why, after experiencing the pain of families countless times after countless times, after having death tear up her own family, after having it tear up Kaden’s future, did she want to growl the word good? They deserved it. They tortured the coyote. They caused this, all of it. They– 

For a moment, all Regan could do was turn away, burning with shame at even thinking the sentiment. It was utterly unlike her, yet entirely her. “I won’t say what I just thought.” She said, knowing that would be enough, knowing that surely all of this emotion was diametrically opposed to her training as both a doctor and banshee, knowing that Kaden would understand this cabin was full of monsters. Monster. Perhaps just one. The murderer was not here, and had never been here. 

Regan turned to Kaden, brows lifted in concern. How did he know this? Of course. He saw it. After– “Is the body still out there, somewhere? What happened? You didn’t – did you leave it? Did you call the police? Were you–” Involved. No. She couldn’t ask that. Everything else, she would; she had to. Her duty came first, no matter what. But she couldn’t ask that. “It wanted to do it. It wanted to kill them. It should have.” Regan’s voice hardened, shaming her again. “If anyone was going to, I mean.” Her voice caught in her throat, and she looked down again at the floorboards, the sad chalky powder that scattered in a wave across the room when the cabin door had swung open. She started gathering some with her hands, her bruised knees complaining against the hard wood. “This is what’s left. Some dust, a cadaver, and two regretful, melancholic products of manipulation.”

Kaden couldn’t turn to look at her. He knew what she was thinking. Did you do it? Did you murder someone else and leave their body in the woods again? His eyes stung but he was determined to swallow any of the emotions bubbling up in him. This endless cycle of fighting and death in the fucking woods, he couldn’t handle it. Some part of him wished he could numb himself to it the way she had numbed herself to so much. The thought alone felt like a laceration, sharp and stinging. Even at his worst, he knew that wasn’t true, that he didn’t wish that. Not really. 

He had to tighten the grip on his jaw as she questioned him to keep each one from tearing him apart, to push away the thoughts of the body bloodied against the tree and the body decaying in the cabin and the body swallowed up by the death mound. “I–” He could feel his voice waiver with just one syllable. No. He cleared his throat with a cough, trying to collect himself, to forget the eyes that haunted him. “No. Metzli and Emilio, they’re– And it was, I mean they were– the body was on that death mound. They’re buried in animal corpses right now. And there’s a porcupine that’s–” Right. One look at her and he knew now wasn’t the time to tell her that the porcupine was also a walking corpse. “I couldn’t get to them. I couldn’t– I tried to–” Kaden took a sharp inhale through his nose, huffing as he exhaled, hoping it would dry away the threat of tears. “The coyotes. They tore them up.” And I failed to stop them. 

The shock of her next words did more to quell his emotions than anything as he turned to look at her, brows pinned together. He knew she had been entwined with the coyote for quite a while now, but he hadn’t expected her to feel as much empathy as she did with the creature. It was strange to hear Regan Kavanagh of all people wish someone dead. At least someone other than maybe Lydia. Even then. 

It was hard to shake off, to look at the collection of remains in front of him. He figured he shouldn’t tell her that he’d assumed the ashes were just dust. Probably wasn’t going to go over well. His fingers reached out, hovering over what was left of the coyote but not daring to touch it. “I heard. What they did to it.” How many times Jude had brought the animal back to life, how much they’d tormented them. It broke his heart and it only complicated the feelings he had about the human body in the death mound. “I wish I could have...” The same familiar phrase; he wished he could have done something. 

Metzli and Emilio were involved? Regan sat, digesting this. At least some of it. What the heck had happened? They would tell the police. Kaden would have instructed them to do so. She was sure of it. But not sure enough to ask and receive a negative response she couldn’t handle right now. Metzli and Emilio. Could she face either of them? Don’t think about that. She closed her eyes, focusing on the powder in her palm. “It couldn’t do that. The coyotes couldn’t.” Right? “Or maybe… if it was that monster…” He knew. She didn’t need to explain. Regan sighed, looking back at Kaden. Guilt was in every muscle of his face, held in the tension. She knew why. “You left the body with people who will report it. That’s different. This… it’s all different. Everything is.” 

She extended her other hand to the floor, palm open toward Kaden. “I’m sorry for how I spoke to you over these last few months, for going to your apartment with Emilio, for you being involved in any of this. It should have been a private matter. Me and the coyote. It tried to keep others away. It thought they would interfere because they wouldn’t understand. It was a frightened animal.” She frowned, tears pricking at her eyes that she tried very hard to ignore. “I don’t think you’re a parasite or a tick, Kaden. I don’t think I’m better than you. I’m – I heard you turned yourself in. I think good people can make grave mistakes, and they can own up to them. I’ve never thought that an accidental homicide should end two lives instead of one.”

“I can’t be angry at the coyote. I don’t understand what it was, how any of this happened, but I know what it wanted. I’d like to give it that, in some small way.” Slowly, Regan rose to her feet, turning toward the shelves full of skulls. Part of her couldn’t bear to look at them right now. But it was right. And somewhere along the line, she had made the decision – was it a decision really? – to accept what had happened, and not jump to an explanation that didn’t exist. She didn’t need to explain it now. “It wanted peace for the other dead animals. It didn’t want them to suffer the same torture. The mound was to be burned, with rites given. That – I can’t do that now, with the body possibly still in there.” She picked up one of the skulls, a raccoon with no mandible, and nodded toward it. “I’d like to scatter the dust on some of my bones and burn them. I won’t blame you if you want nothing to do with this.”

All Kaden could give her was a shrug. “I don’t understand all of this but they did. ” He had no idea how spectral coyotes had been able to bite him, how they could tear into Jude, but he didn’t need to worry about any of that anymore. Which let him worry about everything else instead. Like her remark that this was different. Was it? He didn’t know. He couldn’t tell. “Still feels bad. I didn’t like them, and I hated what they did but they were there to help. They–” Kaden felt his voice croak and didn’t want to risk it. But Jude was trying to fix their mistake, do better or some shit or something like that, and look what it got them. Had to wonder why even bother.

He was prepared to pull his hand away when he saw Regan’s reach towards him, likely shooing him away from the remains. Only her hand was open. Kaden tilted his head. Was she holding it out for him? He reached out his own hand and took hers in his, concentrating on the familiar chill of her skin instead of the twenty questions spinning in his head. Her apologies only spun up more questions. “You don’t have to apologize. I know. It wasn’t you. Not really. I mean, that’s what I figured.” Guilt settled into his stomach at the mention of accidental homicide. The words were right on his lips. It wasn’t an accident. He had fully intended to snuff out the life of his parent’s killer. He just hadn’t expected to feel guilty, to see the act as murder. He had seen it as putting down a dangerous animal; the lie he’d told himself for years. He saw it that way until he couldn’t, until dead eyes were staring him in the face. So what the fuck did that make his intentions? Meditated or accidental? It was too fucking complicated. All he could tell was that it felt wrong. All of it. 

Kaden settled on giving her a nod, not able to look her in the eyes just yet. “I did. I turned myself in. I’m, uh, I’m still suspended.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, like it wasn’t factoring into how fucking lost he’d felt for the past few months. Funny that the coyote had become the one thing that made sense. “But that sounds nice.” In a weird very White Crest sort of way. “I’d like to help. Giving those animals some peace is the least I can do.”

“I do have to apologize.” Regan corrected him. “While I was listening to the coyote, I was truly thinking those things. Everything that I said. At the time, I did believe it. I trusted the coyote.” She inhaled a deep breath of air. “So please know that I am sorry. I will have to discuss this with others, too. But for one final time, the coyote will come first.” And Kaden wanted to help. She shouldn’t have been surprised – he would likely help even his worst enemy if it meant giving an animal peace. She liked to think herself a little more well-liked than that, despite their current relationship or lack thereof. 

“Would you mind taking a few of these skulls?” Regan asked, struck by how easy it was to ask Kaden to handle these bones now. She had so fiercely guarded them from him only weeks ago. In case he had any doubt, she added a clarification. “I trust you with them. With all of this.” She scooped up a few more skulls herself, and led Kaden outside and around the back, where she knew there was a stretch of soil with no brush to catch ablaze. She gingerly set the skulls down, knowing she would feel hesitation once they actually began. She treasured each one, but some things were simply more important, weren’t they? The coyote would have wanted this. “I need to collect some of the dust. Do you want to come back with me for some more bones? And… perhaps tell me more about your suspension and what on earth you’ve been doing with all of this free time. You look… slightly less burdened. By about 20%, I would estimate. So I hope it’s been more than stewing in something that can’t be undone. You’ve paid your dues.”

The creases in his forehead deepened as Kaden tried to reconcile what she said. It had been odd to hear those harsh words from her in the first place, but at the time he’d been so ready to believe them. When he found out about the coyote, he hadn’t thought she believed what she was saying. So it was odd to get a glimpse into some part of Regan that so fully embraced what she was to the point where she lacked the care she’d always had for others. The learned fear and distrust that had clouded his thoughts on the supernatural for so long threatened to creep in, but they didn’t take hold. Those may have been her thoughts, but her actions now as herself meant more. 

“Yeah, I’ve got ‘em.” Kaden started gently picking up the skulls and bones lining the shelves and wondered if he should tell her that he broke into her apartment with Lil a few weeks ago. Maybe later. He had to smile at her twenty percent comment. “That’s twenty more percent than I expected. Sure don’t feel like I’ve paid any dues.” He let out a sigh as he rubbed his thumb over the smooth surface of a raccoon skeleton. Had to wonder if it died like any animal or if something terrible in the town got to it, too. Guess he’d never know. “Uh, but not much. Been running. Taking Abel to the dog park a lot. Watched some documentaries. Gardened. I guess if you can call it that. Tried to help with, uh, this,” he said gesturing to the cabin, hoping she understood what he meant. “Volunteered a little at the shelter, too. Not sure how many of them there even know about the suspension, to be honest. Oh and a friend got me a forge to take up blacksmithing. Haven’t taken them up on it yet.”

“You turned yourself in. The experience changed you. That’s all you can do.” Regan looked down at the powdered floorboards and then sharply turned to face Kaden. “You’ve never known me to go easy on someone where matters like this are concerned. Even you. So trust me when I say there’s nothing more to do. It’s out of your hands.” The body was another matter – left out there in the woods, and hopefully collected by someone trustworthy later. The thought still pained Regan, but holding that against Kaden forever was futile. He learned from it. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Surely. Which was how she knew the body in the woods now was being attended to. No – it wasn’t even a lingering question on her mind. Gone. It was gone. She pushed it out of her thoughts entirely. The bone dust on the floor helped. She got to work collecting it, feeling better about the remains in her hands than the theoretical ones outside of her cabin. “It sounds like you’ve been keeping yourself busy. Which is good. I’m… it’s good, hearing that. I wondered. But… blacksmithing? Weapons?” It had sounded like he never wanted to see another one. But it was the mention of the animal shelter that sent a flash of memory through her. The two animals warring across her cabin. Ariana. She didn’t even know what to make of that enough to tell Kaden right now. 

Right. The dust. Regan held her breath steady so as not to disturb it, and managed to collect most of it in her hands. She snuck a couple of furtive glances at Kaden as he selected and picked up some of the skulls. She trusted him. It wasn’t that. But some part of her softened at the familiar sight – something that used to be almost routine, despite its object oddness. He was always tender with her collection, even when he didn’t completely understand how precious it was to her. A pit grew in her stomach thinking once again about the altercation outside of his apartment, how wrong she had been. “I still have them, you know.” She swallowed some of the trickling guilt back. “The bones I gave you. If you want them back. Later.”

“Is it?” Kaden’s voice was almost a whisper, eyes locked on the skull in his hand but his vision was somewhere else. He sighed. He knew she was right – she didn’t go easy on anyone when it came to the law. But she didn’t know the full extent of his past and he couldn’t bring himself to try and tell her, not without more context. He knew it wouldn’t make it better, wouldn’t change what he’d done, but he didn’t want to tell half truths. If he was going to confess it all, he wanted to tell the entire truth. Now wasn’t the time. He wasn’t sure when that would be. He exhaled a sigh. “Guess it has to be.”

Kaden was reaching the limits of what he could carry, but he was determined to grab as many bones as he could without damaging them. “Right. Doesn’t feel like I was busy. It felt more like scrambling to find something to do in the meantime.” He wasn’t going to mention how much of that time was spent glued to the couch or how often he still found himself right there in that same spot. 

He turned and had to lurch to keep some of the skulls from tumbling out of his hands. “Oh. Uh…” He hadn’t thought that far through things. The bones weren’t really his primary focus once he found out something was going on with Regan. Presented with the offer, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what they were or where they stood. And so he didn’t know what the fuck he wanted. “Good. Yeah. I mean I figured you kept them.” If he had a free hand to rub the back of his neck he would. “I, uh, well, maybe. I did a lot of, um, rearranging. All that.” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep them for posterity or never see them again. It all depended on how much it was going to hurt. “Right, uh, where do you want to do this?”

Regan studied Kaden, searching each crease of his face for the answer she wanted, not even herself knowing, but she couldn’t see it. So she looked back to her bone dust, and wished she could bathe herself in it and vanish. “Y-yeah. Of course. I kept them.” She swallowed the last word. If she couldn’t disappear into the bone dust, her second choice would be asphyxiating on this miserably thick air that seemed to be in the cabin right now. Instead of opening her mouth for her last breath, words came out of it. “They belonged to you. I took them. I was offering to make things right. An exchange. That’s–” All. And she really did need to swallow the last word this time, because it made her stomach twist into a knot tighter than the rope that had bound her today. “It doesn’t–” Ow. “Right. Simply follow me back outside.” She cupped the dust in her hands like it was an insect, and led Kaden back to where the other skulls sat. And still, she couldn’t strike the images of Kaden sinking into his couch from her mind. As if things would have been any better if she were there with him. 

“I’ve never done anything like this before. I mean, the pyre.” The closest was a couple of ceremonies that Deirdre had instilled in her – but even those felt different, less personal. Less like grieving a loved one. “I suppose few have… you know, given the odd circumstances.” So odd she still didn’t understand them. Had there been mold inside of that coyote skull that caused months of hallucinations? No, she still wasn’t ready to humor that. Humor anything, really. All she knew was that this small action felt right. Regan sprinkled the ashy dust from her hands across the pile of skulls. It tickled her fingers, but not in the same way that usually brought her such joy. Once the skulls were powdered, she placed some dry twigs and brush atop the pile, hoping it would be sufficient to catch flame. And dreading it at the same time. “You have your lighter.” Not a question. “I always found it to be such a… strange tradition, speaking of the deceased. As if the dead could hear you. I still find it strange. But it’s a ritual done for the person saying the words, isn’t it? I need no such thing. I will speak to it.” She looked at Kaden, a strange mix of emotions swirling in her stomach. He was here, and she didn’t know why. He probably didn’t either. Had the coyote been present, it would have been proven wrong about him, though. He did understand. 

Regan inhaled a deep breath. If this were to bring any peace to the coyote at all, she didn’t want the coyote to wait for it. “You did not deserve any of this. Sa bhás tá síocháin.” Shakily, she rose to her feet, not wanting to be hovering over a flame. There was already too much fire in her day. She would look upon it again, though, and remember. Regan took a slow step back, waiting for the rest of the coyote to burn.

That’s all. She didn’t have to finish the sentence. Kaden knew what she was going to say. She just wanted to give him back his stuff so that they were even. Finished. All loose ends tied in a final bow. He clenched his jaw, concentrating on the pressure between his teeth. He wanted to avoid feeling any of the sting in his eyes or the lurch of his stomach. He didn’t know there was a small spark of hope left until it was snuffed out. Stupid. “Yeah. Sure. If it makes you feel better, I’ll take them back.” His voice was soft and steady as he could manage, and he did everything he could to keep his eyes from meeting hers. That would be it then, right? That would mean– He exhaled, trying to let go of some of the tension building in his chest and followed her outside. 

The skulls weren’t heavy but he still felt weighed down with each step. He’d forgotten how quiet it was out by her cabin, how the birds and small animals kept clear of it when they could, and how it was almost like the wind didn’t dare blow in its direction. He had once found it comforting in a way, a place wrapped in complicated memories, but enough good to make it feel warm somehow. He could hear every crunch of leaves and twigs beneath them as he laid the skulls down one by one. Now the silence felt colder, almost hollow. He wondered if she felt the same. “Don’t worry, I’ve been to plenty of funerals. Humans and animals alike.” He was surrounded somehow by death. Kaden did what he could in his job and his duty to keep animals and humans alive, to save them, but not everyone could be saved. He wondered if he had managed to save anyone at all or if he had just kept spinning the wheel and continuing the cycle of violence and death.

Kaden nodded and pulled out his lighter. Eilidh and Nicole were sure to have some words for him if they knew he was lighting another fire in the woods. This would be different. He had to hope that somehow things could be different. “Strange, huh?” The hint of a laugh left his lips. It was nice to see her again, and there was no mistaking that for Regan. It was almost comical to see someone with wings who’d just been dragged through an exorcism unable to let herself even consider the possibility that the dead could still linger after death. Then again, he supposed she’d know more about death than he would. “It’s just a way to find closure. End it in something other than silence. Maybe pretend there’s some meaning to it all.” Then again, he was pretty sure he didn’t say a single word at his parents’ funeral. 

When she was done speaking, though he didn’t know what she’d said at the end there, he leaned down and lit the small pyre. It struck him that this was more ceremony than he’d done for any of the supposed monsters he’d killed in the woods. He couldn’t go back and undo the past, but maybe the flames could burn for them, too. “Repose en paix.” 

As the brush was alight and smoke curled up toward the treetops, Regan stared fixedly at the circle of bones and ash, now completely swallowed by the flame. All that was left of the coyote was gone. She supposed she should feel more about that right now, but she couldn’t take her eyes away from the bones she’d kept for years, breaking apart. She knew there would be fragments left, there always were. Sometimes they could be pieced together and make something close enough to the original; sometimes not. But Regan always found those fragments a home somewhere, unrecognizable as they could be. And sometimes they surprised her. Initially orphaned, but after days, weeks, months, she would notice a landmark on the fragment. The very edge of a protuberance or a hint of a process or half of a tiny crescent of a foramen. Those ones eventually found their places again. After what happened today, after the training she had put herself through, after pushing through medical school, after a childhood that seemed entirely idyllic now, fault lines had turned to fragments. Perhaps earlier. She wasn’t sure what kind of fragment was left. Not of her, and not of Kaden. But as the sun began to set on the day and the fire glowed in the encroaching darkness, and the bones seemed to rise up and ride the smoke, and Kaden had the first hint of peace slide over his face she’d seen in months, Regan decided the only thing that mattered was that whatever fragments they were, they tried to be good ones.  

[braindeacl]

Pour Some Soil On Me | Eilidh & Kaden

SETTING: The Outskirts. TIMING:  Before Everyone Needs Kindness. PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @braindeacl SUMMARY: Eilidh and Kaden reseed the clearing left by the fire. WARNINGS: N/A

Dragging himself out of the house felt like a chore in and of itself, and here Kaden was doing just that to do an actual chore. Gardening. It sounded boring. Couldn’t the forest just fix itself? Nature was usually good about that, wasn’t it? Still, he knew that Macleod had a point when she suggested this. The whole space had become unnatural and together they had turned it brittle and then to ashes. Hell, he turned more than just the plants into ashes. The sight of the leshy crumbling and going up in flame sat in his vision as he closed his eyes. He tried to shake it away. What did it matter now? He couldn’t take it back, he couldn’t give back one more life he’d taken. It was left in a pile with all the others he’d stolen. Too much death, more than he could atone for. He supposed walking into the barren clearing now was one step in the right direction. Maybe. “I’m here,” he called out once his shoes hit soot. “What now?” He hoped she came prepared because he sure wasn’t. Hell, he wasn’t sure if his shirt was on right side out. He remembered to put on shoes, right? He looked down. No socks. But two shoes that matched. Good enough.

There was still resentment in Eilidh’s beatless heart. The pheromone had been contained. Well. Mostly. Focused on the leshy, with some splashes back on those forced soldiers underfoot. Yet it was focused and partial. But fire cannot be tamed, and the flames that day knew nothing of domestication. Flames he set the first spark to. And she hated. For the fires reminded her of her first home. For the fires consumed all those underfoot. Though, her hands had been forced to do similar deeds. Perhaps that was what she hated the most. The hopelessness in herself. That spark the final nail of their coffins of that realization. But Kaden had agreed to help, he had promised, and she was going to ensure his word like the Folk. It was only right for the hands that lit the flames to plant the seed. Balanced. And it was easy to spot him. The setting demanded it, for there was nothing else to distract. He had made it so.

Eilidh whistled to him, and once attention was secured, she walked over. Well, mostly rolled, considering the wheelbarrow in front of her. Even on the best of days, she wasn’t one for small talk. Considering her mood, she especially had no consideration for pleasantries. “Start with easy ones. Just gotta sprinkle.” Once the distance between them was satisfactorily short, she parked the wheelbarrow. Her hands disappeared in its contents, of various bags and tools, and only returned when a bag of seeds rested in her grasp. The bag exchanged hands; tossed to the man who would become its keeper. Her eyes were about to return to that clearing, to seek out those who had already been planted and needed assessment. But her gaze lingered on Kaden longer than needed, and then to the space behind him. “No dog?” There was clear disappointment. Some for her, but mostly for Tulip, who was still amongst the trees finishing her business.

The whistle made Kaden’s eyes squint as he winced at the loud sound. He forgot how stupid his hearing was, how much it picked up every small sound and amplified every one. So many times as a kid, he’d stuffed cotton balls in his ears to try and shut the sound out, to be a little closer to normal. Yeah. Right. That had long since passed now. She moved much faster than he did, and made good work of closing the distance between them.Kaden nodded like he understood a word of what she’d just said. He tried to repeat them back in his head, process anything. Easy ones. “Easy ones?” he asked, still not sure he understood what he was doing. Something took hold of him, his chest tightened. He couldn’t place the finger on the feeling or why, but it was just tight, closed in, maybe even scared. Kaden didn’t have time to examine it; he caught the bag flying towards him. Of course his fucking instincts and reaction times were stil there, all down to decades of muscle memory. All in the service of killing. Disgusting. He shook his head, trying to follow her eye line, looking at the seeds she’d already laid. Before he could answer her question, a bark came from across the way. “Abel,” he said, pointing back at the mostly black dog bounding his way through the ash. “He got bored with–” how slow Kaden was walking. “Just walking. He saw a squirrel. Always comes home, though.” The ranger tried to pull the corner of his mouth up into a smile but could barely find the energy, though he did have enough to ruffle Abel’s ears just before the dog padded off towards Macleod for a whole lot of sniffing.

Eilidh’s attention was easily stolen. Sucked away by those hurried inhales, as the dog covered her legs in such. She offered a hand, and Abel took the invitation without a moment’s hesitation. Nose pressed firm into her palm, lost to her cold skin as those raspy sounds grew louder. Eilidh’s own nose joined the commotion, letting out a snort. “Hello, hello, braidean beag.” But all things came to an end, and the dog soon had his fill of her scent. Tulip’s proved more intriguing. Her paws had barely become reacquainted with the ash before Abel was on her. The two consumed the other’s scents until it overwhelmed them into play. A burst of joyous life on top of all the death. And when Eilidh’s attention returned to Kaden, his face could match that ash. Flesh looked more like stone, hard and hollow. Absent of the grumpiness she had only known. Absent of anything really. As blank as the land. Did the fire still burn for him, too? Good. It should. Perhaps she could’ve held onto that victorious spite. Yet that sight made it hard. She thought her face was too of stone, carved with a stern look. But it softened.

Just as quickly as it had, Eilidh’s gaze dropped down. Back to the wheelbarrow, searching. She retrieved an identical bag to the one in Kaden’s hands. Fingers wormed inside, revealing only when a pinch of seeds was pressed between. “Is simple. Like this.” She kicked the toe of her boot against the ground; only enough to where it relented against her efforts. Then, with a flick, the assortment was sent flying. Falling down, becoming one with the upturned soil. The expanse already held such delights, but not nearly in full. Difficulty in facing the gray made progress slow. She knew the forest would be fine; even if she stayed home. But she felt compelled, like Fate calling. “Or just throw. All an’t gonna take anyhow.”

It seemed simple enough. Of course, somehow everything felt harder than it should be as of late. Kaden took a deep breath and took in the scenery surrounding him. This place; it was gutted and dead, covered in ash. If the turmoil in his head was made physical, he’d hazard a guess it might look something like the landscape laid out in front of him. What was the point? What was the point in trying to help this place grow again? Why bother planting new seeds just for them to be trampled down? What was the point in building the forest up again just for it to be a home for more monsters? What was the point in building a new hunting ground for another kind of monster? Why put any effort into this godforsaken town in the first place? They should burn the forest to the ground, let the ashes consume, let the ocean swallow it whole, find a way to let nature wash away the blood staining the whole damn place. He wanted to ask her why they were even trying. But he couldn’t create the words. So he nodded and slowly, carefully, put his hand into the bag of seeds. His fingers flowed through them as he grabbed a handful. Funny, he hadn’t expected the sense of calm that came with the sensation of running his fingers through the seeds. Huh. Weird. He stood there for a moment, hand still in the bag, fingers wrapped around a bunch of seeds. He looked down at the ground ahead of him like he’d never seen soil in his life. “I just throw them?” he asked, still watching the ground as if it would light up and guide him along a path at any second now. “It doesn’t matter where? There’s no pattern to it?” It should have been simple. And yet somehow he was still concerned he could find a way to make things worse, that he could still find a way to add to his mistakes.

Eilidh watched him. Her body too gone motionless, but for different reasons. Waiting for the hands that burned to plant. Waiting for the balance to be fulfilled. But it never came. The stone of his face overtook his arms, and she took it as sudden refusal. She huffed a breath; a hiss in her nose. Her frustrations returned, like a flash of lightning. But the thunder, the growl, did not follow. No, his words silenced it. Simply hesitant curiosities. Had the man never touched a garden? Seen the ways of nature? Yes. It had to be so. Why his hands had so casually caused those hungry flames. Perhaps the seeds would plant the want for care in his heart. Mother Nature did have her charms. So, she nodded, humming in tempo with her head motions. “Just throw. The only pattern’s being constant. Ground’ll do the rest.” As example, she grabbed a fistful and threw the whole lot into the air. A firework made of life instead of fire. Raining back to the ground in wait of the rains to give them life. The dogs both perked at the motion, rushing over to cover the fresh seeds in sniffs. But sniffs were not enough in Tulip’s case, whose tongue joined. Licking some up before they could even dream of being vegetation. “This why I dinnae bring you.” While the dogs were distracted, continuing their play, she threw another handful. Ones whose position on the ground stayed assured.

Just throw. She made it look so easy, her body free, her movements fluid. Kaden was stiff, stuck in place, stalled and unsure. Fear gripped him, held him down, left him there. Fear. That wasn’t what he’d felt a lot of recently. He hadn’t felt much at all recently. Nothing but emptiness. Fear. The hell was he afraid of? He looked back at the seeds that had fallen like confetti across the soil. It really was that simple. What was he afraid of, then?

Kaden inhaled, gripped the seeds tight. Messing up. He was afraid of messing up. Again. Looking down at his hands, he felt it again. Fear. His own hands, so often blood soaked or holding weapons, tossing fire. Tools of destruction. How were they going to help anything grow? How could they bring anything more than destruction?

This was stupid. They were his hands. He controlled them. He just had to put his hand above the damn ground and let go. Simple. Kaden gulped, held out his fist, and then opened his palm. The seeds didn’t fall as beautifully or as gracefully as hers had. They were mostly a few big clumps spilled along the way. He stood, staring at them a moment. “That’ll work?” he asked. “That’s good enough?” He looked up in time to catch the other dog licking up some of the seeds and he felt the corner of his mouth tug upwards, just a little. “Guess I’m more helpful than someone here,” he added, though he wasn’t sure he believed it just yet.

The hesitation was not done with him, with hands still trapped in stone. But instead of irritation, Eilidh felt anticipation. It made her one of stone too, her only motion a twitch in her curious eyes. They followed Kaden’s movements, like a faun’s first steps. Stumbled and messy, but still motion. The seeds found themselves on the ground all the same. Competing on who would become green and who would become snack, for their crowded placement only allowed a few to burrow. But the forest was more than the flora underfoot, it was also the creatures within. Readied soil or hungry mouth would find use for them. They would get their place in the cycle. So, she nodded in confirmation, accepting the offering on behalf of the woods. “Aye. What an’t taken by the ground’ll be food for birds ‘n mice ‘n not dogs.” Voice turned stern as her focus found approaching movement. Movement that stopped at those words, Tulip now locked in hesitation. “Thoir ort, sultachag.” There was a bit of a growl to her words, but one that was betrayed by the smile on her face. And further betrayed when she tossed another batch of seeds towards Tulip. The dog accepted them happily, but only a few, her appetite finally sated.

Eilidh chuckled at Kaden’s observation, one that called to her own. It was on her tongue, but only managed to be a delighted hum. For when Tulip trotted away, her eyes were left alone with that emptiness. It was as hungry as the flames and wanted to swallow her up. She knew it, she knew. Her eyes glanced back to Kaden, but not to his face. Not to the hollowness that made her anger hesitant. No. To those hands. She let out a huff, and it took her smile down with it. Back to a blank slate as she continued with a gruff voice. “Well. Got the motions now. Go.” Once more, she threw out another cascade of seeds. The only difference was she was on the move, throwing seeds with every few steps. Steps that took her away from Kaden.

Kaden stood staring at the seeds for far too long. No matter how long he looked, nothing changed, but the fear that he had only made things worse clung to him like rain soaked clothes. He replayed her words of approval over a few times before he was able to let them sink in a little, just enough to will his feet to move forward. He grabbed another handful of seeds, preparing to chuck them when the flash of movement and her stern voice made him spill them haphazardly, twitching a little at the sudden change of tone. The hunter looked back and saw her walking away from him. So he had done something wrong. Of course he had. Again. It felt like too much. He was ready to just give up, sit on the fucking ground covered in ash when a cold, wet nose shoved itself into his hand. Abel leaned into his leg and was rewarded with a few scratches behind the ear.

This wasn’t hard. It shouldn’t be hard. Kaden took a deep breath and tried again. The seeds he tossed weren’t as evenly spread as hers, the line he walked more haphazard, but he was helping. He was, right? Maybe he shouldn’t ask; his previous attempts to help people is what caused the destruction in the first place. He tried to push all the thoughts and questions and bullshit memories out of his head and just let himself feel the seeds spreading between his fingers, concentrated on the flick of his wrist as he threw them. No thoughts, only action. Eventually he found himself beside Macleod again, only trailing along behind her and moving much slower. “What are these gonna be?” he finally got the courage to ask.

The place was haunted by a fire that never tired, stoking the flames that burned in Eilidh. Anger she knew well, coating her chest in familiar smog. Its purpose to choke out a pain. One she had no way of mending, because to confront the flames was to accept things she mustn’t. She may have been born on that island, but she had not lived there. Yet she felt a connection to the place. So great that when it burned, it had driven her to madness and then to the ground. That destroying connection still refused to be done with her. She was so good at cutting bounds, yet the string tying her to the place was made of steel wire. And she had to cut, for it was not hers. Stolen from that previous life. A life she was reminded of, when her eyes met flame and her home burned again. A home she could not claim, should not claim, so she was just left with the burning.

Eilidh walked further into the clearing, until ash was all her peripherals could see in her downturned gaze. She pulled her head back, as she always had to do. Staring off to those distant trees, still dancing in life. The seeds in her hand met the ground with no watchful eye to guide them. But that was the will of nature, too. And her peripherals kept wanting to see a burnt fence, a charred wall, a smoking door. So, her eyes remained with the trees, and let the seeds be blind. It made her blind too. So lost to the past, she had forgotten the present. When Kaden spoke, she sucked in a sharp inhale. Like a gasp wanted to be a hiss. She grumbled, for it was all her mouth knew to do in her moment of recollection. What were the seeds again? Her voice was monotonous, as if reading from a list. “...Grasses. Clover… Bits of flowers.” Perhaps more, but that as all her thoughts would offer. She blinked up at him, before her eyes settled into a squint. “Hell’s it matter to you?”

Her response hit Kaden like a slap on the wrist. “I–” He felt like he had no right to be here, that his presence alone was just furthering the destruction, setting back the growth and progress here. He should just leave and be done, stop trying to help. His attempts never seemed to work. “I was just wondering,” he finally said, sheepishly, his eyes wandering back down to the ground. He tried to imagine the grass and clovers, the ash covered floor washed in green instead of gray. It was hard to imagine right now in the bleakness of it all. Flowers seemed damn impossible. He had more questions swirling in his mind. How long would it take for any of it to grow? What if none of it grew? What if this place was scarred forever? He was too afraid to voice a single one, merely continued to shuffle forward, dropping clumps of seeds as he went. “This feels too easy,” he added after a while. “You sure I’m not fucking this up?”

Eilidh thought returning to Kaden would allow her reprieve from the ash. But it remained in his face — that emptiness. One that held weight, unsurprisingly. She had come to realize one of the heaviest things was nothingness. As quickly as she looked at him, her gaze was once more gone. Before it could affect her face, again. But it carried in the wind; in his voice. She grumbled, then let out a cruel snort. “Sure.” What was this… trick? Tries to placate her? Her eyes stayed with the ash. It wouldn’t lie to her. She knew what it wanted. Of her; of all of them. Only taking breaks to look to the trees and to Kaden’s hands to make sure he ensured their future. So that cruel truth could be lifted from the ground in that burst of life. His continued actions kept her biting thoughts from reaching her tongue. No need to scare him off before the deal was done. And only that stopped her. Certainly not because of the strange feeling in her core.

Eilidh’s eyes kept that rhythm. Ash, hands, trees. Ash, hands, trees. Ash, hands… dog? Tulip pranced passed. To join the two of them, but not with her. No, Tulip’s curiosity instead led her to Kaden. Had her sending a few tentative sniffs against his shoes, searching and searching, before finding something she really liked. Her tail wagged with success as she took a frenzy of big inhales. Then, after a small lick, she simply pranced off. Leaving the two alone. As they had been before, but something felt different. That wagging tail had been a duster, brushing off the ash from her brain. Eilidh looked at his face again. Accepted that emptiness and what it implied. Relented to it, as her own face softened, and then, too, her voice. “You’re not fucking up.”

Kaden wasn’t sure where the tension had grown from, but if he had to guess, he’d say it likely stemmed from him. That was fair enough, he wasn’t a whole lot of fun to be around right now, he knew that much. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t exactly hold himself highly at the moment so he didn’t much expect anyone else to, either.

He was about to drop another handful of seeds when he heard and felt a small huff on his leg. His face scrunched and he looked down to see a dog. Only it wasn’t Abel, but Tulip, tail wagging and looking up at him. He expected his own dog to be happy to see him, but there was always something a little special when a dog that he didn’t feed and walk on a regular basis decided they liked him. He put his free hand down for her to sniff and she shoved her nose in it for a pet before giving him a quick lick and trotting off. Dogs knew bad people, he’d always believed that they could tell. By all accounts, Tulip should have taken one sniff and ran away from Kaden. Only she didn’t. The corner of his mouth pulled upwards a little at a time.

His head snapped back up to look at Macleod at the sound of her voice; he’d almost forgotten he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t entirely sure he believed her still, but it was hard to completely deny the back to back assurances from her and her dog. Abel ran over and leaned into his legs, begging for scritches and Kaden complied before the dog ran off again after his new friend. The ranger took a deep breath, tried to steady himself, and reached in the bag for some more seeds to spread. The ash felt like it spread on forever, like it would be impossible to mend and spread life across the whole area ever again. Still, as impossible as that felt, it seemed easier than trying to live with the consequences of what his life had been, who he was. The only thing he could do for now was just take one more step, drop seeds, and then another, and another, over and over until he reached the line of trees and had to turn around. It was weird to him how much he didn’t entirely hate it, the whole thing. “Thanks,” he said, breaking the silence that stretched on for a bit. “Uh, I mean… This. It isn’t–” Kaden wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say, but he knew he wasn’t managing. “I mean thanks. For dragging me out here. I, uh… I mean I’d come back. Again. If there’s more that, uh, needs to happen. Not that we’re done now. But in case there’s more. Later.”

The softness was quickly replaced with surprise. Minor, but enough to tense Eilidh’s features outward instead of their previous in. As if the pull of her muscles could draw out that relentment. One that felt like a betrayal. Part of her still wanted to be angry; clung to it like the ash clung to the ground. Made her want to scream and shriek and shout. Perhaps because with Kaden it would be heard, instead of all that bitterness seeping into dead ground. Yet, that bitterness would rather cling to her throat than be released in even a whisper. Leaving the air lost to words. Until they found themselves, instead, in his throat. That silence was broken with such a strange offering. Not strange from the nature of it, but the source. Well, maybe not as strange as she would have thought, the longer she considered him. Once more, she would hold him to this promise, but something in his eyes said she wouldn’t need to. She wasn’t sure if its wordless message spoke of a change in his heart, or of the fault of her own suspicions.

In the end, the specifics didn’t matter to Eilidh. “Aye?” With that simple word, her lips gained a curl. One that was quickly hidden under the tap, tap, tap of her finger in thought. Following that tempo in her head, of her ticking down a list. “Still plenty of seeding. ‘N raking.” Jerk of her wrist, the wheelbarrow was called back to attention. Almost an afterthought in that distance away, but she could still make out those familiar spiked edges. To demonstrate, her nails became those spikes. Clawing down her own palm with frenzied repetition. “Stirs ‘em in the ground real good. So the Earth can hug ‘em tight ‘n close.” For a moment, there was a touch of amusement on her breath. “Keeps dogs from licking ‘em up.” She shot a look to Tulip, whose only response was a wag of her tail. “Then lots of watching. Watching, watching, watching.” To ensure growth — to ensure one did not grow again. That great shadow choking out the land. She shook her head. Her throat rumbled, as her eyes scanned the area. “May need to add some mulch to the real fucked spots. Do more of it all in Autumn. Is better taken in that season.” She began to nod her head. As if she could already see the return of the green. “And then! Wait.” She let out a gentle chuckle. “Sound doable?”

Aye. A yes. Kaden wasn’t sure he’d expected a yes. Then again, he wasn’t sure what he’d do with a no. He nodded and was about to start walking again since she said there was still plenty to do, but paused as she continued. His brow furrowed as he watched her illustrate the raking with her fingers, like they were claws or talons digging into the dirt. The memory of claws lunging out to slash him flashed in his mind. He shook it away and looked back down at the ground and ash below, pushing some of it around with his foot, almost like he was testing out her demonstration. “Makes sense,” he mumbled back. Watching. He breathed in deep. Lots of watching and waiting. It felt like inaction. Inaction was still a choice. Maybe that was the choice he had to make for the moment. Perhaps that was the path he should take for a bit. He looked back up at her, following her gaze out at the clearing, trying to see what she was seeing. He was pretty sure he didn’t quite see it; he was having trouble seeing past all the death and destruction. But he wanted to see whatever it was she was imagining. And it sounded like maybe he could help make it happen. He could at least tentatively believe that. For now. “Sounds doable,” he answered, a small smile spreading across his face before he carried on throwing the seeds on the ground, hoping his help was enough.

[zahneundklauen-retired]

Blood Demands Blood || Alcher, Kaden and Ariana

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup, @zahneundklauen and @letsbenditlikebennett LOCATION: Near Lyssa’s Peak SUMMARY: Kaden and Alcher finally come face to face. CONTENT: Parental death mention, Sibling death mention, Gun use, Suicidal Ideation

It was a normal night, just like any other. The air was cool, ripe with the early spring that had brought pollen and plants and danger into White Crest. Alcher paid little mind to it, despite the pollen sticking to her nose and clouding her senses every now and then. Ariana had given her something, though, a little pill called an “antihistamine”. She didn’t know exactly what it was, except that it helped clear up her nose and get her back to normal. 

But tonight wasn’t about pollen or medicine or anything else going on. Tonight was about a feud that had been started three decades ago. 

She remembered the ring of the first gunshot. It had shattered the front window and her mother had dove for her children, grabbing Dearg from the stage and shoving Lutz away from the windows. Her father had used his haunches to lift the table and flip it into the window, blocking line of sight as another shot rang out. He roared as a silver bullet smashed through the oak table and pierced his shoulder. 

The gunshots had been a distraction. Around the back hunters crept with torches and flashbangs. They soared through the other windows and into the kitchen, the living room, the grand hall. Wooden spires burned. 

All of this before Alcher had even reacted. The house lit up in moments, spurred on by gas and alcohol thrown with the torches. The flames and smoke choked the wolves inside, and it was then that they realized the poison in their veins. 

Klaus had coughed, sputtered. He had seen his sister, his only sister, the next leader of the pack, racing towards the main room from the back. Of course she would try and save people, save her siblings, her mother, her father. She would die trying. He knew what he had to do. Klaus had leapt at the door and slammed it shut with his shoulder. The smoke was filling his lungs and he barely heard his sister screaming, scratching, pounding at the door. She wanted to help so bad, but he wouldn’t let her die. He wouldn’t. “Live,” he had said to her, “live for us.”

Alcher had covered her mouth and crawled frantically around the room. The poison in her blood had made her slow and tired. She managed to scrape open the fireplace, the flu. Claws tore at brick as she hoisted herself up, clinging to the tiny space as hard as possible.

And there she’d waited, for what felt like hours, listening to her family scream in agony as they burned to death or suffocated. All of them. She’d tried to cover her ears but it hadn’t worked. 

And when the fire had settled and the hunters had all left, Alcher fell from the chimney into the remains of her family home, with the charred bodies of her pack, and the last remnants of her life gone forever. 

It had been over three decades since that day. Today, it would all end. One way or another, it would all end.

Alcher looked back down from her gaze up at the outline of the moon on the dusk horizon. “You came,” she said, her voice thick and hollow, “I commend you.” 

Nothing would keep Kaden from reaching the spot in the woods they’d agreed to. Not the pollen, not the plants, not a single damn monster in this town. There was only one that mattered. Every slice through the flora with his machete felt like meditation, a metronome counting down to a long awaited moment.

Waiting, he remembered the waiting, the hope that his parents would show up at the door even though it had been well over a day since they said they’d be back. They must have just found another monster, got caught up in shit. He didn’t expect to see Oscar when the door finally swung open.

Their bodies were barely recognizable, mauled and torn apart into pieces. There was still no doubt that it was them. He’d have known the sight of his world falling apart anywhere. 

Oscar told him to wait to hunt the wolf, they would regroup, get them in time. He didn’t wait, he wouldn’t. He’d nearly died. Every single fucking time Kaden was on the brink of getting his fucking revenge, something went wrong. And he had to sit and wait. And hope that he’d get another chance.

Kaden was done waiting.

There was plenty to take care of in town, a lot happening, as usual. Death was everywhere in White Crest.He knew his duty was to protect the town from monsters, to keep humans safe as they could be in a place like this. Maybe that should be tending to the plants and the roots cropping up around town. Kaden didn’t care. This wasn’t just revenge, this was keeping the town safe. This was going to ensure no one else would have their family ripped away from them. 

As he pushed through to the clearing, he expected to see a wolf waiting there for him in the dusty dusk light. Instead, she appeared like the woman he’d met in the coffee shop, the lie. His teeth gnashed against each other as he tossed his machete to the side, swapping it for a silver blade. “I don’t need your fucking commendations,” he spat back at her. “Of course I fucking came. It’s about time we ended this.”

Alcher rolled her neck, hearing it pop a little. She couldn’t help the excitement rushing through her body at the moment. The anticipation of a hunt always made her anxious, and the coming of the full moon was making her muscles buzz. She was ready to fight. She was ready to kill. This was what she had to do, she had to end it. The pillar had shown her the right decision, but the one she’d made was this one, and now she had to see it through. Besides, the hunter was no longer a child. He no longer deserved her mercy. 

Tugging off her jacket, she dropped it behind her and stepped forward into the light. She made sure to put her prosthetic foot out first, so he could see it. So he could see the damage his family had caused her. If she was going to face the mistakes of her past, then he would face the mistakes of his own as well. Of his father’s, his mother’s. They’d left her alive and that had been their downfall. She’d left him alive, but she would not let him be her downfall.

She tapped the leg. “Did you ever ask why the three-legged wolf only had three legs?” she said, tilting her head as she walked casually around the grove. A predator sizing up its prey. No…a predator sizing up its enemy. A competition of territory. An endless battle. “Surely you must have wondered at some point. Why would I kill your parents specifically? Did you tell yourself it was meaningless? That I did it simply because that is what I am, a killer? A wild animal? Perhaps it was just chance, bad luck on their part, that they ran across me during that moon. Tell me, what lie did you make up for yourself? I am curious.” 

Kaden’s knuckles went pale as the shining silver blade they were wrapped around. There the monster stood in front of him, trying to make herself appear human. As if she could. Why? Did she want pity? To tap into some sort of empathy within him? Make him softer, easier to fight? Wasn’t going to happen. “No,” he said sharply. “Because I don’t fucking care.” It didn’t matter how many legs she had, he would tear into her all the same. 

His other hand hovered over the pistol in his pocket, wondering if he should cut to the chase and get this all over with, put the nail in the coffin for good. 

The muscles in his chest pulled tight; he wasn’t sure if it was from holding himself back or the anger burning through him. He didn’t care about the beast’s reasons or if there was some fucking meaning or ulterior motive. It didn’t matter. They were dead whatever her fucking reason was. “They were on a hunt for a wolf. They didn’t fucking stumble in blindly.” His mind raced to try and piece together the rest. All he ever told himself was that he was the reason their mission failed. If he had been there, if they had one more hunter with them, it might have been different. But instead they insisted he wasn’t ready. A few weeks later, he proved them right by nearly dying to claws of the same wolf, the one standing across from him now. His jaw ached, he could feel his eyes starting to sting. Kaden gripped his pistol, silver bullets loaded and ready, and pointed it at the monster. He should pull the trigger, be done. “If you’re going to talk make it fast.”

“Really?” Alcher said back, feigning surprise. “You really never asked yourself if that was the truth? That they were simply hunting another wolf when I came across them?” Her eyes narrowed as the gun lifted. She could smell the silver. It didn’t matter. Once she changed, she would disappear into the shadows and tear him apart. She stopped walking and bent down, undoing one of the clasps on her prosthetic. “You know,” she started out slowly, leaning back against a tree, “Ariana asked me to not go after you. I promised her I would not. You supposedly mean something to her.” The red hot anger in her chest burned at the thought. Ariana had made a mess of herself in befriending not one, but two hunters. Something needed to be done about that. There was no more brushing it aside. “Then again, this is not me coming after you, is it?” She undid the second clasp. “This is just two people, meeting in a quarry.” 

She removed the leg and set it next to the tree, dropping down onto hands and knees, not changing quite yet. She still had something more to say. Perhaps she’d even let herself lose control, shift half-way, and truly become the monster he thought she was. “It was no chance I happened upon your parents, Kaden Langley,” she snarled, teeth growing sharp, gold eyes now glowing in the dim light. “I hunted them down mercilessly after I killed all their friends along the way.” Nails grew sharp to match, piercing the dirt in the ground. Her voice grew rough, like a snarl. “I killed them because they killed my family!” she roared, bones cracking, fur sprouting. She sprinted at him, a crazed look in her eyes, claws outstretched. “You can call me a monster all you want, but your parents are the ones who burned my little brothers alive!” A swipe. “And my mother, my father,” the pain in her voice was turning into ire. “They took everything from me! I took pity on you, gave you mercy.” She spat on the ground. “And yet here you are, standing before me as if your vengeance is more righteous than mine.” Her lip curled up in a smirk. “You may not think you are a monster, but you are certainly the child of some.”

“The truth?” Kaden shot back. Every word from her lips made his blood curdle a little more. “The fucking truth is you killed the only family I had!” He flipped the safety off, uninterested in whatever tale she had to spin. The reasons didn’t matter, all that mattered was the results. He could feel the rage about to boil over, his aim almost shaking as he held tight to the gun, trying to contain the anger. The fact that she had the gall to casually lean against a tree, putain, he should fucking shoot her now, maybe then she’d take him seriously. His finger was on the trigger when she mentioned Ari. “What’d you say?” A pit dropped in his stomach, first with shock, worry, but it turned again to anger. “You stay the fuck away from Ariana.” He should have figured that the younger wolf had met others in the area, but the thought of her being anywhere near this monster let alone close with her, it sickened him. Fuck. It should sicken him that he even gave a shit about a werewolf. What would his mother say? The same question the monster across the way had asked him not long ago, he could almost hear them ringing in his ears. The pistol was wobbling back and forth by now. Fuck. Kaden lowered his arm, shoving the knife in its sheath again and taking the gun with both hands, holding it lower than before. He couldn’t show any weakness. He wouldn’t. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t soft. And he was going to kill this monster.

His breathing grew heavier as he approached her, every footfall deepening the shade of red he saw, every word she spat like poison in his ears. He hated this monster, despised it for decades. Then he had thought it was just a beast, a brute. Now he knew better. By her own fucking confession. She hadn’t just ripped his life apart in a twist of unfortunate fate, she had planned it. “I don’t want your fucking mercy,” he shouted back. “I want some goddamn justice,” he said, raising the gun back up at level to fire at the monster shifting into its true form. 

Alcher lowered herself, nearly to the ground. Limbs cracked and bones split as she shifted more and more. Golden eyes flashed up at the hunter. “You and I both know,” she growled, face contorting into a snout, sprouting fur, “there is no such thing as justice in this world.” And it was fine, then, if he didn’t want mercy. She wouldn’t hold back. She would rip his throat out and show it to Ariana and tell her that this, this is what she would get if she continued to think hunters were anything but killers. The transformation finished and there would be no more talking. It was time to fight. 

Alcher lunged right for him, but swerved at the last moment, disappearing into the shadows of the trees, her sleek form small but light, making barely a noise as she ran through the bushes, looking for an opening. His hearing would afford him the ability to locate her easier, but she still had the upper hand– she had the moon. Alcher leapt and pushed off a tree, claws outstretched, aiming for his back. This world had no honor just as much as it had no justice.

The second he saw her, it, the monster who haunted his nightmares, pummeling towards him Kaden held his ground and pulled the trigger, shot booming through the forest. The beast swerved away, he missed, and threw himself to the side to avoid any claws. He wouldn’t miss again. When he pushed up to his feet, he saw he was alone, nothing but him and the trees. Coward. Kaden focused, listened not just to the sounds around him, but his hunter senses. His spine tingled as he heard the sound of claws scraping against bark. The ranger spun around and took another shot, again tossing himself out of her reach. Not quite fast enough; talons shared through his side, ripping his shirt. Blindly, Kaden fired off the rest of the round where the wolf should be. No time to reload. Not yet. He tore out his knife and sprinted towards the monster.

A bullet grazed her shoulder and Alcher snarled at the pain. Silver burned. She skid to a stop, blood on her claws, whipping her head around to find the hunter, ducking away as more shots rang out, blindly fired. One hit a tree by her head. She gave a loud roar and leapt back for him, barreling into him as she disappeared into the shadows behind him once again. Blood matted the black fur on her shoulder as she paced silently through the trees, sizing him up, looking for any weaknesses. He was just a boy, she had years on him. She had more blood on her paws. She would not lose this. She would not lose Ariana. 

There. She noticed how he favored his leg. This time she shot out from the bushes like a shadow herself, teeth and claws aimed for his leg. She craved blood. She wanted blood.

Kaden was knocked back down, tumbling back before he could find his feet. Focus. He had to focus. Be his best. No, the best. His mother’s voice, her constant corrections in training ran through his mind. He’d do his family proud. He’d live up to his legacy even if it was the last thing he did. He snapped back towards the wolf, gritting his teeth against the pain in his side as he twisted to face her. When he pushed off towards the beast, his leg wavered under him, pain shooting through him from the swipe he took in his calf in the cemetery the other day. He’d aimed his knife high, going for her already injured shoulder, but the monster ducked low, teeth sinking into his leg, the same one. Kaden swung his blade wildly as he screamed, all finesse and precision gone in his pain. He kicked out at her with his free leg, desperately fighting to get the vermin off of him, and plunged the knife into any piece of flesh it could find. 

Jaws closed around flesh and Alcher tasted blood. Hunter blood. How she loved the taste of it. A booted foot slammed into the side of her head but she kept hold of his leg, yanking back and popping the bone from its socket. She remembered how sweet the fae’s blood had tasted when they had fought like this. A child seeking vengeance for the death of their parent by Alcher’s hand. She’d done that fae a favor, freed her from her lying, hunter father. This boy, however, wasn’t like her. She would free him from this world by taking his life. 

But as she went to shake her head, leg still in her jaws, a silver knife pierced her ribs and she let go of his leg with a howl. Raised a paw and swiped at his face before she scattered backwards, twisting around for the knife, yanking it from her flesh. She could smell her skin and fur burning as she launched the knife away into the bushes. Then, slowly, she turned back to the hunter. The boy. She could almost remember exactly what he’d looked like, cowering under her last time. Just a child. She should’ve killed him then. Dripping with blood, from her mouth, her claws, her fur– this time it was his instead of his parents’. As she stood up on her hind legs, glowering down at the bloodied man beneath her, she remembered her promise to not grant him mercy. Paws hit the ground again and she snarled. Run. 

She wanted a chase.

Kaden’s vision changed from red to white as the pain burned through his leg. He tried to hold back his scream, remain strong, he could deal with his injuries later. Now he had to fight. He scrambled backwards, but not fast enough to avoid the sting of sharp claws swiping his face. No. This wasn’t how it was going to go. He wasn’t going to let this monster kill off the last Langley. His shout of pain shifted to a scream of rage. He reached for his blade, but it was gone. Shit. He fumbled for this pistol, the one he hadn’t fucking reloaded. As he glanced up, he shot back to another time, another place. He was younger, greener, and the air was colder and the world felt harsher. This was the same sight he’d seen before, the same metallic taste of his own blood in his mouth, the same moment right before he was sure he was going to meet his end. The same fear shot through him then as it did now at the thought. Kaden tried to steel himself, push it away, but his shallow breaths betrayed him. 

The beast bore down at him and he winced, flinching away. No more pain came. Just snarling and spit. Seconds mattered out in the field. Kaden hated himself for wasting a single one in fear. He pushed himself off the ground, stumbling under his injured leg, but sprinting towards where he’d seen the knife land all the same. He just had to get his weapon in hand and he could take back control. This was his fight to lose. 

If a wolf could smile, Alcher’s would be wicked. The hunter took off, limping on his injured leg. She watched him go, smelled his blood on the air, tasted it on her teeth. She rolled her shoulders and felt the sting of silver in her side. This was getting fun. She hadn’t been able to enjoy a good fight in some time. There were few around who could match her strength. There was a reason, after all, why she’d lived so long. 

Paws scraped at the ground again as she took off in a sprint. She enjoyed the hunt, the thrill of it making her muscles crackle. So consumed with her prey– yes, he was prey now. He was prey the moment she tasted his blood– and the moon, nothing else mattered. She ran faster, panting, ramming into his injured side, whipping around and ramming into him again. She wanted to hunt. She wanted to kill. Her mother had always told her not to play with her food but her mother wasn’t around anymore. Alcher stood on hind legs again and swatted at the hunter, a cackle like howl gurgling in her throat. She was enjoying this. She liked killing. She would always like killing. It didn’t matter how much had changed since she’d come to White Crest, the previous decades of her life had been nothing but killing and Alcher knew that she would be nothing but a killer. 

Her tail swished once, and then she pounced.

Knife in hand, Kaden spun around to face the monster only to it barreling towards him. He dug his leg in, tried to brace himself, and managed to stand through the first slam. The second sent him tumbling back. He held tight to the knife, nothing else mattered. As long as he had the blade, he had a chance. Felt appropriate that he’d named this one Last Chance of all things. This wasn’t going to be his last chance, no. Fuck that. This was hers. He let the pain that coursed through him turn into adrenaline, feeling the pounding in his chest, his blood pumping through him even as it spilled from his side and from his leg. She batted at him again, and again he concentrated on the rush instead of the sting. When she pounced towards him, his knife was ready, slashing out at her one good hind leg as all three came towards him, pinning him down. The beast growled, and so did Kaden as he twisted the silver deep into its leg, pulling it out to aim for the chest. One last chance before the pain took over, before the claws sunk deeper into his shoulders. One last chance to secure his legacy. 

The silver dug into Alcher’s leg and she roared again, head whipping around, teeth finding flesh and metal. She reared her head, knocking the knife away again, lifting her paws before slamming them back down on his chest. Opened her mouth and let out an enormous roar that echoed through the trees. Birds went scattering from the tops of them. Her jaw clenched closed and she looked down into his eyes, his pale face, stained with blood shining in the moonlight. This, she said with her eyes, this was what your legacy amounted to. It amounted to nothing. Just like hers. They were both nothing, and it was time for this feud to end. Her jaw opened as her claws pinned his arms and she lowered her mouth to his neck. It was time to end this.

Something was wrong. From the moment Ariana stepped into the cabin to check in with Alcher before the full moon and was greeted by no one, she felt her stomach flipping. It was possible she went out into the woods early, but that rationalization didn’t feel quite right either. The worry for both Alcher and Kaden that had left her in a constant state of restlessness these past few weeks didn’t allow her to fool herself into believing this was a best case scenario sort of deal. When had her life ever been? The only thing she could do was follow her nose and leave that sinking feeling behind as she ran. With only hours until the full moon, her senses were all on high alert. It was easy enough to find her trail, still fresh. Normally, she’d keep some sense of stealth padding through the forest, but there was no time for that. She ran as fast as her body would carry her with no regard for the snaps of twigs and stones under her feet. The further she followed her nose, the more panicked she became. The smell of blood was drenching the air and something else familiar. Wood, spice, and sweat. No. Her heart leapt into a full on panic and thudded erratically against her chest. It only served to make her breath more haggard as she pushed her legs to move even faster. She could hear the clear sounds of a fight now. The struggle, the growls, the grumbles, and tumbling. A fight she could deal with, if only she made it there fast enough. When she finally saw them, grappling for control and both bleeding, she screamed, “No!” Everything in her was pleading for them to just stop. For this whole bullshit cycle of vengeance and violence to just end. “Please,” she pleaded as she charged to try and pull them apart. 

So enthralled with her prey, Alcher hadn’t sensed Ariana’s approach at all. Not until the girl was crying out and Alcher could smell her sweat and hear her heart pounding. The black wolf turned its head away from the hunter and towards the pup. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Alcher was supposed to finish him off and stumble back and tell her that it was over, that he’d come for her and she’d ended it. And Ariana would be sad for a while, but then she’d realize that this was all for the better. That there was no way for hunter and wolf to live in harmony. That eventually, if he was allowed to live, he would turn on Ariana, too. That whatever exception he seemed to be making for her would give out eventually. It always did. She just wanted her to see that. She just wanted Ariana to be safe. And so she let go of the hunter.

Kaden used every piece of strength he possessed to try and push the wolf away, to kick the beast away from him. This wasn’t over, this couldn’t be over. His teeth ground together as he strained against the monster, hot breath steaming along his neck. He shut his eyes and wondered if this was what his parents felt. He saw them, he saw Regan, Celeste, all in flashes, and he swore he heard Ari.

Kaden’s eyes shot open and turned to see her. She was really there. Fear flooded through him as he saw her. Not for him, for her. He couldn’t explain it, couldn’t rationalize, just felt the deep need to push her out of here, get away from all of this. She shouldn’t be here. Why was she here? Before he could piece this all together, the weight lifted off of him and he scrambled away, fumbling for his pistol and the silver bullets, his hands shaking. Fuck. Fuck. He couldn’t get them to load in the fucking gun. He couldn’t– he couldn’t… He could barely see, his vision fading in and out a moment, his head felt light. “Get out of here,” he told the girl he’d come to see like a sister. “This–” isn’t your business. But he couldn’t finish the sentence. 

There was no sense of relief to be found. Not even as Alcher let go of Kaden and he put distance between them. He was still fumbling with his gun and Ariana felt glued in place. Normally, she was so ready to spring into action, but the opponent had always been clear before. This felt like she was being ripped in two, unable to jump into action, paralyzed by the affection she felt for both of them. Kaden’s words only just registered in her mind and she shot him a sharp glare. She wasn’t going anywhere, that was the only thing that felt certain. “No.” Her voice came out shaky and raw with emotion at first. Such a contrast to the stoic ferocity Alcher possessed. “No,” she said, this time stronger. Her glare flicked between the both of them as she finally remembered herself and pushed her feet forward. If she could just get between them, keep them away from each other, it’d be okay. Maybe they’d hate her, but at least they’d be alive to hate her. There was so much she wanted to say. She wanted to go on and on about how this cycle of revenge would never be enough. No amount of violence would ever take away the pieces of their hearts that were lost along the way. But the words never came. “Please,” she begged, slowly getting closer to them, “This has to stop. This whole back and forth.” Not very convincing, but she could barely hear her own thoughts over the way her heart hammered on in her ears. 

Alcher didn’t move as the hunter scrambled away. She let her body fade from wolf back to humanoid, clothes tattered, covered in blood. Sharp eyes turned back toward the hunter as he fumbled for his gun. Alcher felt suddenly tired. She shifted enough to sit up onto her knee, resting the stub of her amputated leg on the ground. She looked from Ariana to the hunter and wondered what he might do. If he would kill her. “What now, then?” she said thickly, wiping blood from her face and licking it off her hand. Golden eyes flashed. “We part ways only to do this again? And again?” She couldn’t stand, but even if she did have her prosthetic, she didn’t think she’d be able to. She was bleeding worse than she wanted to admit. Her blood was pooling beneath her. “Or will you walk away from what you have craved for so long? What is worth more to you?” She glanced at Ariana, holding up a hand in warning. Do not come closer. She feared the hunter, trembling in pain and confusion, might miss his aim. “Your vengeance or your love?”

The bullets found their way into the pistol and the pistol into his hand. Kaden pulled himself to his feet only to lose his balance, reaching out for a tree to steady himself. He wiped blood from his face with the back of his hand, still holding the gun casually. He was ready to raise it to the monster, finish this, when the beast he’d hunted for so long faded away. “No,” he said. “Turn back.” He raised the gun at her as if it made any damn difference. “Turn back!” he shouted. He didn’t want to kill the facade, the human face she put on to blend in, he wanted to kill the monster, the vermin who shattered his world. 

He almost forgot about Ariana, so close and so far removed from this at the same time. Kaden turned to catch her eye, saw the fear and panic in her. His heart sunk for a moment, but the anger found its way back to the surface as he looked back to the monster. “This has nothing to do with her,” he spat back, gun still raised. 

Alcher kept her hand raised in a halting gesture to Ariana. “It has everything to do with her,” Alcher said simply. “I stopped because of her. You are alive right now because of her.” She shifted, pulling herself up to stand, holding onto a tree herself to stay standing. She leaned back against it. Her other hand pressed to her side. The silver had burned the edges of the wound and left it open. It had hit an organ. Her world was going dark. She’d lived a long time in the dark. “I spared you because you were a child,” she finally said, her voice raw but no longer angry. She looked upon the hunter with nothing but pity. “Maybe if your parents had done the same, neither of us would be in this situation.” 

The only thing Kaden could manage to hold steady was the gun in front of him. Well, mostly steady. Good enough. I spared you because you were a child. His brows knit together and the words rattled around his mind. Ari’s presence just a few meters away hung over him. Celeste was a hunter and had spared her because she was a child. And the monster… she? She spared him? He had always wondered how he didn’t die back in the forest in Lyon, but he didn’t ever think that would be the reason. “You–” None of this made sense. Not one damn thing. This was supposed to be easy. Cut and dry. Black and white. Over and done. “The hell does that even mean? What– What are you saying? That–” Kaden shook his head, as if it would clear the thoughts, but nothing made any fucking sense anymore. 

“I mean I looked down at you and I saw myself,” Alcher said simply. She drew in a deep, shaky breath, holding a moment before letting it go. “When I killed your parents, I did not know they had a child. I did not care. I did not think they cared to know the children they killed. My brother’s. Dearg was not even a decade old. Lutz just barely so.” He was faltering, she could see it. Just a little more. If she was going down, so was he. “Did you know they begged?” she muttered, a nasty smile curling onto bloody lips. “Your parents. It makes sense now. They begged me not to kill them. I asked them, if my brother’s had begged, would they have spared them? But I knew the answer. And I enjoyed it. Killing them. That was my purpose.” She leaned forward, standing on her one leg, bloody hand pressed to the tree. They were no more than ten feet apart. He wouldn’t miss if he shot. “I will never stop,” she told him firmly, “we both know that. And the lesson I learned from you, Langley, was that mercy is a weakness.”

The mere suggestion that they were at all the same flared the anger inside him once more. If he wasn’t saving his strength for the killing blow, he’d have told her he didn’t give a fuck about her siblings, either. But that smile. That fucking smile. Kaden pushed himself forward, hobbling towards the werewolf, gun still in hand. The image of his parents begging for life just before she took it from them was all that was seared into his mind as he came closer and held the pistol to her chest, finger ready to pull the trigger as he did his best to stand up straight and not collapse under the injuries and pain. “Fine,” he said, finger on the trigger, ready to end this. “Then I’ll make you. I take it you won’t beg.” Mercy is a weakness. She was right. His mother had said something similar. She’d be proud of him now. Just one thing left to do.

The scene before Ariana had her frozen in place. Alcher’s hand commanded as much and while it wouldn’t be the first time she went against her wishes, for a moment she thought maybe the older wolf was getting through to Kaden. But then it turned sour. Her words bore the same ferocity as her teeth and claws and Ariana felt any sense of hope she had disappeared. The unpleasant twist in her stomach was ignored as she tried to weasel her way in closer, but Kaden was already closing in on Alcher before she could even fully take in the shift in the air. The tension only grew. “Kaden, please.” The shaking in her voice matched the shaking in her hands. So torn between the both of them and so tired of all of this. “Both of you, just please, stop.” She couldn’t remember ever hearing this much desperation in her own voice, but so much was on the line. If they didn’t stop, she lost either way. Deep down, she knew there was no outcome where she didn’t lose. 

“Was it okay, then?” Alcher asked, not looking away as the hunter stumbled forward. She couldn’t run even if she wanted to. “Was the slaughter of my family justified because we are not human? Is that what you tell yourself? That you are not like me, you are not a monster, because you do not kill people?” She grit her teeth. “How long before you turn those views on Ariana? If we are but monsters, what does that make her? Are you telling me she is a monster to you? That as soon as you deem her dangerous, you will put this gun to her chest?” She reached out with her hand and grabbed the barrel of the gun, holding it in place. “Look in my eyes, hunter. Look in my eyes and know that if you kill me, then you are no better than me. Kill me as a human and face the truth behind your lies.”

His fingers were on the trigger, his eyes locked on her’s. This was almost over. All he had to do was fire a shot, brace himself for the kickback, and walk away. Before he could steel himself, he heard Ari’s voice. In his blind rage, he almost forgot she was right there, watching this whole scene play out a few steps away. Kaden saw her face, the desperation and the tears and he felt himself wavering, his hand going to pull away. There it was again, the hesitation, the doubt; two things he always seemed to find when in her presence. 

The monster’s question snapped him back to reality, what hesitation meant. It meant death. Mercy is what left Lydia alive while he walked away, something he regretted to this day. He endangered Ariana, Regan, and so many others then. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. His eyes narrowed as he stared into the golden eyes staring back at him, challenging him. “She’s nothing like you,” he said, pushing the barrel of the gun further into her chest. He knew that much. She wasn’t. Ari would neve be as cruel and disgusting as the beast at the end of his pistol. Even though she had… No, that didn’t fucking matter. It wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the same. She wanted the cycle of violence to end, she’d said as much at one point. She wanted peace and a better world. The Krieg wolf was right about one thing; she’d never stop. She’d keep killing and continue the violence over and over. What was worse was she’d try to pull Ari into her vortex. There was only one way to stop this, to end it for good. He couldn’t show mercy. 

The gunshot was deafening. The sound pulsed through the forest as Kaden reeled back from the impact of the silver bullet piercing the wolf’s chest. Blood poured out, gushing. 

That was it. It was over. He’d fulfilled his revenge, his legacy. Got his justice. 

Why did he feel so hollow as he stumbled backwards onto the forest floor, watching the scene play out in front of him? The one he’d pictured over and over in his mind. Somehow, it was never like this. The final moments, the final hunt, the final feelings of anger flushing away. It was like a distorted view, a manipulated photo in the frame. Only this was the reality. This was it. The end of his revenge. 

Alcher’s body slumped to the ground, back pressed to the tree. Her blood smeared along the bark, pouring from the silver hole in her chest. The world was fading away, pain overtaking everything else. She didn’t cry, she didn’t yell, she stayed silent as death creeped up her body and into her bones. A hand to her chest, she looked up at the hunter, stumbling away, looking at the scene of his revenge. She managed one last smile. “Es braucht ein monster, um ein monster zu töten.” It takes a monster to kill a monster. It was the one lesson she’d learned in her life. She had been a monster and she always would be. There was nothing more for her in this life than that. She could have had more, but she’d made the wrong choice. This was always going to be the end. No matter what future the watch had shown her, this was the one she’d been destined for. 

Her breath left her with the smile still on her face, head slumping forward.

She was going home now.

For a fraction of a second, Ariana thought she may have gotten through to Kaden. His face faltered at the sound of her voice and she’d let herself grab onto an inkling of hope. If there was one thing she should have known by now, it was that hope was far too dangerous. The worst case scenario is what would play out more often than not. That hope was shattered far too quickly as the gunshot rang throughout the forest. She couldn’t even register the sound of her own scream that left her throat raw. Everything felt as if it was moving in slow motion, it took Alcher’s body far too long to slump to the ground and her own limbs felt like they were moving through far too slowly, as if she was trudging through deep mud.

By the time she had knelt down next to Alcher on the ground, she could no longer hear her heartbeat and or breathing. She was gone. She was gone because she listened to her. After a life that showed the elder wolf that hunters possessed nothing but cruelty, she still listened to Ariana and tried to put it aside. Tried to see the world she wanted to see and now she was just gone. The rug had been pulled out from underneath her and it was hard to see the world she hoped for. She took a limp hand in her own and barely whispered, “I’m sorry.” The grief and well of emotion coursing through her was quickly replaced with rage. 

Her head shot up to look at Kaden with a cold glare. Other than the tears in her eyes, her whole face hardened. Ariana could feel her bones begging to shift, begging to give in to the anger and let violence give her a moment of comfort. She attempted a deep breath, but her breaths remained shallow and she gripped onto Alcher’s hand harder to ground herself. Hurting him would only give her a moment of relief followed by a lifetime more of guilt. Even as she glared him down, he looked defeated. This wasn’t a victory. It didn’t give him any sense of closure. Nothing could ever bring loved ones back. She still struggled against her body’s natural instinct to lash out, to protect the pack. “Go,” she growled. While her bones fought beneath her, warring over which form she’d take, she kept her scowl steady. For once, she felt she possessed the stoic ferocity Alcher always had, only she now wasn’t here to show it. “Go,” she barked out again.

Her eyes returned to the wolf bleeding out before her. She’d see to it that her body was taken care of with the respect it deserved. She’d bring her home, the one place Alcher had finally let herself call home after all those years drifting from place to place, from pack to pack. A place Ariana would make sure was a safe haven for any wolves that needed it. 

Es braucht ein monster, um ein monster zu töten. Kaden was frozen, the words ringing again in his head. Looking in front of him, it didn’t feel like a hunt. It didn’t feel like revenge. It didn’t feel like closure. Or justice. It felt like murder. The pistol was lowered, but his grip was still tight around the handle. What did he do now? Where did he–

His gaze had been so fixated on those eyes, the golden eyes, now lifeless and hollow, that he didn’t register that Ari was there, holding the body. The body. It wasn’t a monster anymore, not a nightmare or the object of revenge anymore. Just a body. 

The first growl didn’t hit his ears. There was too much nothing. His eyes darted from the gold to the green. She was changing. He had killed one wolf only to be faced with another. Fear shot through him as he watched her, the first thing he felt since the bullet tore through flesh. So this was how this ended. He wouldn’t make it out of here alive after all. The circle of violence never ended. He hadn’t stopped it. He thought– He thought…

Her warning was clear. There was no time for thought. Kaden wasn’t sure what stirred him, what pulled him to his unsteady feet to hobble away. He couldn’t say how he got to his apartment. Or when. Or if the tears ever came or ever would. The only thing he did know was nothing. The hollow emptiness of nothing that carved away inside of him. So this was the cost of justice. Everything. All for nothing.

[walker-journal]

The Versipellis of the 7/11 (Adam + Kaden)

Characters: Kaden Langley (Hunter-Liz), Adam Walker (Hunter-Tapir)

Summary: Kaden and Adam go to a canabalistic crime scene and find themselves tracking down a familiar foe.

Content Warnings: Gun Use, Head Trauma 

Lycanthropy and all its permutations wasn’t Adam Walker’s specialty. However Versipellis curse was something he had personal experience with. Adam had to force those memories down as he examined the cashier’s body, the man unrecognizable after being mostly cannibalized. The bite marks on his body resembled those of a human mouth in some places, but the size and jaw structure distended as the curse had taken hold of the perpetrator, twisting them into something that’d eventually chomped this guy’s head in half like a pumpkin gourd.

Adam began the morbid task of rifling through the victim’s possessions, constructing guesses from clues and what he already knew. The Hunter’s gloved fingers flipped through bloodstained debit cards and receipts in what was left of the guy’s wallet. Crisp electronic clicks began as Adam rubbed enough dark gore off a smartphone to sift through photos of family and the most recent texts.

It seemed like a form of desecration to so casually paw through a person’s life before their corpse had even cooled. Adam wasn’t a naturally nosy dude and felt only a cold pit in his stomach as he scrutinized this window into the everyday complexity of someone else’s personhood. But they didn’t have time to spare, and Adam had been conditioned to suppress any squicky sentimentality that might interfere with the mission.

“Our victim is Michael P. Brewer, thirty six year old man, five feet and nine inches, one hundred and forty three pounds,” Adam rattled off with militaristic dispassion as he knelt over what was left of the body. “He was about to get off shift, but his replacement attacked while he was busy with the punch card. The bites began at the neck until the perpetrator’s increasing bulk forced Michael to the floor, where he was eaten alive. He is survived by his wife: Crow Brewer,” he finished.

“The likely perp is Tammy L. Killian, twenty nine year old woman, black hair, about five-six from this photo,” Adam held up a screenshot from Michael’s phone where the now intact man stood smiling next to his coworker at a union meeting. “She was texting Michael about wanting to come in for her shift despite suffering a bite from a wild animal that ate her dog last night.”

Adam looked up at the more experienced Hunter. “What’s the call Langley?”

When Kaden got the call from Walker about a body in the convenience store, he didn’t hesitate.  As much as hunting gave him pause recently, he wouldn’t leave the kid hanging. Even if he had to squash the voice in the back of his head telling him to call it in to the authorities. Didn’t last long. Not when he heard the basics of the situation. This was stained with supernatural shit, no doubt.

The first thing he did when they walked in, after placing the police tape to keep out any one else who might wander by, was head straight for the security cameras. Technology was far from his strong suit, but years of keeping the supernatural secret (and keeping himself out of prison) was enough for him to learn a few tricks here and there how to destroy evidence. Lucky for them, the whole setup was far from complicated. Kaden ripped the cameras out of the corners of the place and slammed them to the ground before giving them a good stomp with his boot for good measure. He reached behind the counter and gave the CCTV screen there and the box attached to it the same treatment.

By the time he was done, Walker was already halfway through rifling the victim's belongings. There were times Kaden regretted getting involved with law enforcement. Times like now, when he had that nagging feeling that he was going against his duty as WCPD. Examining the body before even considering reporting it. Still, his duty to the hunter’s codes went back far longer than any job and would endure long past that. Of course. Well, unless he-- That didn’t matter. The point was he was a hunter first. It was in his blood, he couldn’t walk away from his genetics even if he wanted to. He didn’t have to ask for details, Walker was good at delving them out as he went.

“Bite from a wild animal, huh?”  Kaden huffed out a laugh. They both knew damn well what that meant. “You said you thought this was a versipellis case,” he stated, leaning down to get a better look at the body. He’d seen injuries like this before. Unfortunately. “Gotta agree.”

He stood up, cracked his knuckles and glanced back over his shoulder. No sign of anyone approaching. Good. Kaden turned back and gave Walker his answer. “We find the monster. We kill the monster.” There was no gesture or further explanation. Kaden started walking, following the trail of destruction. “Looks like it burst out the back,” he added, heading through what was left of the back door. Maybe they had a shot of catching up with the beast before it found another victim. He didn’t want to call Michael P. Brewer lucky but death was preferable to being turned by a versipellis of all things.

“There was a Verispellis case earlier that turned a selkie feral,” supplied Adam as he followed Kaden out the back door. That was the danger of the Turnskin. A single bite could lead to a domino effect of secondary infections and people devoured alive. Kinna like a zombie but with some giant doggo skinbursting as a treat.

“However the infection ran its course in that selkie without the transformation taking hold and he’s been stable since,” continued Adam, making an effort to keep his voice professionally neutral, as if David Herring were simply just a witness to a case. The rational part of Adam knew that Kaden probably wouldn’t have a problem with his noodling partner, considering who Regan was. However, the reflex towards covering his ass so was automatic that Adam didn’t even realize how he was speaking until the words were out of his mouth.

Adam looked around the alley culdesac they’d walked into, Brick walls surrounded them on three sides laden with cardboard debris and dumpsters. The Hunter’s eyes scanned past the refuse to fix on long white claw marks that'd been gouged one far of the brick walls as if the back legs of something huge had clambered up side after a leap.

“There over that wall,” Adam noted, already in the process of performing a running vault that carried him onto a dumpster and then onto the wall.

“It bit a selkie?” Kaden’s brows furrowed as he glanced back at the other hunter. There were a lot of questions there. First off, how Walker knew a selkie, which one, why he didn’t take care of said selkie while feral, how he knew any of this, if this was connected to the case Rio mentioned. Before he could decide where to begin, Walker at least allayed some of his concerns. Only some of them. “You’re sure he’s not going to turn?” In the end, that was the only question that mattered, right? He wasn’t sure a selkie could turn, but he’d seen weirder shit. “Guess I’ll have to trust you, Walker,” he answered just as flatly as the other hunter had in turn. It was strange how easily it could all come flooding back every time, the harshness, the simplicity of it all. There was a right and there was a wrong and nothing else in between. And no time for emotions or questions like the ones clawing to the forefront of his mind just then.

Kaden followed what he could see of the trail of destruction into the alleyway with Walker. Sure looked right to him, onto the dumpster and over the wall it was. He gave a curt nod and was about to check the lid of said dumpster when Adam took off. “Putain,” he muttered to himself, huffing a sigh before pulling himself onto it and hopping up to the wall. Not about to run and vault if he could avoid it. He wasn’t as old as Oscar yet but he sure as hell wasn’t about to show off for no goddamn reason.

He surveyed the scene ahead of him, looking for any more signs or clues. The crushed trash cans strewn about the streets leading to a busted fence seemed like the right answer. Kaden waved the other hunter on and followed the destruction towards what looked like a construction site. A new building, an old building, hard to say in this town. Nothing lasted too long, not when there were monsters crawling out of every crack and crevice. Kaden held his breath and tried to listen deep. He didn’t hear much beyond the wind rattling the unsteady beams and scaffolds, but he could feel the pin pricks along his spine signifying that some sort of lycanthrope was nearby. Whether it was the one they were looking for, that was a different question entirely. “I think it might be cl--” A creak and a scraping of metal came from above. Kaden didn’t need to look up to know the growling was coming from the same direction. Shit. Guess they found it alright.

Adam ran over to a figure crumbled amongst the cinderblocks. He dusted off a man in his late twenties whose red hair was greyed the construction site’s powdery rubble. Adam checked for a pulse and began cardiac compressions and mouth to mouth resuscitation.

Adam’s humanitarian concerns had drawn him farther into the construction site than Kaden. Evening’s amber light was broken by the skeletal silhouette of scaffolding and rebar, casting bars of shadow across the younger Adam as he attended to merciful procedure without enough care for his own surroundings.

A gagging cough signaled that Adam had been successful, and the Hunter helped his charge into a sitting position on one of the larger cinder-blocks. “Its Aaron Osheen,” Adam explained. “One of Killian’s coworkers...aw shit.” It was then that Adam got a better look at his rescuee, including the deep well of blood on Aaron’s calf. “Hey uh Langley we got a bite here…” However this thought was cut off as metal screeching and growling descended from above.

Kaden’s eyes were scanning along the scaffolds for any signs of claws and fangs. He saw a flash of motion somewhere in the distance when Walker called out to him. His attention shot around to see the other hunter standing over a victim. “How bad does it loo-- a bite?” Before Kaden could utter a single French curse word let alone the slew of them he had planned, a monster leapt out from the metal tower towards them.

He raised the gun in his hand and let the shots fly towards the beast, bangs ringing out in empty site. One hit. Enough to slow it, not enough to stop it. Kaden shot again, out of rounds. It closed in and reloading wasn’t an option. He reached for his knife and threw himself to the side of the versipellis, slashing at its flank. It whipped around and he could feel its hot breath hanging in the air. Which meant the fangs were close enough to snap his arm in two. It swiped with its claws and Kaden rushed to its side again. Not fast enough to miss the talons sinking into his skin. But enough to give him the space to pull himself up the beams nearby. If he could get a vertical angle he’d have the advantage. He just needed Walker to hold his ground.  

Adam unslung his machete and did a pull-up on one of the hanging rebar poles. He performed a gymnast’s swing up onto what would eventually be this building’s second floor and faced the enormous wolf that was still covered in gore from tearing up a 7/11. As with many lycanthropes, ‘wolf’ was a crude generalization for the quadrupedal goliath of muscle and unnaturally proportioned limbs before him. It was far bigger than the largest kodiak bears and yet leapt from scaffolding and cinderblocks with a grace that was truly disconcerting in something that huge.

Adam moved to flank the thing trying to claw up Kaden, bringing his machete down in a two-handed slice down one of the versipellis’ back legs, mutant strength leveraging the blade straight through solid muscle. A howling whine of pain rewarded the raw aggression, and Adam succeeded in gaining the giant lycanthrope’s attention. He readied himself to be an elusive target while Kaden closed in for the kill from behind.

But pain lanced up his leg and Adam stumbled to one knee as something jerked his other leg off the scaffolding from below.

In a critical second of distraction, Adam glanced down into the bloodshot eyes of Aaron Osheen. The cashier has sunk his teeth into Adam’s leg, foaming spittle mixing with the Hunter’s blood. Aaron has clambered after Adam in a cursed frenzy, frantically trying to drag him down to the second floor to devour.

Kaden scrambled onto the ledge and reached for his second gun. His hand was around the handle, aimed, ready to let loose on the snarling beast below when he saw Walker dragged off to the side. Shit. The victim wasn’t a victim anymore. He turned his aim towards the other hunter and the cashier, thought about picking off a shot but it was too risky. There was no way to tell limb from limb. On top of that, the mass of fur, mange, and gore leapt up, clawing at the beams in front of him. Putain.

Kaden’s eyes darted and saw a platform across the way and sprinted. Hope this works. He threw himself across to the next patch of construction. He knew the monster could clear the space between them with ease but he’d made enough time to reload, fire a few more bullets into the lycan. The squeals and screams were a pretty good indication they hit, slow it, but it wasn’t down. And it was jumping to where Kaden was standing. He braced himself for impact as the claws came towards him. He knew he shouldn’t have closed his eyes, but some instincts were too hard to fight. He expected to feel sharp scratches of pain. Instead, gravity was giving way below them both. Fuck.

Adam watched Kaden and the wolf plummet down to the rubble of the first story in a tide wave of wood splitters and bent rebar. “Damn it.” He hadn’t been fast enough to grab Kaden out of the way, the civilian gnawing on his leg. Adam gritted his teeth and lifted both his leg and Aaron Osheen onto the second story with him. Fitting back rage at the feeling of his own flesh ripping in the cursed human’s teeth, Adam steadied his breathing. He needed to get Aaron off himself without pulverising the normie to death with too much force.

Adam let in one purposeful inhale, exhaled, and brought together both his hands on either side of Aaron’s temples, boxing his ears. Even holding back, the blow disoriented Aaron enough to release his jaw.

Adam hefted the concussed coughing guy off of him, tensed his abdomen, and flipped back up to his feet in one acrobatic movement. He looked down at where Kaden and the Versipellis had fallen, fastening his machete and drawing a silvered combat knife. Adam stood a running start before leaping down one store onto the Lycanthrope’s back from above, plunging the silver knife down into the beast.  

Kaden gasped for some of the air that was knocked from his lungs when his back slammed on the ground. Walker bought him a second to reach for his-- Fuck. Kaden went to wrap his fist around his gun to find nothing but wood chips in his hand. Weight pressed onto him and teeth flashed towards his flesh. He reached out and clambered for the first thing he could get his hands on. His fingers gripped the cold metal and he swung it at the beast’s head. Spit sprayed across the hunter’s face, but his jugular was still intact.

The wolf flinched, barely stunned, but Kaden pushed himself away, kicking his way out of the rubble. Gun was nowhere to be seen. He grabbed the small silver knife in his pocket. Not the best weapon, but it was the closest on hand. The monster had spun its attention to the hunter on its back, its claw reaching up to grab the younger hunter. No. Not today. Kaden thrust the small blade down through the monster’s foot, pinning it in place as it yowled in pain. Wouldn’t last. Was far from lethal. But he needed to buy time to bring out Last Chance.

Adam found himself in the precarious bucking bronco position of riding a Versipellis. He raised up the bloody silver knife to plunge it in again in search of a vital organ, but soon he was much more focused on trying not to be clawed off the lycanthrope’s back. Well aware that being dragged under the werewolf would likely end with his innards being raked out in seconds, Adam held on for dear life as he swung his leg narrowly out of the way of the annoyed wolf’s scratching claws.

Grabbing for any handhold as his world became a thrashing roller coaster, Adam’s every muscle was taut as he held onto to his grip and his lunch. Red-rimmed blackness closed in on the edge of his vision as an increasingly frantic swipe from the werewolf found purchase on his ribs. Adam had to shift his weight to the other side of the beast’s back to avoid being dragged down. Blood from his gouged side mingled with the puncture wounds he’d driven in the werewolf’s back, and Adam’s grip began to slip from the sheer amount of blood slickening everything.

Gritting his teeth Adam risked a one-armed hold around the werewolf’s massive neck to draw his silver knife again. He began to stab the blade into the Versipellis’ throat towards the jugular and…

Everything vanished in blackness and pain.

Adam’s ears rang with dull concussed clamor as he blearily opened his eyes. Blood ran down the back of his neck from where the Versipellis had ended the annoyance stabbing it from behind by intentionally ramming itself backwards into a cinderblock wall. Adam coughed and gagged up dark bile from internal wounds. He tried to summon the will to stand, and had gotten halfway to his feet and something slammed him down again.

Adam looked blearily up into the panting face of Aaron Osheen as the infected human opened his foaming mouth to bite down on the fallen hunter’s shoulder.

Kaden’s knife wasn’t in hand in time to stop the versipellis from throwing Walker across the crumbled construction like a ragdoll. His knuckles went white around the handle, his jaw clenched, and his heart pounding in his eardrums as he charged at the wolf. It made its move first, going straight for his shoulder. Kaden ducked to the right, the monster's momentum pulled him forward and it crashed into a support beam. Which might have been a good move. If a few dozen planks of wood didn’t come spilling down from above them. He covered his head, dove away but he got slapped around all the same.

The versipellis pivoted, pushed itself off the beam and pinned the hunter to ground. This time, Kaden was ready. Or he thought he was ready. He had his knife this time. But the monster sunk its claws into his shoulders, shoving him across the wooden beams, splinters digging into his back as he scraped across the lumber. Fangs found their way towards Kaden’s flesh. The hunter kicked and used every ounce of strength he had to brace against the beast with his arms.

Pain seared into his forearm as teeth pulled at his skin, tearing at it, shredding him. If he screamed or howled at the pain, Kaden didn’t know, couldn’t remember. All his focus, everything was on the knife. Bringing it down, digging it directly into its neck. Pushing it just a little farther and twisting it for good measure.

He felt the jaws around him loosen up and Kaden shoved the monster off of him. It was fading. Not fast enough. Kaden pushed himself up, was just about to lunge back at the wolf when he heard a different sort of growl from behind him.

His gaze shot to Aaron. And Adam. The versipellis was dying. He wasn’t about to let a hunter die, too. Kaden sprinted over to them, stumbling over the mess of beams and debris, and reached to grab Aaron by his collar and yank him back.

Adam staggered to his feet, covered in blood and dust. He leaned against a pillar of riveted steel for support as everything swam with dark spots and white flares. The younger Hunter looked from the dying wolf to the still frothing Aaron. “Thanks man,” he managed to gasp to Kaden. “We’ll need to get this dude in confinement till…”

Adam saw the Verspellis lunge forward, mad with lethal pain. The wounded lycanthrope rushed towards them, a frenzied juggernaut of bleeding muscle. “Kade! Heads up!”

The pain was starting to settle in and the adrenaline was waning. Kaden had the cashier by the collar and was more or less contained, Walker was still breathing, and the versipellis was--

Kaden turned to see the wolf tunneling towards him. Aaron was tossed aside with as much care as the hunter could manage. Sharp claws and fangs lunged at him. Kaden inhaled, braced for the pain, and threw himself at the monster. It tripped back. Kaden jammed his silver blade into the versipellis’ chest. Gravity took hold once again. This time it was the monster that gave way, falling back to the ground with a shrieking whine. The hunter pulled the blade down and out of the beast’s chest. All that was left was the twitching as the fight left its body and the light left its eyes.

Kaden wanted to collapse. Maybe catch his breath. Give the injuries a one over. But they weren’t done. Not yet. He pushed his blood covered body off the dead beast and turned his attention back to the cashier. “Got any ideas?” he asked as he reached to contain Aaron once more.

“I’ve got a bunker made from a buried cargo container,” noted Adam as he leaned against the steel pillar. It wasn’t exactly the most glorious hideout, but it sufficed for having a discreet place to store things. “There’s plenty of MREs and water in there. Aaron can be locked in there till the curse wears off?”

Adam staggered over to the downed wolf. Death didn’t do much to make the giant predator less intimidating, or easier to get the hell out of here. Everything hurt, but that wasn’t any excuse to just leave paranormal evidence out in the open.  “I can bring the truck around and we can load it under a tarp?” “Hey Langley,” Adam turned his bruise-covered face to Kaden. “Thank you, like seriously, you saved my ass back there.”

Kaden’s brows furrowed. “You’ve got a what?” Aaron tried to pull away and break from his grasp. Kaden focused back on the cashier and considered knocking him out. Might make things easier. Shit, was it ethical? Aaron lunged again and that settled it. Kaden struck at the cashier’s neck at a pressure point, catching the body as he fell unconscious and setting him down. If nothing else, gave them time to tie him up to get him to that bunker.

“Sounds good.” Kaden sighed looking over at the dead versipellis. It was a lot easier when this happened in the woods. Leaving monsters there was never an issue. Concern creased into his forehead as he looked back at Walker. “You think you can make it?” Kaden asked. He was pretty badly hurt. Sure, nothing new for the likes of them but it wasn’t pretty regardless.

“Don’t mention it, Walker,” Kaden replied, offering as much of a smile as he could manage, finally feeling the weariness wash over him. “You saved mine a few times there, too. And I wasn’t about to let you die out there.”

Adam grinned, a sunbeam amidst bruises and blood. “I’ll make it Kade. Here, help me get this mega-furry in the truck.”

[humanmoodring-retired]

Season’s Yeetings Pt. 2 || Blanche, Connor, Cordelia, Nadia, Regan, and Kaden

TIMING: Present  PARTIES: @harlowhaunted @connorspiracy @humanmoodring @kadavernagh @chasseurdeloup  SUMMARY: Another exorcism. The stakes are higher, and Nadia’s life hangs in the balance. feat Mav the Exorcist CONTENT: Self harm, suicide attempt (possession-driven)

Nadia had stabbed herself. She’d stabbed herself, and all she could really do was look down at her hands wrapped around the knife’s handle. She blinked, shock setting in faster than pain. She didn’t even feel it, really. Really. She looked up, trying to see Regan or Blanche or Connor or even Mav, but the only person she could focus on was the woman in the circle with her. Had she always been this blurry. No wonder she thought the red headed figure looked like Brooke an embarrassing number of times. This was Cordelia Gregory, and she was cruel, and she’d made Nadia stab herself. She’d stabbed herself. It was startling to her, just a little. She’d never expected Cordelia to make her stab herself. She’d never taken the threats Cordelia had made to others about killing Nadia seriously. She wasn’t worried about herself. She was worried about her friends, people that Cordelia had proven time and time again that she had no problem in hurting. She actually seemed to take a great deal of pleasure from it.

“Move your foot against the chalk line and let me out of the fucking circle,” Cordelia whispered in Nadia’s ear, attempting to put her hand on Nadia’s face (her face it was still hers, goddammit). “Let me out of the fucking circle, and you might live. Right? You might live. We’ll both live! We’ll-- I’ll leave you alone, just let me out!” The last word was a shriek, causing the power to go out in the apartment complex. All this stupid girl had to do was let her out.

“No.” Nadia wasn’t a fool. Not anymore. She wasn’t letting this woman, this bitch that had tormented her for years out just so that she could go after someone else. Nadia Diaz was going to be Cordelia Gregory’s last victim, for better or for worse. Cordelia’s rage, something that she was intimately familiar with, was incredible to see as the face in front of her contorted with it. Nadia grinned back at the poltergeist, a savage sort that wasn’t an expression she normally made but, fuck, it felt good. For just a second, she allowed herself to hate Cordelia, to be glad that she was taking her down. This had been years in the making. She watched Cordelia reach down and grab Nadia’s hands, and she felt herself drag the knife up and out, her hands throwing the knife out of the circle. Nadia couldn’t help the sound that came out of her mouth. Fuck. That-- That wasn’t supposed to happen, right? Things weren’t supposed to be removed like that. Nadia fell to her knees, her hands moving to try and replace the knife with pressure. “Hurr--” She swallowed the word. Hurry. They needed to hurry.

Regan knew enough medical terminology and jargon to immediately recognize the Latin chanting. The book she had borrowed from Blanche mentioned this would likely happen -- apparently, situations like this called for Latin or other ancient languages, though she didn’t completely understand what the purpose of it was. It didn’t matter at this point. Dissecting everything that happened and was happening and would happen wasn’t going to do Nadia any favors, and this was about Nadia, not her own need for logic and sense. She pulled away as Blanche inched in closer to her, not willing to stand within whispering distance. “Yes?” She said impatiently, not taking her eyes off of Nadia, “Good. He had better know what he’s doing. Kaden said he found the best. Failure is not an option.” If Blanche was trying to communicate something else to her, she wasn’t receptive to hearing it.

Regan pushed herself closer to the central circle as Nadia’s trembling grew more fierce, worse than the most frightened patients she had ever encountered in the ER. But it wasn’t just fear. Something was happening to her. Inside of her. Pinpricks of sweat glistened on her skin and the sputtering of nerves shook her body even harder like she was being wrenched in half. Nadia’s face twisted and tore in several directions, her hand slowly drifting behind her, and-- a scream. Nadia’s. The lights flickered, off more than on, but Regan kept her eyes pinned to her friend. Was there a way to help? Any way? She knew she was instructed to just wait, to be there as moral support and in the event of an emergency, but how was she supposed to know the point of intervention? The blood drained from Nadia’s face, her lips skinned back in pain, and as the lights flicked on once more, she caught the glint of a knife near Nadia’s throat.

“Stop!” Regan screamed back, barreling toward the circle, stopping short just at its precipice. The lights shattered, flickering no more. She knew Blanche was probably behind her, trying to stop her, but her singular focus was on Nadia and getting that knife out of her hands. “Put it down! Now! You’re going to--” But it was too late. Nadia’s hand moved in one fluid motion, knife traveling from her neck, into her gut. Her eyes took in every movement of the knife, the way it sliced and the twist of Nadia’s wrist, how deep it went, the way the hilt pressed right up against her shirt. Everything was blurred and chaotic, moving simultaneously too fast and too slow. For a second, life stilled as Regan’s insides crushed with grief that she couldn’t reach Nadia in time. Her friend looked up to her, no longer shaking, an eerie calmness on her face, her eyes swollen and sad. Blood soaked into her shirt, spreading through fabric like a drop of ink in water, more pulsing out with each beat of her heart. Regan could see Nadia’s breathing, slow and harsh, growing weaker by the second. Too slow. Too harsh. Too weak.

And next to Nadia was the redhead. The same one Regan had met in this very apartment months ago, and the same one that had treated Nadia’s body like some horrible puppet and plaything ever since. This was the person who nearly murdered Kaden and herself, and who had committed countless crimes to countless others. And now, she wanted to murder Nadia. There was so much Regan wanted to say to Cordelia and say to Nadia right now, but she could only move and act. Regan bolted to break the circle, not wasting a second as Nadia collapsed. There was no time to talk. She was a doctor. That was part of why she was here. It was time to be a doctor. Her lungs tightened, something dark lurking inside of them -- a scream for Nadia that she was on the very edge of sounding. She needed to help her, to staunch the blood before all of it spilled across the floor, her life with it.

Blanche wished she hadn’t spoken at all. She realized the error she had made instantly. Cordelia wasn’t above taking Nadia down with her. If she couldn’t have her body, no one could. Blanche’s gaze was glued to the knife as she watched it plunge into Nadia’s gut. Her own stomach seized, remembering the long knife that had gone into her own skin. Instinctively, she took a step forward, as if to go help, when she remembered one of the most important things she read about exorcisms. The circle can’t be broken. Blanche froze on the spot, her eyes snapping to Regan. “Regan, don’t!” Blanche cried. Cordelia would be free to leave and free to torment Nadia or some other unsuspecting victim another day. She acted quickly. With a fluid motion she dropped the shotgun and was stepping forward. A familiar pain seared across Blanche’s forehead, her mind protesting the use of her power. She didn’t care, though. Her energy reached Regan, ranking her back harshly away from the exorcism. Blanche backed up, looking over her shoulder towards the door.

“K-Kaden!” Blanche screamed, “We need you!! Now! Please!” Her voice cracked slightly with the panic, her head splitting from the sudden force of energy and from Regan’s screeching. No sooner did the hunter appear in the doorway, did Blanche throw Regan at him. She tried to be lighter this time, but she didn’t think she did a very good job - it was powered with adrenaline and she had never had to throw a friend on purpose before. She could apologize later, though. “Keep her there so she doesn’t break the circle!” Blanche ordered shakily. She rushed forward to the edge of the circle now, on the other side of Mav, her gaze trained on Cordelia. “I’m sure this doesn’t need to be said,” Blanche said to Connor, though her eyes never left Cordelia’s form. A seething hatred erupted in her, and wasn’t able to bury it away this time. Thoughts of empathy were replaced with raw fury, and in this moment, Blanche was going to enjoy her existence being eradicated. Later, maybe not. But now? She was pissed. “We need to get a move on before Nadia bleeds out. Let’s go.”

Waiting outside the door was awful. Kaden tried to play out what he thought was happening behind him as he waited. It would be fine. Mav knew what he was doing. Nadia would be fine. Then there was screeching and the sound of glass shattering. Banshee screeches, no mistaking them. It was probably just Regan seeing something supernatural. It would be fine. This was going to be fine. But it didn’t stop. And he heard Blanche screaming, too; screaming his name. Fuck.

Kaden turned and burst through the door. Before Blanche could explain, he saw exactly what was happening. Regan was heading towards Nadia. She was going to break the circle. No. This wasn’t-- He darted towards her, glass crunching beneath his feet as he rounded the circle. He practically threw himself at Regan, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back. With her held tight, he saw it. He finally saw it. The reason why Regan was willing to risk the entire exorcism. He saw the knife in Nadia’s side. The pool of blood on the floor around her. “No.” This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t what was supposed to-- “No!” he shouted, not sure who it was even directed to anymore. His grip nearly loosened and he considered running towards her himself. “We can’t. We can’t. Regan, we have to wait. She won’t--” She wouldn’t die. She couldn’t. Regan hadn’t screamed. If there was anyone Regan would fucking scream for, it was Nadia.

But it struck him that there was still time, she could still unleash a death scream right here, right now in this room. And even if she knew how to hold it back by now, Kaden was sure she wouldn’t be able to. Not for Nadia. And he would be here with his arms around her while she screamed. Just long enough for his lungs to explode and his heart to burst. Any sane person would let go. He gripped her tighter, kept her away from the circle. Nadia wasn’t dying. Not today. He was sure of it. He had to be sure of it. He had to hold onto that hope, even if it was stupid and foolish. One thing in this fucking town had to go right for once. “Nadia. Hold on. You have to-- Regan, tell her what to do from here.” He didn’t need to tell Mav to hurry it the fuck up. He was sure the exorcist could figure out that this was a dire situation. And the last thing they needed to do was break his concentration.

It wasn't the glass that made Mav flinch, you didn't work as long as he had in the exorcism business without getting used to picking a few stray pieces of broken lightbulbs from your mustache every now and again. No, it was that scream. It was a hell of a sound. He wondered if having this here banshee with them was a good idea. Lucky for them, his removal ritual wasn't necessary no more so the interruption wasn't a complete disaster. Thankfully, he didn't need to tell anyone not to let the banshee cross the circle, the tiny medium made sure of that. He was real glad she was tougher than she looked and more than worth her salt. The last thing they needed was to risk this poltergeist getting out of the dang circle. He was already going to struggle to destroy her spirit for good, they didn’t need any more complications, considering this whole exorcism was going tits up darn fast.

Ms Diaz had returned to her body and he felt the poltergeist leave that very same body before he’d even finished his ritual. Mav reckoned that was on account of the stabbing she did to the body. He figured they didn’t have a whole lot more time to work. He was going to need every last bit of energy he could find to make this go in their favor. As soon as he’d finished his phrase, he shifted as seamlessly as he could manage into the second half of his plan. The chain of energy he was channeling stopped pulling on the spirit and started to wrap around the poltergeist. He was going to use it to constrict her, pull tighter and tighter until there was nothing left, like a lasso tugged too tight or a snake squeezing the life out of its prey. He hoped the young exorcist beside him could keep up, but he seemed like he was quick as a whip and there was no room for doubt. Not when Ms Diaz’s life hung in the balance. He gripped the young man’s shoulder as objects started to fly around the room. This spirit was mad as a mule chewing bumblebees and he was going to need all the help he could muster to pool this energy and rid the world of this poltergeist.

The whole situation was chaos. As soon as Connor managed to react to one thing, the next impending disaster reared its ugly head. He wanted to scream for Nadia, to yell at that horrible fucking poltergeist to get the hell away from her, but it was too late. Knife had ripped flesh, and she was bleeding. He'd seen on TV that stomach wounds were a slow and painful way to die. They had time, but not much of it. He increased his chanting, urgent and desperate. His eyes met Blanche with desperation as she took care of whatever that screaming woman was (definitely not a moose).

Connor saw it all happening, but he couldn't focus on it. He had to drown it all out. The only thing that mattered right now was Nadia, and saving her meant sending this fucking arsehole poltergeist to hell. He squeezed Mav's wrist, letting the energy flow through them more easily, and he looked to Blanche, communicating with her with only his eyes and the extension of his other hand. He couldn't stop the ritual. He couldn't stop chanting, but he needed Blanche to take his arm too. The hunter and the other woman were more difficult, but Connor knew that he and Mav needed all the energy they could get. Cordelia was strong, determined, and a real fucking bitch. Word after word after word, he focused everything he had on her, his focal point beginning to burn hot beneath his fingertips as he used it as a conduit.

She was getting weaker. Connor could feel it. He looked at Mav again, the two of them speaking wordlessly. They were close. But that would only make Cordelia more desperate. He was almost screaming the ritual at her now, every atom in his body telling her to get the fuck out.

“Hey!” Cordelia screamed over the madness, the breaking glass and flying objects, looking straight at the banshee as she was only just being restrained by Kadie. “If you break this circle, you can save her! She might have a chance! But if you let these fuckers do their bullshit, she will go down with me.” She felt her form flickering as the exorcism took hold. This wasn’t like the last time. Hell, it wasn’t even like the first time, when she’d found herself thrown from Nadia’s body for who even knew how long, existing only in the ether as she’d reformed herself to try again. This hurt. This made her put her hands over her ears and scream. She lashed out and sent some little statue that had been on the coffee table flying, shattering it against a wall. “Let me out or I’ll fucking kill her! Let me out or I’ll fucking kill her!” She tried to pull the knife back into the circle but only succeeded in sticking it into a wall. Fuck. Fuck.

Just keep pressure on it. Just keep pressure on it. Nadia kept repeating the words to herself even as the chanting and screaming got louder. She just needed to hold on until Cordelia was dealt with, and then whatever happened would happen. Just keep putting pressure on it. However, Cordelia begging Regan to break the circle forced her to look up, panicked. No. If anyone might break it, it would be Regan. She didn’t understand what was at stake. Regan couldn’t possibly understand that getting rid of Cordelia was the only important thing in this whole situation. And Nadia couldn’t blame her, she’d probably be losing her shit if one of her friends was hurt, but this was bigger than her. She was one person. Cordelia could ruin countless lives; she probably already had. She needed to go. “I’m fine,” she choked out, locking eyes with Kaden over Regan’s shoulder. Don’t let her go. “I’m not going to die, yet.” And she fucking wasn’t. Not until this bitch was dealt with.

Regan wasn’t sure what happened -- it was all a confusing blur. She had surged toward Nadia, scream rattling in her chest, but in only a split second, she was yanked in the other direction, air forced from her lungs in a loud screech. Blanche was shouting something; she heard Kaden’s name, but her thoughts were only on Nadia as she watched her friend’s blood continue to pool as she grew paler and trembled and struggled to keep herself upright. The door was thrown open and she felt something wrap tightly around her, pulling her like gravity just as the invisible vice around her dissipated. Another scream jumped out of her, but as she realized it was arms encircling her, she choked everything back. Who-- Kaden. It was Kaden. The noise thundered like a storm in her chest, but she kept it locked in, holding it inside of her lungs like the casket’s dark water, even as it demanded to be emptied. Even so, some of it managed to escape in desperation as she yelled, “Kaden. Let me go. Kaden let me go. Nadia is dying. Nadia is dying, she stabbed herself, you need to let me go right now. Nadia is going to die. She’ll die if she doesn’t stop the bleeding.” Regan’s tongue felt weak and out of place as she spoke those words. Nadia dying had been a possibility, but not one that she wanted to actually, truly allow herself to believe. And while she could feel Kaden’s arms loosen for just a moment, they latched back around her. Her lungs fought against his grip for a second, but they quickly deflated.  

Cordelia drifted toward the edge of the circle as everything shook and shattered around them, her sharp eyes meeting Regan’s as they darkened again. At this point, she wasn’t sure whether or not she was hallucinating the way Cordelia seemed to be there one moment and gone the next as the chanting crested. But Cordelia was right, in her sick, twisted way. Regan’s top priority was saving Nadia’s life, and whatever agenda Cordelia had -- escaping? -- didn’t matter at this moment. They could worry about that later, when Nadia was alive and healthy. As Kaden’s grip only tightened, she understood that no one else seemed to share that goal, and she was struck with far more frustration and fear than she was allowed. “Don’t touch her! Stay away from her, don’t touch her! I’m not going to let you hurt her!” Regan screamed, barely holding back. Kaden. She couldn’t do that again. Not with Kaden right there. She dug her nails into her palm, feeling the blood pool through bandages. You cannot afford yourself emotion. For every bit of feeling you react to, you surrender yourself to the mercy of your screams. Deirdre would have been appalled by all of this. False calmness swam over her, but her heart couldn’t lie -- it still beat twice as quickly as it usually did.

Tell her what to do. “Nadia,” Regan said, her voice trembling. She wasn’t sure if the remaining glass shattering was because of her, or Cordelia. The marmot statue, too. It was unacceptable. Dangerous. Not doing Nadia or Kaden or anyone any good. When Regan spoke again, the quiver vanished. “You’ve already pulled the knife out. That’s-- that isn’t good. Someone needs to grab a towel from the kitchen or remove their shirt and pass it to Nadia. Shirt is faster. Nadia, lie flat on the ground and press the shirt to the wound. Do everything that you possibly can to maintain consciousness. Listen to someone’s voice and use it as an anchor. Keep talking. Talk to me.” Her voice flattened with despair despite her best attempts to snuff it out, “Kaden, please let me go. Please. Whatever they’re doing, I don’t think it’s going to be fast enough.”

“If I let you go she’ll die! We can’t!” Kaden kept his arms wrapped tight around Regan, despite her protests. If she screamed now, he’d have no idea if it was for Nadia or for himself. And he wasn’t sure it would fucking matter one way or another. He shut his eyes and held fast. It was all he could do. Brace them both against whatever was happening in that circle in front of them. He couldn’t see much even with his eyes open. As a scream tore through her, he winced and gripped her tighter. Tears pricked at his eyes and his own scream ripped through his throat that he couldn’t hear as the sound resonated through him. This was it. This was how he’d die. Not hunting. Not in the woods. In his friend’s apartment holding back a banshee. Hold on. He just had to hold on. Relief didn’t come when the sound stopped. The ringing didn’t stop either. He wanted to check to see if his ears were bleeding, he was pretty sure he felt the familiar dripping down his earlobe, but he didn’t let go of her; he wouldn’t. Muffled sounds came from in front of him that sounded like her voice, but he couldn’t make out a single word she was saying. Not yet. He didn’t dare let up on her. “Hold on, Nadia,” he said, locking eyes with her. He didn’t know what was happening, but he knew it wasn’t over yet. He turned to face the exorcists, watching closely for any sign for when this would end. “Blanche!” he called out to her, though he couldn’t regulate his own volume. He hoped she could hear him. “Tell me when. The second it’s done. Somehow.” He hoped she could. But he wouldn’t let go of Regan until he knew for sure that the exorcism was over, when he knew Cordelia was banished forever.

It was hard not to get distracted by the sound of Regan screaming, especially how the loud scream rattled around in Blanche’s head. She was glad she wasn't the one chanting, even as she forced herself to stay rooted to the spot as she saw all the blood pour out of Nadia’s wound. A wave of nausea overtook her just as she met Connor’s gaze, and even as her skin tinged green, she was able to force the horrible feeling back as she gripped Connor’s hand tightly. It was hard to explain, but the second she did, she felt the power leeching from her, pouring into the exorcism. She heard Kaden yell to her, and could only raise her free hand to show she heard him, closing her eyes tightly as she willed every ounce of energy and power she had to Connor and Mav. She didn't know how this worked, but her seance sessions with Jasmine and whatever witchy-things she had done with Nell told her intention mattered. Even as the image of Nadia’s blood staining the floor hung in the back of her mind, she threw herself into the focus of energy that would ultimately - hopefully - be Cordelia’s undoing.

This here little lady was a tough spirit to banish. She was stubborner than a mule and he got the feeling she had a burr in her saddle. Mav could feel the young exorcist’s energy flowing through him and he felt the burning iron in his hand. He held tight to the chain of the pocket watch, used his words to pull the rope of energy wrapped around the spirit tighter and tighter. They were damn close to sending this spirit back to the hell she crawled out of, he could feel it in his bones. He ducked as a statue went flying towards him. That was a nice try, little lady, but Mav didn’t lose a single syllable of the ritual. He figured this might be about the time in the exorcism where things went all catawampus and objects started flying about. No matter he could handle that. He knew how to dodge a book or two and keep his chin waggling. And he was right. Any loose items on the sides of the room started to go flying every which way and he gave Connor a quick squeeze to let him know to hold fast and carry on with what they were doing. They couldn’t lose sight of the  Just when he thought he was tapped, he felt an extra boost of energy. The mini medium was standing nearby and Connor had grabbed hold of her. All they had to do was pool their energy all together and he could pull this spirit right off the face of the earth.

Connor would have failed at this a thousand times over if not for Mav. It had been foolish to think he could have done this alone. He'd barely been performing exorcisms for a year. How was he supposed to deal with something like this? Cordelia wasn’t living up to her name, because she wasn’t very fucking cordial at all. She was even more evil than he’d originally given her credit for, and he loathed his underestimation of her strength. Maybe if he’d taken her more seriously, they wouldn’t have got to this point, but it was too late now. He needed to focus on the task at hand, not the ones he’d already failed. Cordelia clung on, a parasite desperately trying to cling to the world, and only so she could use it for violence.

As much as Connor tried to drown out what was happening with Kaden and the wailing banshee, he couldn’t block out the screams, couldn’t block out the blood, the desperate instructions that would save Nadia’s life. Or so he hoped. He mentally cursed; at himself, at Cordelia, at this whole mess of a situation. Connor had barely even taken Blanche’s hand, but the surge of energy that flowed through him into Mav was enough for the moment. It had to be.

Connor didn’t stop changing, but he let go of Blanche’s hand to pull one sleeve of his shirt off, slipping the unfastened plaid down over his arm, then he replaced one hand on Mav’s arm with another so he didn’t have to break contact, slipping the rest of it off and leaving him in just the plain white t-shirt underneath. He had to be careful not to move the salt when he placed it into the circle, putting it within Nadia’s reach and silently praying that it would work. They just needed to slow the bleeding. They were almost there. He took Blanche’s hand again and looked up at Mav, who was massively taller than Connor’s slight frame. His eyes practically begged him for this to be over soon.

This was it, Cordelia realized with an unnerving amount of certainty as the words echoed through her core, through her entire being, rattling her from within. She looked down at herself, watching as she faded in and out of existence. Existence. This was it. She was going to just… stop existing. Like she’d never been here at all. She screamed out again, against the pain of it. She’d never felt anything like this when she’d been alive, not in Nadia’s body, and not in her own. Death had hurt less. She dropped to her knees, sinking a bit into the floorboards, in front of Nadia Diaz. Cordelia put her hands on the girl’s face, her neck, trying to absorb herself back into Nadia’s skin, even as the exorcists’ words sent another tremor through her, causing her to flicker like bad tv reception. “Please,” she said, eyes wild with fear. “Please. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die again.” She didn’t want to stop existing. She didn’t want to disappear into nothingness. This wasn’t how her story was supposed to end.

Jerking away from the spectre in front of her, Nadia reached out with blood soaked fingers for the shirt Connor had passed into the circle. She pressed it hard to the wound in her stomach, trying to use the feeling to ground her. “I’m fine,” she managed to say to Regan, though she didn’t think she could keep up a steady stream of monologue. This is me pressing down on the wound. This is me trying not to stare at the ghost in front of me. She’s gotten really easy to see, now, actually. Is that normal? Should I be worried? It’s probably fine. Talking was too hard, at the moment. She’d try again, later, after all of this was over and she could sleep. Fuck, Nadia was tired. She was so tired. But she couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t even lay down like Regan instructed because she knew she’d lose consciousness. She wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long. The fight seemed to be leaving Cordelia, the ghost all frantic screams and icy cold touches against Nadia’s skin, but Nadia felt like she was fading just as quickly. Eyes open, Diaz, she told herself. She pressed harder, the shirt staining in blood as she curled forward, still resting on her knees. She’d have to buy Connor a new shirt.

When Nadia didn’t react to her, Cordelia seethed, jerking at the girl’s arms and pushing her in an attempt to get a reaction. “Don’t ignore me! I know you see me!” she howled, a last ditch effort for attention. Nothing was working, not her hands frantically trying to pull Nadia’s away from the wound, not her abilities to throw objects against walls and people. She was drained, spent, unravelling. Not that there was much left of her to unravel. She was the last bit of string on an empty spool. “You’ll die, too, you stupid, stupid bitch,” she snarled, getting in Nadia’s face one last time. “They won’t finish in time to save you. You’re going to be right back where you started. They can’t save you. You can’t even save yourself.” Cordelia managed to grip Nadia’s arm, her fingers only slightly sinking into soft skin. She looked into Nadia’s face, practically bloodless, and she felt a brief sense of satisfaction amidst all the panic and fear and blinding anger, knowing that she’d be the end of Nadia Diaz’s life, even if it meant the end of her own.

“Vete pa la puñeta,” Nadia said quietly to the poltergeist in front of her, looking Cordelia in her pale, flickering eyes. Go to hell. Though, Cordelia wasn’t going anywhere. There’d be nowhere for her to go. She’d be gone, nothing more than a lot of bad, bad memories and scars on the people that she’d hurt. She’d be nothing more than the cause of blood on Nadia’s hands. Cordelia was barely even there anymore, her form appearing and disappearing as she barely clung to Nadia, to life. But she didn’t seem like she could hold on anymore.

With a final scream, Cordelia felt herself slipping away despite the way she tried to wrap her fingers around Nadia’s heart, her soul. She looked at herself as she disappeared. It didn’t feel like dying. It wasn’t even painful, anymore. It felt like absolutely nothing at all, and, after clinging to life far after her expiration date, nothing at all is what Cordelia Gregory became.

Eyes shut tightly, Nadia sagged forward, unable to hold herself up properly as Cordelia vanished. For good. She was gone for good, and Nadia was still there, still in her body, though she felt herself fading fast. Far too fast. Still, she felt… relief. Cordelia was gone. She’d never hurt anyone ever again. Nadia would be her last victim, and that made her feel warm, even though her body was freezing. She heard noises, people moving around her, but she couldn’t bring herself to raise her head. Too much effort. “I’m fine,” she muttered because, really, she couldn’t feel much pain, not anymore. She was fine, even though there was a lot of blood. She needed-- jerking her head up, she looked at Regan, her eyes panicked and her vision fuzzy around the edges. “No hospitals,” she said, her voice sounding distorted in her ears. That was all she could manage to say, then she fell forward again, and Nadia Diaz knew nothing more.

“We have to! She’ll die! She’ll die!” Regan shouted, trying her best not to let an outburst become a scream. She couldn’t tell how successful she was, but Kaden was still clinging onto her, nearly choking her, and as she turned and saw blood dripping down from her boyfriend’s ears, her heart choked, too. She knew she couldn’t risk saying anything more; she needed to think only of the numb nothingness of the clearing, the improbable calmness she now held as she forced herself into the water. But Nadia. Nadia was-- Regan tried desperately to pry Kaden’s hands away from her, barely noticing as Connor supplied his shirt and Cordelia’s howls grew more and more frantic. Something was happening. She didn’t understand it, and right now, didn’t concern herself with wanting to. The only thing that mattered was that it could result in her being able to get to Nadia. She didn’t ease up, though -- she kept trying to slip out and fight her way toward the circle, her eyes never leaving the growing pool of blood underneath her friend. Nadia claimed to be fine even as there was no more white on the shirt and even as her face blanched more with each passing second.

The room stormed around them. Cupboards slammed open, furniture dragged itself across the floor, and as the chanting grew louder, Cordelia’s desperation and cries surged like lightning. Cordelia had pounced for Nadia’s neck like a viper, and Regan -- trapped in Kaden’s arms as she struggled, unable to even scream a warning -- had never felt more useless. This wasn’t what she thought would happen. They were here to save Nadia, right? Shouldn’t that have been the priority? Why was this in question? Why-- but in the blink of an eye, Cordelia was no more, dissipating like insubstantial mist. The room changed, the drop in pressure palpable as everything seemed to still. And Nadia, Regan realized as terror engulfed her, stilled, too.

Kaden’s arms grew slack. Regan didn’t think. She tore out of them and sprinted toward the inner circle, where Nadia lay unconscious on the ground, blood still rushing from the wound in her abdomen. No hospitals? Fuck that. She wouldn’t-- Nadia-- she wouldn’t let her die. That wasn’t a wish that she would respect if her life was on the line. The bleeding was catastrophic, and unless they stopped it soon, Nadia would not make it out of here alive.

Regan scrambled for the bloodied shirt and pressed it tight against the wound, Nadia’s blood soaking through to her fingers, burning her skin to blisters. It hurt, but Deirdre had prepared her well, and she would stay there like this for hours if necessary. Anything. “I need help. Someone needs to roll her onto her back while I apply pressure. The stab wound runs all the way through her.” Regan didn’t dare ease off the wound, but she checked Nadia’s pulse -- rapid -- and her skin -- cold, clammy -- and knew controlling the bleeding was only the beginning. “She’s in shock. She may be unresponsive; I need to do a sternal rub to check. Kaden, grab me the hemostatic dressing from the kit. Once you bring them, I need you to place your hands where mine are and do not ease up. Blanche, get a blanket and towels. Connor, get my phone from the kitchen and call--” she hesitated, “Call Dr. Lin-King. Tell her I’ll explain later.”

In the end, Cordelia begged for her life, unhinged and desperate with fear. It was hard for Blanche not to see the parallels with Constance Cunningham, the other red haired poltergeist that had yet to vacate her mind since her undoing the previous week. Resentment and self-hatred rose in her, stifling everything but the surge of power in her fingertips. She gripped Connor’s hand tighter, as if to anchor herself down to this spot. It was heartbreaking to see how the outcome of Constance and Cordelia’s situations didn’t change anything, even when she changed her actions. A soul was destroyed, eradicated from existence forever. Maybe Cordelia deserved it -- maybe there was some part of her that knew Constance did too, though she would sooner willingly light herself on fire than admit that -- but Blanche couldn’t help but circle back to the disappointment and anger she felt in herself and at the world as she saw the pieces of Cordelia’s soul fade away with her final screams, her furious fear clinging to the air, rattling around loosely in Blanche’s mind. Soon Blanche wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the screams that haunted her - rage and resentment would echo and she would wonder whose it was. Constance Cunningham? Coredelia Gregory? Maybe even a glimpse of Lauren Langley?

How many memories of destroyed spirits would be left behind in her mind before Blanche went insane? It was a cold thought, and it was that thought, not Regan barking orders at her, that snapped her back to reality. Realizing she was still clutching Connor’s hand in a death grip, she let it go and went to go search for what Regan asked her for. Admittedly, she hadn’t been listening, but she could guess what she needed. Towels. Something to cover Nadia, who was bleeding out on the floor. Nadia, whose life was in danger again because of a ghost who was too afraid to just die.

Blanche realized then what she wanted to say to Cordelia, though it was more than too late. A reminder that dying was probably the easiest thing any of them would ever do, masked by the fear of the unknown deluding them all into thinking it was the hardest thing of all. Living was harder, but as Blanche finally found suitable towels bringing them back to Regan, she knew that simply existing was the hardest thing in the world.

[inspirationdivine]

End of the Line || Kaden, Agatha, Ariana, Chloe, Kelly, Todd

Timing: Current Parties: @chasseurdeloup, @letsbenditlikebennett @detective-keen @itsyaboytodd Summary: Pain.  Warnings: Significant discussion of domestic abuse, emotional abuse, drug manipulation (leanan-sidhe kiss), vomit

There was no waiting anymore. No avoiding the inevitable. When Kaden mentioned that Lydia should be leaving town, Ariana knew this was the only chance they had to get the humans she’d taken hostage out of there. How many humans Lydia currently had living in her basement was unknown, but they needed to be out. They needed to get their life back. She hadn’t been able to do it for Ace, but she could help these people. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had the worry she felt for Athena shoved away. She was capable and she had people on her side helping her against Lydia. She would be okay. She had to keep telling herself as much. Being on separate sides of this mission did little to squash her worries, but this was bigger than that. These people needed them, so she’d step up and went over everything Athena told her about fae promises in her head over and over. She’d only seen Agatha once before, so she turned to Kaden and asked, “You’re sure she’ll be out?” 

 Kaden had been grazed with a fucking bullet earlier tonight. He shouldn’t even be out here but he couldn’t sit back and let this lie. Not when he had a shot at actually making this right. For once. “Positive,” he told her. What he failed to mention was why he knew that. What he’d failed to do. What it might have cost. This was his mistake. He should have waited for the fucking plan. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, readied himself to push past the pain. It wasn’t like it was anything new. “Keen was a last ditch effort. She’s banking on her promises,” he assured them. Not to mention the ones he bound her to himself. Part of him hoped she’d be there waiting and she’d see him again and feel a fraction of the pain she caused others over the years, selfish as that hope was. Reality set in. This wasn’t about him. Or even Lydia. This was about protecting humanity, always came down to that. He peaked around at the entrance to the house in question. The garden was trashed, glass everywhere, the windows were either gone or covered with tarp. Regan’s work if he ever saw it. “It looks like security’s gone. Maybe.” He shut his eyes a moment, tried to listen harder, make sure. “I can’t tell one way or another. We should be careful,” he said, looking back at both Ari and Keen before reaching down to unholster his gun. Better safe than sorry. 

 Agatha stood beside the pair. Staring into the void, she recalled what had happened over at Kaden’s flat. She still couldn’t make any sense of what had happened to her, but if what she had understood was real, as nonsensical as it seemed, then there were people being kept inside Lydia’s house, against their will, just like she had shot Kaden against her own. The mention of her name managed to draw her out of this day dreaming. She gave her co-worker a glance, worried, and feeling as if she would never forgive herself for what she’d done. She had shot an innocent, and it felt like the right thing to do. How. How. All she wanted now was to get in there, and make sure that Lydia would not harm anyone ever again. But first, they had to get her captives out. Kaden seemed sure of himself when he claimed that she was not here, and wouldn’t be here in a while, still Agatha worried of what would happen if the woman came home early. She had put on her bullet vest, and prepared herself for what she understood would not be a piece of cake. Following after Kaden, she glanced at the kid with a frown of disapproval. Perhaps Ariana was capable, but what was she doing here? This was going to be intense, dangerous perhaps, and she did not want to babysit while she was working.  

 Somehow even though Lydia wasn’t home, the house seemed daunting. Ariana wasn’t sure she was ready to see the conditions Sammy lived in. Where he had spent his final days before Lydia had done the unspeakable. She bit back the wave of emotion that threatened to spill over. She could be sad later. Right now, the other people in Lydia’s home still needed their help. There was only one way to go from here. She closed her eyes momentarily and concentrated on what she could hear and smell in the home. There were only a few people in there, tops, and they smelled vaguely familiar. Outside the door, it was still too difficult to tell. “I don’t think security is here. There are a few people from what I can smell.” She had no idea what Agatha knew about all of this, but it was too serious a situation for her to mince her words and not communicate clearly with Kaden. Let the detective think she was weird for all she cared. She turned to Kaden and asked, “You up for breaking down the door with me?” She waited a moment for confirmation before charging the door. A few sturdy slams and it busted open revealing the lavish mansion that Lydia called home. Something about it sent a chill through her. It was nicely decorated and there was art there, but knowing where the art likely came from only served to make her stomach turn. She took a few sniffs and pointed, “We should start upstairs, I think.” 

 Couldn’t smell them? Kaden’s face scrunched a moment, trying to push away any discomfort trying to burrow its way inside him. He wasn’t exactly used to working with a werewolf. Funny enough. Still, he trusted Ariana. He had to remember that. Still, he paused and shut his eyes a second, listening for any heart beats. He heard his, Agatha’s was pounding, and so was Ariana’s. He didn’t hear anyone immediately nearby. Didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone inside; even combined their senses were only so good. “Breaking down the door?” He didn’t see any reason why not to. It’s not like the house was in good condition right now. Maybe they’d get lucky and the previous banshee destruction would work in their favor. With a quick nod, he turned and threw himself into the door right alongside her. Putain. He forgot how much he still hurt, how recent his fight was. His face contorted and he took a deep inhale before slamming into the door with her a second time. Shit. He was going to regret that. Hell, he already regretted that, cradling his arm in his hand a moment as he winced. At least the door broke down relatively easily. No doubt Lydia wasn’t here considering how simple that was. That and the fact that there were no security guards waiting for them on the other side. The house was strangely normal. He wasn’t sure what he expected, honestly. Something darker, maybe? Danker. More like the prison and torture chamber that it was. He waited and listened some more. There were traces of something, but it was hard to pinpoint. “Sure, might as well.” It was a big place, it would take a while to comb through. His hand still gripped his knife as they climbed the stairs, shoes occasionally crunching on shards of glass. There were plenty of doors. Even with the destruction, the house was bright, clean and almost inviting. It sent a chill down his spine, knowing what he did. “Should we split up? Or stick together? This place is big.” 

 The ache of Lydia’s absence was beginning to sting in Chloe’s chest. She worked quietly, occasionally tapping a rhythm against the table to test how the words of her lyrics would flow. Todd and Kelly had calmed down enough, although she couldn’t help but occasionally glance over at them whenever they were in the same room. Lydia had left them with lots of carefully prepared meals in the kitchen, as she always did when she planned to spend some time in fairy rings. It was better when she didn’t come back for a few days, even when it hurt. Chloe was jarred out of her reverie when the door downstairs banged and clattered. She glanced at Todd, in the music room with her, but Kelly was elsewhere. Swallowing, she gestured for him to hide, walking silently over to the door of their room and turning the lock. You won’t ever let any guest of mine know you’re here. She retreated a little further back, remembering the red eyes of the last man who had broken into this hellscape sanctuary. She looked around cautiously, but Lydia’s upstairs office was the only place she could creep to with another lock on it, so she backed into it, locked that door too, and sank down against the wall, cradling her knees against her chest as the promise gnawed at her skin. 

 Kelly panicked, the moment she heard people smashing through the door. She looked around wildly, before scuttling into the one place Lydia didn’t take most of her guests - her bedroom. It was only once she was in there that Kelly realised that Lydia had several guests she did bring in here. Oh god, could she maybe hide in the bathroom? With a squeak, Kelly locked herself in Lydia’s bathroom, and clambered into the warm towel cabinet, pulling it closed behind her. 

 The days that had turned into weeks since Todd first found himself trapped in Lydia’s home, they’d passed by in a daze of confusion, longing, and pain. Pain, because he didn’t understand what Chloe and Kelly tried to tell him. He couldn’t make sense of the words that bound him to this place, didn’t understand any of it. Magic? It was magic? But, magic wasn’t supposed to do things like this, right? He had been in the sound studio when he’d first heard the door being knocked down, the impact shaking the otherwise still house. And, for an instant, he’d wanted to scream. But, the sound died in his throat, the promise that bound him to Lydia searing his vocal cords shut with a sharp lance of pain. Clutching his throat, Todd felt his body move, seemingly on its own, looking for a place to hide. Because that was one of the many promises he’d made-- he would hide, he would stay out of sight, and he would remain quiet. Rising from his chair, Todd locked the door of the room, the pain easing slightly as he did so. He tip-toed across the floor before squeezing himself in the gap between the wall and the desk. His hands pressed against his face, teeth biting into his fingers to keep from shouting. He had to keep quiet. He had to obey.

 There was something eerie about Lydia’s home even though she knew the woman wasn’t home. Maybe it was because she knew all too well what happened here, but on the surface, it looked like just an ordinary home. Like Lydia was just an ordinary albeit wealthy person. The art that hung on the walls was a bit pretentious, but homey in its own way. How someplace could look so welcoming and yet be so dark was a lot to digest. Ariana knew better than to get too caught up in any of the small things lying around. Getting these people out alive was their priority here today. She closed her eyes and focused on the smells around her. There were two that smelled familiar, but one pulled at the heels of her feet. “Wait,” she said as she reoriented herself to follow what she was smelling when realization hit, “That bitch.” There was venom in her voice as she could smell Todd. That was why he had been taking time to work on projects and not perform. She felt her fists ball up at her side as she stomped forward toward an office. “Someone’s this way. I-- Kaden, I know who it is.” It only pushed her forward further only to push right into a locked door. “Fuck,” she grumbled as she grabbed a bobby pin out of her hair. “Don’t worry, I got this one,” she told Kaden and Agatha. She pressed her ear against the door and fiddled with the pin until she heard the click of a lock. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and softly said, “Todd? I know you’re in here, it’s okay, we’re not guests.” She hoped that statement somewhat helped work around Lydia’s promises. 

 Please just go away, please just go away, Todd thought to himself as his body continued to contort in pain, filling his bones. What had he done wrong? He was hiding, he was doing what he should, he was doing what Lydia wanted-- as he tried to figure it out, the doorknob rattled and he heard a voice. A… familiar voice. Megan? No, her name was Ariana, wasn’t it? No, no, no, no, no, please, he wanted to say. But, he still had his hand pressed firmly against his mouth, trying not to make a sound. If he kept quiet, if he kept quiet, the pain would stop, wouldn’t it? When she said his name, when she specified they weren’t guests, the awful feeling lessened and he let out a breath. “Y-you can’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. Sh--” His throat closed as he tried to say Lydia’s name, the promise that had originally gotten him into this mess reminding him of its presence. Gasping, he shook his head. “No, no, no, no.”

 Kaden’s mouth pulled into a thin line as Ari went off by herself. Something about this house, he didn’t like the idea of leaving her behind. What if Lydia had added layers of words binding the humans since Sammy was killed? What if there was something horrible waiting for them in each of these rooms? No, there wasn’t time for that. He didn’t think. And either way, he had to trust Ariana could handle herself. She’d proven that much. “Okay. I, uh… Left it is,” he said with a shrug and went towards the door across the way. He tried the knob and it opened easily enough. It almost unsettled him more to know he was entering somewhere that wasn’t off limits. He gulped back the uneasiness that had settled in since stepping through the threshold of this place and walked into the room. “Woah.” The words left his lips without a second thought. The room was huge. Possibly bigger than his apartment. And this was just the master bedroom? 

 Kaden shook off the awe. This was nothing to be jealous of. And it wasn’t why they were here. He wandered in, quietly and carefully. There weren’t any signs of movement, not yet. He couldn’t hear any new heartbeats just yet but he kept moving through the room. It felt like a home. Normal, almost. Queasiness dropped into his stomach. Still, he found his feet moving towards the dresser in the corner, practically drawn there by something, like there was a string pulling him along. There were pictures of smiling faces, Lydia with what had to be friends and family. She looked so normal, so much like any other human. His eyes drifted down to the bones sitting on the dresser, arranged lovingly even if in the corner. His fingers ran over them, feeling the smooth, cold surface. Banshee gifts if he ever saw them. Were they from Deirdre? Regan? Maybe both. He clenched his jaw against the tears pricking at his eyes. This was too complicated. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be about Regan or even Lydia. He shut his eyes and concentrated, pushed past the barriers he put up around his senses and listened. A new set of thudding pounded in his ear. He tried to the right, quieter, then the left, louder and louder as he went. “Hello?” he said tepidly, opening his eyes as he walked slowly towards what looked like the bathroom. “I’m not here to hurt you. And I already know you’re here so it’s not breaking any promises to answer.” He didn’t know if that was true, but it didn’t hurt to try. He tried the knob. Locked. “I won’t hurt you. At least-- I’m not a friend of Lydia’s. Please. Let me in.” He tried the handle again. Nothing. He waited for a response, anything. If nothing changed in a few seconds, Kaden had no issues wrenching the handle open himself. 

 Kelly pressed her hand over her mouth, trying to suffocate her whimpers and hummingbird fast breathing. She heard Lydia’s bedroom door open, and imagined some creeping, monstrous shadow of a creature creeping through the room, like the Mindflayer in Stranger Things. Hello, it called, and the image in her head shifted. It was something bipedal, its limbs distorted and a voice like an angel only to disguise a maw full of teeth. Lydia wanted her to stay hidden. She whimpered as the closet door whimpered, the promise burning her lungs. She was going to stay quiet. She would be good. 

 As the two others decided to stick together, Agatha chose to go the other way. Just like them, she climbed up the stairs, but when they turned left, she went to the right. Alone now, she had gotten her weapon out, ready to fight back should she be there, somewhere, waiting to get them one by one. She arrived in one of the most spacious living room she had ever seen. She moved around grazing the walls, checking on every door. Some of them were closed, while others were not. Although, upon inspection, she had found, aside from a large amount of beds in one room, not found anything shocking. She noticed that there was not a single computer in sight, nor was there a phone, or anything that could have facilitated communication with the outside world. Will there was an obvious and expected lack here, there were none as far as the bookshelves were concerned. She couldn’t help but gaze for a short moment at the book spines, wondering what those were about. Her eyes were drawn toward some of the names. “The Eyes to the sky?” Her brows furrowed as she picked up one of the books that bore Lydia’s name. Wait, she was that Lydia Griffin? Under her breath, the detective muttered one particularly surprised what the fuck as a photograph of the woman on the other side confirmed it. “Well now you gotta tell me what face cream you use,” she commented, dropping the book back on its shelf. Now perhaps was a good time to see what all these doors were hiding. One of them was a recording studio, kicking the second door open, she did not expect to get so lucky on her second try. In there, hiding in a corner, there was someone. Remembering what the other two had said, she put her hands up and calmly, she explained: “I’m not a guest, I’m... “ Well the badge certainly helped get her point through. Damn, this room was busy, she thought to herself, for a split second turning her attention toward the rest of the office. “It’s going to be okay, I’m just going to talk with you, alright? As a not guest.” 

 Police officer. Chloe stared at the badge, trembling. Hives were beginning to raise along her skin as the blonde woman stared at her. No one ever came up here, not without Lydia. Remmy hadn’t come in here in the months they’d been here. It was only ever business associates. But she’d heard the wood of the oak door splinter downstairs. The door in front of her had been kicked open. Something had changed. Something was changing. As a not guest. The emphasis was weird, strangely knowing. Chloe felt a horrible ache in her chest. If there were police here, Lydia wouldn’t come back. She’d never knowingly betray herself. Chloe had known for years that Chloe needed Lydia more than Lydia needed Chloe. That was the way her brand of intoxication worked. Fuck. “Why are you here?” She asked hoarsely, pushing herself onto her feet, pressing herself against the back wall as hard as she could. “Who are you?”

 Seeing Todd’s pained expression sent a fresh wave of rage through her body. While it stood she didn’t have it in her to deal the final blow, Ariana could only hope Luce and Athena made it painful for all she’d done to these poor people. Her heart sank realizing she hadn’t even known Todd would be here. She should have been a better friend, reached out and checked in on him more. She’d been so caught up in her own shit, that Lydia managed to get yet another one of her friends. “Hey, shhh,” she assured him as she reached out a hand for him, “It’s going to be okay. I should be here, you’re not doing anything wrong.” It was hard to gauge what his promises were, but he was in pain and she could only hope Lydia would be dead sooner rather than later. “I’m going to make sure you’re safe, I promise.” She looked to him with pleading eyes using a word she had promised herself to never use again, but she planned on delivering. There wasn’t another option. She refused to let Lydia take another friend from her. “Lydia’s not here. I’m not a guest, friend, or company-- Well, I’m your friend but-- Please come out, Todd. The pain should fade soon, but don’t push too hard.” 

 As Ariana came into view, a wave of relief rushed over Todd as he saw a friendly, familiar face. Well, friendly wasn’t quite how he’d describe how she looked at him. Worried, more like. Really, really worried. And, he was too. As she kept talking, he could feel the sharp edges of the promise start to dull, the pain lessening. She wasn’t a guest, she wasn’t a friend of Lydia’s. There was wiggle room with the magic, like the silence between notes of music. And that was what he could use to-- Swallowing, he didn’t dare let himself think about that, knowing full well what the promise would do to him. “How are you here?” He managed to say, his hands shaking with fear and dread as he stared at his friend with wild eyes. “I-- I’m trying. I’m trying.” He repeated as he managed to pull himself from the corner he’d shoved himself into. Ariana wasn’t a friend of Lydia’s, she wasn’t a guest, this wasn’t covered by the promise, which meant it was okay. The mental gymnastics of the magic were hard, but they were all that allowed him to stand upright and take a shaky step forward. “Kelly. And Chloe. They’re here too.”

 Shit. There was no response. Kaden knocked again just to see. Alright, guess there was no other choice. He yanked the door knob and forced it open, breaking the handle and pushed the door open. Shit, the bathroom was huge, too. He peaked around the corner and saw the huge jacuzzi tub and vanity. Right. He approached and… no one there. He looked in the actual bathroom. Nothing there. Not in the shower, either. “I know this is probably terrifying but I’m not going to hurt you. I pr--” Shit. That word. That stupid fucking word. Whoever was here had heard enough of that word. “I know you’re probably bound a million different ways but I’m going to help. I’m… I’m with the WCPD.” Kaden wasn’t sure if that was going to help or make things worse. There was only one place left to look, though. One door. He opened up the door to the linen closet and saw a terrified, shaking girl. Shit. Shit. His heart shattered and he wanted nothing more than to haul her out of there and make a break for it out of this fucking house. Instead, he took a deep breath and held up his hands in surrender. “See, not going to hurt you. Can you speak to me? Are you able?”

 Kelly screamed as light flooded into her cupboard, jerking back so ferociously she banged her head against a warm pipe, and tried to pull a towel over herself to hide. The promise was broken, it was already too late, Every muscle felt like she’d pulled it without warming up, but she still tried to hide. “I don’t know. Please- please go away!” Kelly scrambled forward, reaching for the cupboard door, and tried to pull it shut to hide her back in the dark.

 She had to be careful about what she would tell that woman. Since Agatha did not fully understand the extent of the manipulation, she felt like she was a tightrope walker, 30 feet above the ground. Her hands still up, she lowered them to place the gun back in its holster. At least that woman allowed herself to speak with the detective, she realized, relief making her shoulders loosen down just a little. This was good news, although it did not look like she saw Agatha as her savior, or like she wanted to leave the place. While having never encountered this in the past, it reminded her of those articles she read on Stockholm’s syndrome. All she hoped was that this was not bad to the point of attacking the people who were here to save her. 

She did not move closer to the other woman immediately. That woman was terrified, and nothing good would come from forcing her out of the room. This was Agatha’s ultimate resort, and one she did not intend to use. Lowering her voice, her tone was a bit calmer, soothing like a caress.  “Do you mind if I have a look around?” She asked. An excuse to get closer, as well as an excuse to talk to her. “I’m Agatha, it’s nice meeting you,” she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, doing her best to appear as friendly and welcoming. Slowly, she moved toward the desk. Each and every drawer and cabinet was closed. Great. Her eyebrows raised and she glanced at the woman. “Do you know how I can open it? I really don’t want to damage anything,” everything in here was evidence, and she was sorry in advance for ruining the room for forensics. “Do you think you could help me perhaps?” Agatha had had a promise in her head for just a few hours, and it had been hell, she could not imagine how that woman felt, and she wondered for how long she had been there. 

 “You’ll get us in more trouble,” Chloe replied, still hard against the wall. She didn’t match Agatha’s gentle demeanour, but mouthed the name back at herself. Agatha. Agatha, the cop, rummaging through Lydia’s home. Something prickled in Chloe’s chest. “I don’t think I should help you. She’s coming back. She’ll come back. You can’t- She would want me to stop you.” But Lydia had never said anything about a police officer rummaging through her things. “Under the books. Nineteen forty nine.” There was a keypad. Chloe looked away, her insides churning. Just as quickly, she added, “We chose to be here. We want to be here. She’s going to come back, you know, and that- that’s good.” Two sides, always struggling. Lydia was going to be so upset when she came home to all this damage. The other two didn’t know better yet, but Chloe- Chloe watched Agatha and felt a tiny match in the darkness of her despair. She couldn’t think like that. “It really would be best if you just left, or talked to Lydia when she’s back. It’s not what you think, whatever you think it is.”

 Something akin to relief washed over Ariana as he stepped out from his hiding space. Working within the bounds of everything Lydia made them promise wasn’t easy, but she so desperately wanted to get them out of here alive. It wasn’t a guarantee, but hopefully once Lydia was dead some of these promises would be released. She knew better than to ride on that though. She did her best to hide the nervous energy that was pulsing through her. Unlike her, he didn’t have the advantage of supernatural hearing and probably couldn’t even tell that her heart was practically racing. How she was here was a loaded question and there was hardly enough time to explain. “It’s a long story. Lydia had another one of my friends hostage before, I got help. She won’t be keeping you or anyone else like this anymore.” Her eyes nearly dared to plead with him, but she kept herself confident. Todd needed to believe her. He needed to think he wasn’t breaking any promises to find that small space between them. He needed to believe he could go back to his normal life. The certain brightness and enthusiasm he had possessed before seemed so diminished now and it only served to further her hatred for Lydia. Then he said the name Kelly and she felt herself turn queasy. Not her too. That absolute bitch. “Kelly? Singer who is about my age- she- what?” It had only been a few weeks since she last watched her open mic night. How had she forgotten to check back in? “Okay, okay. I didn’t come here alone. We’ll help Kelly and Chloe, too. We just have to find the others.” 

 He could walk, he could follow her, Todd thought to himself, willing himself to take step after step behind Ariana. It hurt, all of this hurt. It would just be so much easier to stay here. He could hide himself away, tuck himself back in the corner and wait for Lydia to return. It would be better than this pain, wouldn’t it? Swallowing, he stared at Ariana as she talked to him. She knew someone else who’d been here? Someone else who’d been trapped in this house? “I-- Okay. Okay. Chloe, she, she was here with me before, but I don’t know where she went now. Maybe the office? But I want to,” His body contorting in on itself as he let out a wince of pain as he forced himself not to think about leaving, not even dare to hope for it. “I’ll follow you.” He said shakily, the words just enough of a loophole for the magical pain to stop clawing at him. Would this work? Would any of it work? He just wanted to be free.

 Shit. She hit her head and Kaden’s first instinct was to reach out and help her, apply pressure, check the wound. But he had a feeling that would only make this worse, cause more pain than he already was. “Sorry, I’m--” Putain, how could he help? He had to-- “What did you promise? We’ll-- Is it that I can’t see you? I’ll shut my eyes or, or-- If you have to hide, we’ll-- put a towel over you and you’re hidden. Right? I-- Just please. Please, I’m going to help. I just want to get you out of here.” He put his hand out for her to take, wedging himself between her and the door, wishing it was enough. She looked so young and so broken already. And he didn’t know what to do. But he had to try. “I know it hurts. It’ll be over, soon. Please. Let me help.”

 Kelly just shrank even more deeply into herself. “No, no! You’re lying!” Some part of her knew, deep down, that Josh wouldn’t want her to be like this. Her brother would want her to reach out and take his hand. She knew, god, she knew that leaving was the right choice. Everyone had explained so much, but it still didn’t seem real. Was it really wrong to want the stability and warmth that Lydia offered? As long as she did the right thing, it would be okay. It would be awesome, the music she’d already written in the last couple weeks would more than catch the attention of a crowd bigger than the local bar.  But she didn’t know this man, and if she did the wrong thing… well, Chloe’s scars told a story of their own, didn’t they? “I’m being good. Please go away.”

 Agatha, her heart heavy in her chest, looked Chloe in the eyes and with all the assertiveness she could muster, assured her that Lydia was not coming back. Never.  She made sure not to promise anything, but rather spoke just as calmly, explaining everything she was doing as she moved across the office. 1949. Agatha repeated the number in her head and searching through the books, found a concealed safe. The code provided opened it, and within it, Agatha found what she was looking for. “Thank you,” she gave her a warm smile and sat down at the desk, opening the cabinets one by one. “Do you have any free will left?” She glanced up from the drawer she inspected, once again searching for a hint of anything in the other woman’s eyes. “I do not think anything. I find evidence, and then I draw conclusions,” and what she was seeing was not comforting. In a box, within the drawer, she found a stack of identity papers, some expired, some dating back to a few decades ago. All of those belonged to different faces, and Agatha had to take a deep breath to stop her head from spinning. What the fuck had happened here. Who the fuck was Lydia? Well, at least now she knew who the other woman was. “Chloe, you’re Chloe,” she had a small sigh of relief and a sunny smile for her. “It’s good to meet you Chloe.”

 Agatha’s words hit Chloe like a waterfall, crushing her. She didn’t believe it, not at first, but the whiplash sting of Lydia’s biggest rejection hit her right in the chest. She wouldn’t have. She couldn’t have. Chloe hadn’t always behaved, but Lydia wouldn’t lie about going to a fairy ring, would she? Why wouldn’t she- Chloe covered her mouth and stifled an unwelcome sob, determined not to fall apart here, not under the force of toxins she had no control over. That didn’t make it any less real now, her brain could not separate the ache as clearly as it could the intent. “How do you know?” She breathed, scratching at the hives on her neck as Agatha began digging through Lydia’s desk. Finally, she summoned the courage to step away from the wall, staring at the box Agatha pulled out. “That’s a loaded question. I’m still me. It’s- it’s not like I’m just a puppet.” The instinct to protect Lydia even now left an acrid taste in Chloe’s mouth. As Agatha opened the box, her mouth ran dry. Right on the top was Todd’s and Kelly’s drivers licenses, but as Agatha began to sort through, there were more faces than Chloe could begin to recognise. Some, she did. One was a very young Anneliese, who had been taken seven years before her death, barely twenty at the time. Sammy, who looked almost the same, except there was a sparkle in his features in the dull photobooth photograph that she hadn’t seen in his real smile for months. Owen, too, and then there she was. Four years ago. The face there was almost unrecognisable. Agatha smiled warmly, and Chloe could barely force a half smile on her lips. “I guess I’ll find out if it’s good to meet you, Agatha.” There were voices coming from beyond, catching her attention. “Who else is here? More police?”

 The pain so clearly etched on Todd’s face only furthered her desire to see Lydia dead. Well, perhaps not actually see her, but at least know she was stopped. Everything in Ariana wanted to grab him and just run out of here. She couldn’t be that reckless though. A broken promise could do more harm than good and she had to get him out of here. Everything about Todd had always been so genuine and sweet from the moment she’d met him. He was the absolute last person who deserved to be trapped here. She should have noticed something sooner. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and assured, “You don’t have to say anything else. I know it hurts. Kaden and Agatha will find the others.” She couldn’t shake the sick feeling in her stomach as she wondered if Kelly was her Kelly. If her decision to not trade her to Lydia to free Sammy or break her promise had been all for nothing. She put on a brave face anyway. Todd needed to believe in her right now even if she didn’t quite believe in herself. He agreed to follow her so she led him out of the room, not daring to leave his side. 

 Ariana took her time with him and listened for the others until they walked by a room with an open door. Curiosity compelled her to peek inside and she felt her breath hitch in her throat. “I-- we need to go in here first.” The room had a decent stock of pottery along the shelves and she knew they had to be Sammy’s. Her fingers ran along some of the vases as if touching the same clay he once touched would connect her to him again somehow. Her hand stopped on one that had some motifs of the moon decorating it and a sad smile crossed her face. Sammy had to have made it. Without thinking about whether she should, she grabbed it off the shelf and looked back to Todd with strengthened resolve. “Okay, let’s get to the others. Are you-- How are you feeling? We can go slow, just tell me if it hurts too much and we can stop. Figure out a way around it.” 

 Todd trailed behind Ariana in mute silence, because if he did not talk, he couldn’t lie. He just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, keeping pace with the girl. If he didn’t think about what he was doing, he couldn’t break his promise. If he could just keep his mind clear and just let it happen, the nightmare would end, right? He would be free. Shoulders hunched over, he thought about all the things he would do when he got back. He’d call his parents. Call his siblings. Let them know how much he missed them. Tell them he was sorry for not talking to them more, for not listening to them. He’d call Winston and Ricky and tell them that he hadn’t wanted to lose them. He’d tell them that he hadn’t wanted to cut them off. He’d tell them the truth, that magic was real and that he wanted nothing to do with it anymore. He just wanted to be free. When Ariana turned to look at him, he realized she’d asked him something. Rubbing his arms nervously, he nodded, “I’m… It’s okay. It’s okay right now.” He said. It wasn’t true. He’d been thinking of what would come after all this, and with the thinking, the pain had returned. “We should-- do this. It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

 “I’m not. I know it must-- But I’m not lying. Please. Let me help.” Kaden’s hand stayed there, outstretched and untaken. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but he hadn’t prepared for this. Not in the slightest. He was used to dealing with tough scenarios between police and hunting work, sure, but there was a reason he preferred animal control to standard jobs. Dealing with people was hard. Especially when they were going against their best interests so painfully. He knew he must look like a monster, coming in and dragging her out of what was, unfortunately, her home. He couldn’t even imagine how he appeared to her, his face beaten and worn, half of him bandaged and certainly worse for wear. “I’m sorry,” he said before he reached in and pulled her out of the closet, trying to sling her across his back in a fireman's carry. Kaden winced, the pain of everything that came before settling into his bones as he did. It didn’t matter. He pushed it away, he could hurt later. For now, he was sure she was going to resist and fight him tooth and nail. He was going to get her out of here. She could thank him later. “I’m sorry. She’s not coming back. We have to get you out of here.”

 Kelly screamed, her voice hoarse from all the singing she’d already been doing the past few hours. She tried to grab the inside of the cupboard, but no matter how hard she pulled it didn’t even slow him down. Terrified of him and terrified of breaking the promise, she trashed her legs and squirmed, but he wasn’t letting go. “Stop it! Let me GO!” She screamed. “YOU’RE HURTING ME! TODD! CHLOE! HELP!”

 “That’s my job, dear,” she had a hint of confidence in a smile as she glanced at Chloe, one that matched the light in her eyes. Knowing things was something Agatha had always done quite well, and she did not care for those who called her a Know it all. As if it were an insult. Better a know it all, than a know nothing at all, she had always told herself. Still the look on Chloe’s face took its toll on the police woman’s morale, and she approached Chloe carefully, putting her hands on her arms, and looking her in the eyes. Truth was, the detective was not feeling too great herself. She had just shot a coworker, found out that some people could make you do things, put you in some sort of trance, and now, she had to deal with a case that was getting more horrific the more she found out things. And yet, she kept her chin up, no matter how heavy her heart felt in her chest, no matter how much she wanted to cry and scream as she remembered how scared and helpless she had been back at Kaden’s. She kept her chin up, and she looked at Chloe with a look on her face that said everything is going to be okay, you’re under good care. With Chloe by her side, she had looked at the different IDs and would have kept doing so, had it not been for the screaming. “I’m with another police officer, and a …” She frowned. “Someone who’s great at finding missing people,” well that covered it. “Let’s go have a look, alright? Stay behind me,” she closed the drawer, locked it and took the keys with her as she went out of the office.

 “That not an answer,” Chloe replied, squaring her jaw, as if she could make herself immune to Agatha’s gentle demeanor. She didn’t- couldn’t believe it. Lydia had made herself the center of their universes, the sun and stars set at her beck and call. It wasn’t that Chloe missed her, it was that a world without her was impossible to imagine. It was impossible not to want to sob about the pain they’d caused Lydia just by being caught. Chloe was about to ask more about the police officer and the person find her when Kelly began to scream. “Wh-” As soon as they were through the door, when Chloe saw Kelly being hauled around, she didn’t stay behind Agatha at all, running over to Kelly. She almost lost her balance at the last second, staggering slightly as she got close to Todd. It wasn’t a fae promise to Lydia that propelled her forward, but a promise to herself. It had admittedly been about not letting the two kids absorb any of Lydia’s wrath if she could avoid it, but considering Kelly was currently slung over a stranger’s shoulders- she swallowed, grabbing a pencil from a nearby table, as if it could serve against any kind of weapon. “Please… please put her down! You’re hurting her, she doesn’t understand!” Chloe’s head whipped around, looking at Todd, and the girl standing next to him, away, and then blinked. It couldn’t be. Sammy wasn’t that good of a sketch artist.   

 Okay was such a relative term for Todd to use here when it stood that absolutely none of this was okay. He never should have been here. Ariana should have noticed he was gone. Should have checked in on Kelly more. “Good, just keep pushing forward. Everything is going to be okay,” she assured while placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Was it to steady herself or reassure him? She couldn’t really tell anymore. The vase Sammy made was clutched tightly in her other arm though she nearly dropped it when she heard a scream echo through the hallway. It confirmed it was in fact her Kelly. The very Kelly she decided to keep away from all of this and yet here she was anyway. Fucking bitch. She hoped Athena got a nice stab in for her though immediately chided herself for that thought. “Don’t worry, Todd, she’s just scared. I know all of this is hard and scary, but I’m going to make sure everyone gets out of this, okay?” She desperately hoped she could live up to that statement. They quickly approached Kaden who had Kelly slung over his shoulder. She raced up to comfort Kelly and let her know a familiar face was here. “Hey,” she said softly, getting a good look in Kelly’s eyes, “It’s okay, it’s me, Ari. This is Kaden, he’s not going to hurt you. We’re going to get you out of here, alright? You’re not safe here.” 

 Even though Todd was doing his best to keep himself together, it felt like his brain was going to explode as he tried to keep himself calm. And then, he heard Kelly screaming, heard her yelling, heard her begging for his help. Then a man, who was carrying her. Terrified, Todd felt the pull of the magic begin to curl in the back of his throat, choking him until he reminded himself that they weren’t friends, that they weren’t guests, they weren’t invited. Which didn’t count, it didn’t count, this was a loophole. Even so, he’d heard the fear in Kelly’s voice. He hoped that Ariana was right, that he wouldn’t hurt them. But, what choice did he have? He knew he couldn’t stay here, even though every inch of his body wanted to curl up and hide and wait for Lydia to return. He had to do this. The very thought sent another sharp wave of pain stabbing through his side and Todd staggered a bit, leaning against the wall. “We… We’re not safe here.” He repeated, because it was true and it wasn’t bound in magic. “Hurry. Hurry.” He urged the others. This nightmare, this hell? He just wanted it to end.

 Chloe looked from Agatha to their other rescuers, to Todd, his face scrunched in concentration. Her stomach churned, her insides turned inside out at the thought of how disappointed Lydia would be, at the promises that she was so close to breaking with every breath. “We’re not going anywhere special, okay? We’re going to go look at the Magritte. If you lied to me-” Chloe turned to Agatha, her voice trembling, “If you lied, you could be killing us. But, we’re not doing anything special right now this second. We’re just going to get some inspiration from the Magritte painting. Without Lydia around- Without Lydia around we can just get some second hand inspiration from one of her ancestors.” The painting downstairs, near the front door. She looked back at the blue haired girl, and thought about the glaze Sammy had ordered in just that shade of blue. Could it be?

 Kaden was used to screams in his ears. And she wasn’t even a banshee. Not that it stopped her from trying to rival them, that was for sure. He winced under the weight of her kicking and thrashing against his back. If he clenched his jaw, maybe he wouldn’t feel the pain shooting through his arm, maybe he could just ignore it. As he entered into the foyer, he saw Ari and Keen along with two others. They must be the other hostages. His brow furrowed as the woman begged him to put Kelly down. Guilt seeped deeper into him as he did as he was told, placing her down gently as he could and taking a step back. “Sorry, I-- I’m-- She wouldn’t leave the closet and I didn’t know what else to--” Before he could apologize any further, he felt the pain flashing through his arm again and rubbed the wound. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I--” As Ari said his name, it occurred to him that he never introduced himself, either. Why the fuck was he even here? He certainly wasn’t fucking helping, was he? “That’s right. I’m Kaden. Officer Langley. And this is Detective Keen. And we’re--” His face scrunched up in confusion again when Chloe explained even further. “Just…. here to… admire the, uh, the art.” Was that right? Was that what she was suggesting? There must have been layers upon layers of word binding and fae magic at work. And certainly she’d know how to work around it better than him. “So let’s all head downstairs and make sure we get a good look.” He held out his hand and gestured for them to go ahead of him. He’d make sure they made it down the stairs one way or another. As much as he didn’t want to have to carry on as he had been. 

 Kelly almost bolted the second she was set down, and would have if Ariana hadn’t been right there, alongside Todd. “I don’t understand. Ariana? Are you here too? Did she get you too?” She looked from Ariana to Todd to Chloe, who was slowly lowering her pencil. She looked at Todd, then Chloe, her face wrinkling. “I-... I don’t want to go. We should be staying here, for Lydia.” She looked at Kaden Langley, who was apparently a police officer, which meant… which meant… “Just… Just looking at the art, right. Um, okay.” She agreed, and cautiously walked down the stairs, to look at the Magritte. 

 Shit. She rushed after Chloe, and stopped in the foyer, where the rest of them were. So there were two other hostages then. At least two, she corrected herself, observing what was going on. She almost said something about Kaden’s way of handling the issue, but decided against it. Agatha refused to demolish his authority in a situation as unstable as this one, even if she did not like this. “Well now she’s out of the closet,” this was not intended as a joke, and she kept her upper lip stiff. “Alright, yes. We were going to go downstairs to look at the Magritte,” wait they had a Magritte in here? What the fuck. Her face remained neutral, but the cogs in her heads were starting to hurt, as it seemed that she was hopping from surprise to surprise in this house. As one of the people in the room mentioned that Lydia could come back, she looked over at Chloe and shook her head, to remind her that no, Lydia was gone. Apparently the person Kaden had been carrying was not ready for that, and it was probably best to persuade her out of here through other means. She approached her coworker and, her eyebrow raised, she commented: “this is even worse than we imagined, isn’t it?”

 Magritte? Who was that? Todd wasn’t sure what they were talking about; hadn’t Ariana told him they were going to get-- A fresh spike of pain had him leaning heavily against the hallway, grasping at his side. No, no, no, no. No, they were just going to see Magritte or whatever and they were… he was being good. He was listening, he was keeping his promise. He wasn’t disobeying. He was here, he was here, he was here. “Uh huh. Uh huh.” He nodded, trying to keep his mind as clear of this as he could. But, it was getting harder and harder to not think of the circumstances when he realized that the two not-guests Ariana had were police officers. “Let’s go look at the art.” He nodded in agreement.

 The inclination to run was evident on Kelly’s face and she couldn’t ignore the guilt churning in her stomach. Ariana should have figured out a way to warn her, she did know she was perfect prey for Lydia. She reached out to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s me,” she said softly, “She didn’t get me. I figured out what was going on here.” The other woman had to be Chloe. Sammy had mentioned her and she had hoped she’d still be here. That she hadn’t been too late. There was something akin to relief running through her, but they weren’t out of the clear just yet. She nodded, “Chloe’s right. We should all get some inspiration from Magritte.” Whoever the hell that was. It hardly mattered if it helped them out of here. It was only a matter of time before Lydia was dead if she wasn’t already. Kelly didn’t seem ready to face that news so they’d focus on one thing at a time. 

 Magritte was a painter Lydia liked to show off several times a year, because his bizarre art style was often popular, even in the less expensive and famous pieces that she owned. Had owned, if she had abandoned it all here. Chloe paused the group in front of the painting, her hand curled in a tight fist to distract from the pain of thinking about this. “She’s not coming back,” Chloe said softly to the other two, taking Kelly’s hand in her own. Sickeningly, it reminded her of how Lydia comforted them from time to time, so she dropped that hand just as quickly. “It’s going to hurt more the longer we wait.” Chloe had been here too long. Her bones felt stiff, her body weary. She couldn’t frighten them off, especially Kelly, who was struggling to understand so much. “You’re going to have to break a promise. These-” Chloe looked at Kaden, who Lydia had once described as the most monstrous french creature in town, with frightening strength, and then to Ariana, who was a werewolf, that Sammy had waxed lyrical about. “These people can help, but it’s going to hurt, okay? But you’re going to go first, both of you, and it’s going to be -ah,” Chloe curled in on herself as the promise against lies pulled a stitch in her side. “We’ll figure it out. She’s not coming back, leaving isn’t disappointing her.”

 “And it’s not over yet,” Kaden said quietly to Keen. He lingered behind in the foyer, let everyone go down ahead of him, hand hovering by his pistol, just in case. He knew there was no one else here, but something about this place made him worry that anything could jump out at them at any time. That it couldn’t be as simple as walking right out the front door. When they got down there by what he assumed was the Magritte, he turned the door handle and pushed. It was nearly silent, and yet the sound of the door swinging open on its hinges echoed around them. He took a step past the threshold of the house like it was simple. For him, it was. “She’s right,” he said after Chloe spoke. “This isn’t going to be easy. Even if Lydia’s gone and never coming back.” There was no guarantee this would work, that the promises wouldn’t hold post death. As far as he knew, they did. That’s what the fae all said, at least. Words were more powerful than mortality. “Is there, uh, any more inspiration outside? On the grounds, maybe?” he asked tentatively, trying to catch Chloe’s eye for some confirmation that he was on the right track. There wasn’t much left in the garden that wasn’t destroyed, not now. But that wasn’t the point. “Kelly? Are you okay to find out? Maybe take a look?” he asked, shifting his focus to her and tentatively holding out his hand. 

 The moment of truth was upon them. They were coming up on the door and this was where things would get difficult. Ariana took in a deep breath to keep herself steady as she spoke. “That could work, I know the promises are varied,” she said in a hushed tone mostly meant for Kaden and Agatha to hear. She stood closer to Agatha, but she hoped Kaden’s handy dandy hunter hearing would come into play here. “She usually makes them promise not to leave her home. Not to make any sounds when guests are present, they can’t even sneeze. She’ll turn anything they say that she can into a promise. I’m not sure what our work around should be.” 

 Agatha still didn’t understand how this worked, it was most likely hypnosis, but there was a way to go around those, as she’d found out earlier, as she shot Kaden without causing too much harm to him. As Ariana mentioned Lydia’s home, the detective had a small, and yet malicious smile. There might have been a way for them all to get out of here, and no one getting hurt, she thought to herself. She felt her heart lifting in her chest as she took a deep breath. “This is not her home anymore,” she glanced at Ariana, then at her coworker and added. “She left, and this is a crime scene. This place is now under custody of the police department,” her smile brightened and she gave Chloe a look full of hope, nodding at her.

 Kelly stared at Kaden’s hand, as he offered it, and took it cautiously. She was pretty sure it didn’t work like that, and one look at Chloe’s face suggested it wasn’t very convincing. But Ariana… Ariana just knew, apparently, she knew things about Lydia that Kelly hadn’t until it was way too late. Finally, she looked to Agatha. “It’s- A crime scene? But, I want.” Chloe swallowed. “She left. It’s not her home. I- okay.” She turned back to Kaden, grit her teeth, and tried to move. Her joints locked up, freezing her in the doorway.  “Help,” she breathed, her muscles beginning to burn as if she’d run a marathon rather than just walked down the stairs. Everything in her strained to stay inside the house, to drop his hand, to return to their bedroom and curl away from the world. It felt like it was breaking a promise, it felt wrong, even if this wasn’t Lydia’s home. She didn’t even know if her hesitation was psychological or the promise itself. It was embarrassing, all these people watching her. But suddenly her muscles moved and Kaden pulled and she had to put her foot down just so she wouldn’t fall on her face, and… she was outside. Kelly stared up at Kaden with the biggest look of confusion, then back through the door. “I’m… okay? I’m okay!”

 This all sounded way too easy. Kaden wasn’t sure if they could just walk out the door and be perfectly okay. Would Keen’s idea even work? He held his breath and waited, watching Kelly take tepid steps towards the door. It felt like she stood there forever. Maybe she couldn’t do it on her own. And when she asked for help, it was clear that she couldn’t. Help. He was trying, but he didn’t know if he was doing the right thing. That didn’t stop him from trying. He reached out and pulled her across the threshold. He braced himself for her to collapse into pain or try to run back, something, anything. “You’re okay?” he repeated. The tension held in his chest dissipated as relief started to wash over him. One down. This would work. They’d be okay. They could save them. “You’re going to be okay,” he assured her with a smile before looking back to see who was next. 

 A tiny ball dissolved in Chloe’s chest as Kelly’s eyes lit up properly in the outside floodlights. Kelly looked from the door to Kaden and the outside again. It would start to ache soon enough, she knew. Not the promise, perhaps, but biochemical need to be with Lydia. Chloe just didn’t point that out. She also didn’t point out that Kelly and Todd only had a couple dozen promises between them, far fewer things to trip over than Chloe’s hundreds of promises. She looked at Agatha briefly, and tried to match that smile with one of her own. Maybe Lydia being gone meant Lydia being dead. Chloe swallowed, and tried to smile even more brightly for Todd. “You next, tough guy.” She gave him a quick hug, just in case she didn’t make it to the other side with them. 

 Thankfully, Agatha seemed to say the right thing and with a little push, Kelly was over the threshold. Ariana felt like she could breathe a little easier. This could work. They were going to get everyone out of here. She wasn’t going to fail all of them the same way she failed Sammy. She just needed to keep herself steady and confident to give the other two the push they needed to get out of here. They were relying on her so she did her best to hide her shock. “You’re okay,” she said with a soft smile before turning to Todd. Chloe had given him a quick hug and she stood beside him. Ariana placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You got this, we’re almost there,” she explained and offered up her hand if he wanted to take it. 

 Listening intently to the others, Todd tried to reassure himself that they were right. This wasn’t Lydia’s home anymore, it wasn’t hers. It was a crime scene. And he’d be able to leave a crime scene, right? She didn’t live here, it wasn’t her property, it wasn’t hers anymore. She didn’t own this place and she didn’t own him. He watched, with bated breath, as Kelly stepped over the threshold and out into the yard. And, for a long moment, all eyes were glued on her. But, if the punishment was going to come, wouldn’t it have happened already? A rush of relief washed over him as Kelly celebrated. Swallowing, he nodded at the others around him. “I got this,” He mumbled, cheek pressed against Chloe’s head as she hugged her tightly. “I got this. We’re getting out of here. We’re getting out of here.” He said and looked at Ariana with a nod. 

 Todd took a deep breath, steadying himself. This wasn’t her home, it was a crime scene. It was a crime scene. Those were the words he kept repeating to himself as he leaped forward, forcing himself to push through the pain that threatened to bring him to his knees. It wasn’t hers, he wasn’t hers. He was going to be free, just like Kelly and then Chloe would join them and they’d all be free. He’d be able to tell his parents how sorry he was, he’d apologize to Winston, he’d tell them everything about what had happened, he’d make it up to Ariana for having to rescue him from this. He’d do so much, once he was free. And, as he staggered upright in the front yard, he looked around with wide eyes.

 But that’s not how Fae promises work.

 Excruciating pain stabbed through his chest, starting in his heart and exploding outwards. It felt like someone had injected liquid metal into his body, boiling hot, and burning him from the inside out. A choking scream escaped his lips as Todd’s knees buckled underneath him, unable to keep him upright. He collapsed onto his stomach, body shaking with tremors as his hands reached up to grip his skull. His head felt as though it was imploding, like someone had stuck his brain in a vacuum, like it was going to collapse in on itself. His fingers clawed at his chest, his forehead, scraping at the flesh in an attempt to relieve the pain. He scrabbled against the earth, screaming, weeping, bleeding as he tried to crawl back to the house. But, he’d broken his promise.

 With a shuddering gasp, Todd’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. A final violent tremor ran through his body and then, the DJ was no more.

 “You totally got this,” Ariana assured as he prepared himself to step outside of Lydia’s home. Kelly making it over the threshold had given her confidence that Todd would be okay. That he’d leave here and she could tell Winston they’d need to look after him from here on out. She’d be a better friend. She’d check in on him more and make sure no more vile women like Lydia went near him ever again. If she hadn’t completely erased the word from her vocabulary, she would have promised him as much. She stood just outside the doorway now, ready to give him a hand if needed. There was a momentary proud look on her face as he began to step out of the house that was quickly replaced with one of horror.

 “No,” Ariana whispered to herself, “No.” She quickly knelt down to try and hold Todd up, but the way he was clawing at his own chest made it impossible to do so. The pain on his face and in his screams was enough to make her feel sick. She reached out unsure of what to do. “Todd, no, breathe.” Come on, just breathe. Please don’t. “You’re over, it’s over, you’ll-” Her voice was strained and her hands felt useless trying to find a way to keep him upright. There had to be something she could do, but she was paralyzed by trying to find the answer, hands still extended hoping he’d reach for them and find a way to steady himself. Grip to her through the pain, she could take it. What she couldn’t take was what happened instead. 

 Defeat was evident in the way her features contorted on her face. Ariana dropped down to the ground beside Todd, hoping against all better judgment that this wasn’t it. That he just needed to be carried out of here. Her ears felt as if they were about to pop with the pressure that was building up as she bit back tears. Still, she listened for any sign of a heartbeat, but there was none to be found. Shaky hands reached down to feel for Todd’s pulse even though she knew better. She knew she failed Todd just like she had failed Sammy. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed out soft enough that no one with ordinary hearing would be able to hear. She was frozen in place, staring down at the damage as if she could will it to change. Will Todd to move again, to stand up and say this was all some sort of joke. She wanted to move, wanted to remember that Kelly and Chloe still needed her, but she couldn’t find it in her to stand back up. They were better off with Kaden and Agatha anyhow. All she seemed to do is make this whole thing worse. 

 Kelly watched Todd with wide eyes as Todd stepped over the door, her own smile cautiously watching him. For a second, when his foot touched the pavement, he was fine, and Kelly was about to be ready to celebrate with him when he contorted. She jumped back as he screamed, her hand flying over her mouth as he clutched at his head. “Do something!” She cried out, but stood frozen on the ground as Todd collapsed to the ground. “Do something!” He tried to crawl back, but it was too late. He shook, once, twice, as Kelly leant against 

Kaden and wept, but the silence after his last scream was so much worse. Watching Ariana, Kelly found the courage to move forward too, cracking her knees against the pavement as she knelt over him. “TODD!” Kelly shook his shoulders, and then did the only thing she could think of, a move half remembered from a training video she’d watched years ago.  Pounding on his chest, Kelly begged him to come back, or anything. 

 For all the misery in Kelly’s scream, the sound Chloe made was even more wretched. She choked and gagged after trying to scream herself, silent tears spilling down her face. “Don’t ever scream again,” Lydia had once told her, and Chloe had promised without hesitation, Sammy’s blood still soaking her clothes. Her tongue swelled up as if stung by a bee. Chloe clutched her chest until the coughing subsided, but when she looked up, Todd was already dead. “No,” Chloe breathed, sagging against the wall. Surrender was so much easier. “No, no.” She could clean it up. She could fix the door and sweep up the glass and make everything fine, so Lydia wouldn’t be upset. Todd wouldn’t have to bear the weight of Lydia’s wrath if Chloe was- She swallowed. Todd was dead. It was too late.

 Kaden stood and watched as Todd started to walk forward. He knew he shouldn’t be as hopeful as he felt, and yet, he was sure this would work. Up until the kid collapsed. Part of him wanted to reach out, but Ari was already there, so he held Kelly back instead for the moment. The last thing they needed was for her to go back into that place. And Ari had it. Didn’t she? He would be-- But he wasn’t fine. He seized and Kelly and Chloe screamed. Kaden wasn’t sure what he did because the world seemed to stop and stand still. His grip on Kelly fell and all he could do was watch as she and Ari tried to bring Todd back to life. The sounds finally hit his ears and the world was turning again. He didn’t need to feel his pulse, he saw Ari check it and he could hear that his heart was no longer beating. There was no more hope left for Todd. He thought about pulling Kelly away, Ari, too. But he thought better of it. There was nothing more he could do there and they were okay as they could be. But Chloe. What was going to happen to Chloe? His pulse spiked as he looked over at her. “Hey,” he said trying to catch her attention from the other side of the doorway. “Chloe, I know-- Don’t give up. Not yet. Don’t--” He wasn’t sure he was any help. His eyes darted to Agatha, hoping she might have an answer. Forcing Chloe out of the house seemed so much more dangerous now. But she couldn’t stay, could she? Putain. What did they do?

 All she could do was watch, watch Todd drop to the ground, Kelly beg, Chloe turn back to the state she found her in back in the office. She’d never been one to stand and watch as things happened before her, and yet, here she was completely speechless as she tried to make sense of what had happened here. Elation had given room to death and despair much too soon. If her heart once again felt heavy in her chest, she put it aside, refusing this desperate situation to take control of them all. If Kelly had managed to get out, then maybe Chloe would be fine, or maybe Agatha would regret this. Sourly. Gathering all the softness that she could muster, the detective squatted down, sitting just a little lower than Chloe, and with hope in her eyes, she looked straight into Chloe’s and reached for her hands, slowly. She would have usually gone straight to the other side of the door, see if she could do anything to help save Todd, but there was something inevitable, almost prophetic about the way he had died. Brutal, ruthless, with no chance of survival. Yet, Agatha believed. She looked at Chloe as someone who believed, and when she spoke, if it felt like walking on a line high above the ground, she made sure not to look down. “We’re going to try. You and I, we’re going to try, because we know she’s gone for good, and I know there’s a lot for you out there, so much more than in here. Think of all the places you’ll go, and see. The beauty,” there was a quiver in her voice the more she spoke, but she did not break. “Let’s try, please.”

 “I gave up years ago,” Chloe snapped at Kaden, instantly regretting her words as Kelly whimpered. She rubbed her face, trying to get the tears against her face. She pulled a face that she hoped looked like an apology to Kaden, but her gaze slid back to Todd, dead on the floor. Like Sammy, trying to escape in his own way. Sammy had meant to come back, but it hadn’t made any difference. Chloe had cleaned his brain off the wall because of it, and she had thought then that she was proud of him having tried to escape. Maybe a quick death was better than what Anneliese had had in the end. Taking Agatha’s hand, she stood up shakily. Every atom in her wanted to split itself into two: the part that needed to stay, and the part that had seen Lydia for the viper she had been from the start. She didn’t listen to Agatha’s pretty words. Pretty words held lies and half truths. Everyone was looking at Todd’s dead body, and wondering how hers would survive if his hadn’t. They all used different words, which to fae made all the difference, but Chloe could barely remember what words she’d used before this. Hell, a single tense could kill her or save her. She just… couldn’t say that. She couldn’t tell them that she’d resigned herself to dying in this dragon’s lair years ago. She couldn’t extinguish the hopes on her rescuers’ faces before trying.

  “Look away,” Chloe said to Kelly, and didn’t even try until Kelly had. She took a deep breath, nearly throwing up with the effort of pushing her muscles over the edge. It was like trying to get through tar. Maybe it wasn’t worth the fight at all. She could live here comfortably until her natural death, which was what Lydia would want. She could avoid the pain of breaking this promise. She grit her teeth. Life in a gilded cage was still caged. Then, like an elastic band snapping, she was over the threshold and felt nothing trying to pull her back in. Chloe inhaled the chilly, winter air, and thought maybe she should have grabbed a coat before all this. Then lightning tore through her mind, blood spilled on her face from her nose, and Chloe went the same way Todd had, right to the ground. 

 Everything around her kept moving, but Ariana remained frozen for a moment, staring at Todd’s lifeless body. If she stared at it long enough, maybe it would distort back to how it was supposed to be. Kelly and Chloe’s screams barely even registered in her ears until Kelly was beside her beating on Todd’s chest. Kelly. She’d wanted so badly for her to never know this kind of pain, so much so she put herself through more just to avoid it, but it had all been for not. Hadn’t they lost enough? Seeing Kelly’s panic awoke something in her and she took a shaky breath. She could be strong for right now. She could be strong for Kelly who needed someone to be strong for her. Kaden and Agatha were already with Chloe. After her failed attempt with Todd, it only seemed right to leave that to them. This, she could do. She placed her hand gently on Kelly’s shoulder and softly said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but he’s gone. We need to keep moving and help Chloe now, okay?” 

 “Well I haven’t,” Kaden replied, not combatively but with no room to argue. He knew hope hurt like hell. He didn’t know how long she’d been there or how she got there, but he could only imagine that trying to hold onto any spark of hope in the situation she found herself in would have torn her apart. He was getting used to holding onto hope for someone else, carrying it for them when they couldn’t bear to conceive of it. He’d do it for her now if he could. And thankfully, so would Keen. He was grateful she was there, keeping them level and together, standing beside Chloe. He nodded and waited on the other side of the door, just in case anything went wrong. Now that there was no doubt just how possible that was. 

 He watched her closely, monitored each step she took. He saw the struggle on her face, but there was a brief pause where she looked like she was just fine, like she would face the same fate as Kelly. And then the blood poured from her nose. “No. No, no,” he started and she tumbled down towards the ground. Kaden lunged out for her, catching her before she toppled to the ground, stumbling down to his knees as he did. “Chloe! Chloe, no,” he shouted, giving her one shake to try and revive her. She couldn't die. She couldn’t. They were going to fix this, they were supposed to save them. Losing Todd was horrible enough this-- “Chloe, please, don’t--” He could feel his own breaths get shallow and then remembered to check her pulse. Her heart had slowed, but it was still beating. “I think she’s alive. She should be--” Please wake up, please. These people deserved so much better and Lydia didn’t deserve a single victory, even in death. 

 For a short moment, Agatha had wondered whether Chloe would step over that threshold or not. Perhaps she should have, she thought to herself. No, no, absolutely not. A life spent in this house was not a life, and the detective was both proud and full of sorrow as she reflected on Chloe’s last action. No, this could not be her last. No, no, no, no. The detective repeated the word under her breath, exiting the house last to rush to Chloe’s side. “I’m calling an ambulance,” she declared, glancing at everyone around her as she dialled the number. She would call for backup next, but for now they had to save Chloe while they still could. “Put her on her side,” she commanded, standing up and walking aside to speak to the 

Operator. 

 “No,” Kelly said, tear tracks on her face. She looked over to Ariana. “No, I can’t- I don’t understand. I don’t understand what happened. He- he was fine. Chloe- Chloe, don’t!” She stared at Chloe before nodding and squeezing her eyes shut. She whimpered as she heard Kaden yell, her eyes flashing open to look at Ari. It wasn’t until Agatha said she was calling an ambulance that she dared look back okay. “Is it over?”

 There were warm arms around her. A chilly breeze tickled her cheeks. Grey winter light streamed through her eyelids. There was more pain than Chloe had felt in months, but there was more than that too. She blinked open her eyes, and tried to sit up. That- that was a bad idea. “I think- I think I’m going to stay down here,” Chloe murmured. She squinted up at the three of them, Agatha walking away with her phone, Kaden holding her and Ariana holding Kelly. That blue hair... “You’re the one who tried to save Sammy, aren’t you?” She asked Ariana softly, her voice croaking. Her eyes drifted back over to Todd, his eyes shuttered. No one home. She moved just enough to take his hand. There was so much pain. There was also something else. 

 Ariana couldn’t refrain from outwardly cringing when she saw the struggle Chloe went through upon exiting the home. Prison. Whatever someone would call it. This couldn't be happening. Lydia couldn’t be having this much of a victory. Not in death. Her stomach turned as she was unable to take her eyes off the scene in front of her. A comforting hand remained on Kelly’s shoulder though at some point she had to wonder which one of them she was even supporting. The blur of sounds around her stopped mattering as she remained hyperfocused on the sound of Chloe’s heartbeat that wasn’t quitting. She was still there. Still fighting. Hope wasn’t lost yet though the fear of it being crushed yet again was far from gone. An ambulance was on the way and Kaden was supporting Chloe, keeping her on her side. The storm had died down and she calmly said, “It’s over.” As much as it could be over. She knew better than to believe they wouldn’t be living with the scars long after this. “You’re free,” she assured Kelly as she still stared at Chloe. Her voice sounded strained, but Sammy’s name rang out in her mind. She nodded slowly and said, “I-- That’s me. I’m sorry I didn’t. But you’re getting out of here and she’ll never do this to anyone again.” She knew Athena would make sure of that. Everything still felt like hell and she could hear the sirens approaching in the distance, but it was over. This was finally over.  

 Kaden tried to get Chloe on her side before she pulled herself up. “Hey, wait, don’t--” Thankfully she figured it out before he had to pull her back down. He nodded at Keen as she went over to call 911. “We have to call in the death,” he added. It was meant to be nothing more than matter of fact, procedure. It hit him harder than he expected. They were supposed to save them. All of them. He wasn’t even sure if Chloe would remain okay. If she had broken free from all of the promises. But she was here. And breathing. And out of that prison of a house. He looked up at it, most of the windows broken or covered. It was shattered, just like the illusion of who Lydia was. Forever. He wanted to burn the place down, be rid of it and her once and for all. But they needed the evidence still left there. They’d make sure that no trace left of Lydia Griffin would be praised or lauded ever again. And make sure that Kelly and Chloe got justice they deserved, some compensation or retribution for this. And that meant leaving that awful place intact. “It’s over,” he repeated. “You’re safe,” he said, looking from Kelly back to Chloe. He hoped that was finally true. 

Returning to Chloe’s side, Agatha assured her that an ambulance would come soon, and that she would be taken good care of. Her eyes then drifted toward Kaden’s arm, then to him. A silent nod answering his demand, the detective once again stepped away from the rest of the group, this time calling the morgue. She looked away, the group fussing around Chloe, responding mechanically to the operator's injunctions on the other end of the line. A tear came to burn her cheek, then another. With an audible sniff, she turned her back to the others, and walked away a little further. Behind his back, she heard Kaden repeat: You're safe, and although she was often optimistic this time, the idea that this nightmare was over did not seem to satisfy. Not that she thought all was well that ended well, but because it was hard to believe until Chloe got out of the woods.

[silveraccent]

Rat Chef || Grace & Kaden

TIMING: Current. LOCATION: Grace’s apartment. PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup @silveraccent SUMMARY: Kaden visits Grace’s apartment with a pie. She offers soup in this trying time and they watch Ratatouille together. 

Grace glanced down at her phone, surprised to see a text message from Kaden announcing his arrival. Why he was at her apartment, now absent of sand, she couldn’t be sure. Maybe he was here to see Blanche and Ariana, too. Grace thought back to hers and Morgan’s conversation, an attempt at pushing the idea she wasn’t worth anybody’s time or effort far from her mind. She paused her movie and hopped off of her three-seater couch before approaching the door just as a knock sounded. She pulled the door open and smiled at Kaden before stepping aside. “Oh, it’s you.” Grace let out a laugh before motioning him inside. He had a bag in his arms, leaving Grace to look at it curiously. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but uh, what’s up?” Suddenly, the fear of there having been something bad that happened-- to him-- no, he looked… fine. Better than the last time she had seen him. She fought the urge to interrupt him and simply flexed her fingers. Grace turned towards the television as it unpaused itself, allowing Ratatouille to start playing. “Son of a--” Grace hurried towards the remote and punched her finger into the pause button once more. ‘

Kaden still hadn’t found ways to fill his free time with anything other than baking. There was a comforting routine and trance that came from combining butter and flour and sugar together to make pies and pastries. In the kitchen, he was able to quiet his mind, push away the thoughts and fears threatening to pull him under at any moment. Perfection also didn’t matter, not in the same way that it did when in the field or on the job. Or even when dealing with people, lately. If he messed up in the kitchen, he could try again. He could rearrange it and make it something new. And he never had to share his failures or apologize to anyone. It was the one thing he was sure didn’t make people’s lives worse. It might not actively help anyone and it was probably a waste of fucking time, but he found himself wasting his time there more and more. The one problem? The excess of baked goods he didn’t need or particularly want. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, sometimes the stupid jokes at the Station got to him, picked away at his thick skin when people jibed at him. And he didn’t need any comments of any kind about his baking. No assumptions, either. It was easier to give the pies to Morgan to redistribute. But not this one. This pie had a home. At least he hoped. Ariana and Blanche already got their delivery and there was one stop left. He wasn’t sure if she even wanted the stupid pie, but he stood at Grace’s door and knocked anyway. “Hey,” he said as she greeted him. “I, uh, I went on another round of baking.” Another round. Right. Like he’d ever taken a single breather since the scream at the morgue save for the full moon. “Figured you might appreciate this pie more than me so I thought--” His brow furrowed as he stepped inside and heard the television jump to life again. It looked familiar. A little like the thing Blanche sent him the other day. “I see you found something other than that gossip show to watch.”

“Another pie?” Grace asked over her shoulder. She looked at his hands, the glass pie plate now familiar. “I’ll take it.” She thought about Morgan, how she had been helping him, too. Grace was no longer in the self-depreciating headspace. Sure, there were moments, but for the most part her conversation with Morgan and seeing Regan had helped her. She was still struggling with the idea that if something happened again, in any capacity, there’d not be much she’d be able to do to help. That was the reality of the situation, however. No matter how badly she wanted to help, maybe she was meant to stay back, to stand idly by. It wasn’t her speed, but in a town like White Crest, maybe she had no other choice. So this time, she’d accept the pie with a smile. She’d tell Kaden thank you instead of telling him she didn’t need his pity. She wouldn’t cry, either. She looked towards the television and let out a laugh. “Yeah. I haven’t seen this movie since I was a kid, but with all the conversation surrounding it…” She worried her lower lip before looking back over to him. “Let me take that.” Grace took the pie to the kitchenette around the corner before she poked her head out. “I just made some soup, it’s for Ari, but if you want some…?” Grace asked as she leaned against the wall. “Or if you had somewhere to be, I can pack it up for you?” 

“Yeah, another pie. I mean, only if you want it. You don’t have to--” Kaden’s protests didn’t last long since she decided to take the stupid pie from him. He wondered if it was out of pity. He also wasn’t sure that it mattered one way or the other. He was ready to take off, leave her be and go back home when she called out from the kitchen. “Soup? I mean, I don’t want to impose.” Kaden rubbed the back of his neck. He hated admitting that he really didn't have anywhere else to be, pathetic as that was. It was here or a bar. Which was sadder? “But yeah if you want to share, I’d stay.” His eyes drifted back towards the screen. “So this is the movie people keep asking me about?” He didn’t mean to but he kept watching, trying to piece together what was going on. “Is there a reason why the rat talks?”

“Cool, take a seat.” Grace wasted no time in portioning out the soup into a bowl. Before his arrival, she had already had her fair share. She opened her instant pot and portioned out some of the beef as well, ladling it into the bowl. She set it down at the table, just adjacent in viewing from the television. She had spent many nights there, her sketchbook in front of her while The Office played in the background. “Yeah, I think so.” She grabbed a spoon and set it next to the bowl and walked towards the couch, sitting on the arm of it. Grace grabbed the remote and fidgeted with it for a moment. “Uh, no. They don’t ever explain that. But he’s sort of got this taste for gourmet foods that the rest of his colony doesn’t understand, and so he goes to this restaurant and ends up helping this clueless American chef there…” Grace let out a laugh. Since when did she know so much about kid’s movies? She looked over at Kaden with a smile. “If you want to watch it, I think it’d give you an edge to Blanche’s teasing. Then again, she might tease you for having watched it.” 

“There’s no avoiding Blanche’s teasing, I’ve learned that much.” Kaden took a seat hesitantly, not because he didn’t enjoy Grace’s company or hospitality, but he just wasn’t used to any of this. He tried to think of how often he was really invited over to people’s houses just a year ago. Sure, he crashed with other hunters but that wasn’t the same as it was here in White Crest. It was funny how a town so hellbent on trying to kill them was sometimes so much warmer than anywhere else. “Thanks,” he told her as she sat the bowl down. She didn’t pour her own so he assumed she already had some herself. He took a spoonful, let the flavors hit his tongue and savored the meal. “This soup is great,” he said, flashing her a smile. It was different than what he would have made, certainly, but it was wonderful all the same. He listened to more of the movie as he ate, trying not to slurp too loudly as he did. “So you’re telling me the talking rat is a chef?” His brow furrowed. He had to admit, the cooking technique they were showing was accurate enough. “But why not watch something about actual rats? Or actual cooking programs?” 

“She leaves me alone. For the most part.” Grace began to press the volume button up and down, not sure if Kaden was actually into staying-- was he being nice? He seemed unsure, too. Still, he was eating the soup, that was a good sign, right? Grace swallowed the anxiety and pressed play on the movie. It was a little louder than needed, so she instead turned on the subtitles and lowered the volume. “Really, you think so?” Grace’s attention flickered to the soup on the table, then to Kaden’s face. “I’m glad.” It was one of the only things that Grace had perfected from her grandmother’s recipes. They had made it so many times together, repurposing the broth for so much more, and Grace was happy to know that others liked it just as much as she had. It was a laborious process, not easy by any means, and it took hours to make, so the fact that Kaden was grateful, it made Grace feel at ease. “Yeah, sort of? He controls the American chef by pulling on his hair from underneath his hat.” Grace laughed, knowing how absurd it was. “It’s a fun movie, I don’t think it’s that deep. Sometimes you just… sort of need something not realistic, right? Something to take away from your day-to-day-life. I can’t think of anything further removed than a rat under a man’s hat guiding him on how to cook.” Grace shrugged lightly before twisting so that she sunk into the couch, ler legs over the arm that she had previously been sitting on. “The whole purpose is that the main chef at this place, he died, and so later on it’s under some issue? I think, and then a food critic’s entire opinion on the place will either destroy it or save it, and so Remmy becomes a hero, and by proxy the chef.” 

“I’m just one of her favorite targets so I’m not surprised.” Kaden realized it had been a little while since he’d properly checked on Blanche beyond just dropping off a pie and felt a tinge of guilt, just for a second. He sighed and took another spoonful of soup. He could do that later, but he needed to make sure he didn’t accidentally dump any of the shit weighing heavily on him onto her. Maybe it was best he kept a little distance right now. “I wouldn’t say I liked it if I didn’t mean it. Wouldn’t keep eating it, either,” he told her. “Onion soup is usually my go to soup. I could make you some sometime if you want. I usually end up with enough to feed an army.” He wondered if that sounded like he was trying to compete or something. Putain. “Only if you want, no pressure.” He shook his head a little as he savored more of the broth and picked away at some of the beef with his spoon. “I don’t know. In this town, sometimes it’s nice to be reminded that normal things still exist.” People talked about escapism, usually they meant fantasy and fiction. Things they thought weren’t real but were. He knew better and the last thing he wanted was reminders of just how fucked up everything really was. For him, escapism meant pretending like none of it existed. That there was no magic, no monsters, and hell, no mimes. “So you’re telling me they let a rat in the kitchen? And the rat is the chef. And is the hero?” His eyes narrowed a moment. “Why does no one call the health inspectors?” 

 “Onion soup?” Grace asked over her shoulder, an eyebrow arched. “Like French onion?” Grace allowed the grin to pull at the corners of her lips, “you get it? ‘Cause you’re French?” To be honest, she wouldn’t even be able to tell if French onion soup was actually French or not, or if it was something thrown in to make it seem fancier than it actually was. All she knew was it was hard to clean it from mugs-- her past waitress jobs had proved as such. “Sure, I’ll give it a go. You’re eating my soup, so it’s only fair that I try yours too.” Grace thought for a moment to ask Kaden if he would bring Regan some, too, but she thought better of it at the last moment. The fiasco on the television, a clatter of cooking utensils and hurried yelling sends Grace’s attention back to the scene. “You mean to tell me that a rat under a man’s hat isn’t normal?” She said loudly over the scene, laughter edging on her tone. “Well, no, not everyone-- nobody knows he’s there except for that redheaded guy.” Grace watched the scene unfold a bit longer before she finally responded to Kaden, “I mean, why would the kid who wants to prove himself report the very reason he’s succeeding? He lies pretty much the entire time, but he gains fake respect, up until everyone discovers what’s actually happening.” Grace tapped her finger against her jaw, watching as Remmy finally disappeared from view. “I think if I ever get a rat, I’ll name him Remmy.” 

“Well, yeah I am Fr--” Kaden blinked as she filled in the blank as a joke before he could finish. He smiled back, though, shaking his head a little. “Yes, very funny. Same soup though, I believe. I think that’s what it’s called over here. Beef broth, caramelized onions, toasted bread and gruyere on top.” Now he was worrying that she wasn’t a fan. Maybe he should offer other soup. He could make other soup, too. A small sigh of relief left him as she agreed to try his recipe. “Good. Hopefully you won’t be disappointed.” For whatever reason, he didn't want to let Grace down. Maybe it was because he got the feeling too many people had done that to her. Maybe it was because too many people had done that to him. Didn’t matter. She was going to get the best soup he could muster. Stupid as that maybe. He dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin and turned his attention back to the movie. “I mean in this town it could probably happen.” Which was half the problem. “I guess. But he’s going to probe himself with a rat under his hat?” It was silly and baffling. He still wasn’t quite sure he understood. But he couldn’t look away either way. “You know if you wanted a rat, we have a few you could adopt at the shelter. If you wanted. Rats make great pets. Really smart, trainable, too.” He saw the rat controlling the man with his hair and he shook his head a little again. “Not that trainable, though. For clarity.”

The volume on the television fluctuated, causing Grace to turn down the volume once more. Grace shrugged, “I’m not disappointed by a lot. I ate Easy Mac my entire first two months of living here, and in college, too.” She pulled the throw blanket from the other side of her love seat onto her lap and tucked it underneath her toes. When Kaden mentioned that something like the movie could happen in this town, Grace thought back to all of the things she had seen. No, not now. She couldn’t dive into the mysteries of White Crest, and certainly not worry about what it meant for her future, or anybody else’s future. Grace tucked the blanket underneath of her chin and tilted her head back to look at Kaden as he spoke. “Really?” She looked past him towards the tank she had gotten for Ruthie who, as always, stared her way. She had gotten used to it, and at this point, it seemed more like he was waiting for her to feed him rather than anything ominous. “I think that he could use a friend,” Grace pointed towards her fish. “It’s too bad though. About not being able to train a rat to cook. All I can seem to get right is this soup.” She propped her elbow up on the arm of the couch and pressed her fingers into her temples as she watched the food critic enter the restaurant. “Oh, this is where he’s taken back to his childhood by the way.” For whatever reason, this part of the film didn’t resonate with her-- there was nothing that could pull her away from where she was, making her succumb to an easier, prettier time. 

“A low bar. Well I’m alright with that. It’s funny how many people around here think my cooking or baking is something special or what have you. I thought it was basic at best.” Kaden shrugged. He still didn’t think he was all that talented. Good enough, sure, but that was that. “Guess this town keeps the bar pretty low for most things.” Then again, with a death rate as high as White Crest’s, you had to keep something low. He followed her line of sight to the fish. It was a goofy looking thing, lopsided eyes, but charming in its own right. “I mean, better choice than a cat, that’s for sure.” He took another sip of the soup, it was honestly hard not to continuously gulp it down, but he did want to appreciate it. “I don’t think a cat would make friends with Ruthie the way you’d hope for. And hey, it’s damn good soup. So that’s better than most people.” He thought to Blanche and her attempts at cooking and nearly shuddered. “If you want to learn more, I don’t mind teaching you. I mean, if you want. I know a few sauces. You can use it as a base for most things. No pressure, though.” At this rate, he figured he really ought to open up lessons. Invite the town. Maybe charge. He looked back to Grace who was focused once more on the movie. No, he couldn’t charge her. He sighed and ate more of the soup before turning his attention to the movie. The tall french man in the movie flashed back to when he was a child. There was no mistaking the dish was ratatouille. And sure, a good dish could make him remember times past. It was part of why he liked baking, It reminded him of those small pieces of childhood without pain. They were short and sparse but they were there. For a moment, the dumb rat movie made him feel something. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Kaden cleared his throat and tried to push away any of the strange nostalgia swirling in him, threatening to push its way out. “So you’re telling me the rat made that food?” 

“I think it’s that you do it at all,” Grace admitted as she kept her eyes on the television. The fact that Kaden had taken it upon himself several times to drop something off, even though they had hardly known each other at the time. There was guilt and pity in the hospital, but that subsided quickly. Now all Grace got from him was that he cared, which, to her surprise was genuine. There was no way he’d be able to lie about that and not falter. She had gotten good at figuring out when people were lying, mostly because of their highs and lows, the way they’d feel nervous, then determined. Her Grandma had taught her, too, how to watch out for such a thing. “Do you not like cats?” Grace cast him a glance before she looked down at the patterns on her blanket. Momentarily, Grace forgot about the constant issues between both fish and their feline friends. She let out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. Probably better for Ruthie’s heart rate to keep cats away from him.” Kaden’s offer had a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. The movie descended into a montage of the after effects of the food critic’s arrival. “That’d be cool, sure.” She wasn’t sure how often she’d put anything he’d teach her to use, but he seemed genuine in his offer and she didn’t want to disappoint him. Maybe she’d be able to pay him back somehow, maybe cook something elegant using what he taught her. For a moment, Grace caught the slightest feeling from Kaden-- what had that been? Alert, Grace stared at Kaden, unable to contain her expression from understanding what Kaden had just succumbed to. “You good over there?” She asked, quick to cover up her sudden interest. “Yes, the rat made it.” Grace let out a laugh at his attempt to change the subject, though he had no clue she knew what he was trying to change it from. Grace eyed him carefully before pausing the movie so that she could now focus on she and Kaden’s conversation. “He was a good chef, what did I tell you?” Grace grinned at Kaden before looking at his bowl. “If you want to take some home, you can.” 

“I’ve lived by myself for most of my life, why wouldn’t I be able to take care of myself? Which means cooking. I don’t get why people are surprised.” He sighed. Kaden probably would have to chalk it up to cultural differences or some shit like that. He’d met too many people in town with no know how about cooking to be much else. “I like cats just fine. I was just saying I think the cat is going to like your fish a lot. And less as friends. More as food.” He looked at the poor fish. It didn’t need any more troubles, not looking like that. Swimming had to be hard while unbalanced as it was. The last thing it needed was a cat around to spook it. Or worse. “I’m fine, yeah,” he said, swishing his spoon through the soup. His brows furrowed as he thought about the question. Weird she should ask. He didn’t look off before or anything, did he? “Why wouldn’t I be?” There was no way she could know his thoughts, right? Putain, what if she could read his mind? Oh shit, he had to stop thinking about… things. Anything. How did one stop thinking about things? Putain. He didn’t know how to do that. He caught her eye as she mentioned the movie again. Alright, maybe he was overreacting. “It still seems like a silly movie. But sure. Whatever you say.” By now the soup was gone, the movie was over, and he should probably leave. “Oh. Uh, yeah. I would. But only if you have enough to spare. I don’t want to, uh, I don’t know, put you out I guess? Not sure that’s the word. But, I mean--” He paused, realized he wasn’t making any damn sense anymore and took a breath. “Yes. Let’s just go with yes.”

Grace shrugged, “I think around here, people usually cook to survive off of something, not to give it away or flaunt it.” At least, in her experience that had been the case. She only cooked her grandmother’s oxtail soup when she knew others were in need of it. Otherwise, her meals often consisted of boxed mac ‘n cheese. Not something she was afraid of admitting, but would often get looks sent her way if she did admit it. “That’s fair. I think a rat friend would be better for him.” The last thing she wanted to do was catch a cat with its paw in the tank, though she imagined if she put it up somewhere out of reach, it’d be fine for the most part. Could a fish die from shock? She filed the thought away to look into it later, just in case. Rats, for the most part, were harmless, or so Grace thought. There was a sudden surge of anxiety that rose from Kaden, making Grace’s lips twitch into a frown. Though he was trying to conceal it, it felt heavy in the room. Grace cleared her throat in an attempt to interrupt whatever Kaden was thinking, or feeling. “No, I was just making sure.” She shrugged again before getting off of the couch. Grace folded the blanket and set it to the side. “It’s a silly movie, but it’s a good movie-- they can coincide.” Grace moved towards the fridge when he expressed interest in soup to take home. The silver pot at the bottom of her fridge was still half full. “Don’t worry, it’s not like there isn’t enough-- I can’t eat all this on my own.” She began to ladle some into a to-go container after hefting the pot up onto the counter. On her tippy-toes, she looked over her shoulder. “I’ll send you a few recipes on how to repurpose the broth, too.” She turned back towards the pot, willing herself not to think too much of Kaden’s dip in emotions. 

[notsoharsh]

Stake or be Staked || Harsh & Kaden

Timing: Early November  Location: Strawford Park Participants: @chasseurdeloup and @notsoharsh Summary: Kaden and Harsh take on a few spawn and a bit more. Harsh does an excellent job because he’s a good slayer and no one suspects anything.

Ever since the accident, Kaden couldn’t help but question every little thing around him. It was fucking exhausting. Nothing was more of a relief than remembering there was someone in town who was always easy to be around. Sure, he was a hunter, but Harsh never seemed judgemental. And fuck if the guy wasn’t supportive more often than he had to be. Kaden was pretty sure he didn’t deserve the generosity Harsh was willing to give him, but right now, best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Hey,” he called out as he approached the cemetery, stakes and holy water ready to go. “Not my usual hunting ground but at least one of us has an advantage right?” Guilt rammed through him like the rod that Cordelia had driven through his side. His fucking expertise hadn’t helped Alain. Not to mention, it was the slayer who should be out here in the cemetery hunting spawn. Kaden was only out here because he’d put his fucking friend in the hosptial and Alain couldn’t exactly run his usually patrols in his current condition. Right, not the time. He shook his head slightly to wipe the thoughts away. He had to focus, especially in the field. This was supposed to be light, easy, nothing too intense. What was a few spawn, anyway? “Thanks for meeting me out here. You know, after all this time, I don’t think we’ve managed to get in a hunt together.” He paused to laugh to himself a moment. “I mean, aside from that mime. You know, a real hunt. Look forward to seeing what you’ve got,” he said with a playful nudge. “Slayers first?” He gestured for Harsh to lead the way. 

This was a terrible idea, probably one of the worst Harsh had had in awhile. It was only tied with every other idea he’d had since moving to White Crest. Going on a hunt. To hunt vampires. With a hunter. The list of things that could go wrong was probably longer than Harsh was old. There was probably something wrong with him, other than the obvious. But it was way too late to back out now. Kaden was a friend, somehow. Or something like one. Could someone really be a friend if everything they knew about you except your name was a lie? Or it was supposed to be anyway. Harsh wasn’t supposed to give a shit about hunters. And he didn’t. They were stupid, and awful, and gross, and never attractive at all. Not even a little bit. But there he was. In a stupid graveyard, waiting for a stupid hunter, to fight some stupid spawn. Harsh slapped a smile into place as he raised a hand in greeting. “Good to see you, man. The good stuff’s in the cooler, if you still want some,” he said, nodding to the small white and blue cooler tucked beside the headstone he was leaning against. True to his word, it was stocked full of the nicest beer money could steal. “Yeah, it’s about time. I’ll try not to let you down, stud.” He shot Kaden a wink as he pulled a stake from his jacket pocket, giving it a little twirl. It was far from the first time he’d used one. Maybe he wasn’t a slayer, but he had put down his fair share of spawn before. There were always idiot vampires who bit more than they could chew. “They’re over there,” he said, pointing with the stake toward the far side of the graveyard. “I counted seven earlier, but it feels like there’s more now. Think you can handle it?”

It was nice to have an almost normal evening. Putain, Kaden hated thinking of hunting as normal. Hunting was… He didn’t know what. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it anymore. It was probably stupid for him to be out at all right now but there he was. “The cooler?” His brows furrowed as he looked down and saw, yeah, there it was. “Is that a good idea?” He was used to having plenty of drinks after a hunt. But before…. He was already distracted, plagued by thoughts of bugbears and werewolves and his talks with Morgan and Regan. What it all meant. Did he even like it? Fuck. Maybe it was a better idea to have some liquid courage beforehand. And hey, there were two of them out there. And it was just spawns after all. He flashed a smile and then reached over to pull out a beer. Not before rolling his eyes at the other hunter’s wink. “Yeah yeah, I’m sure you won’t.” He had to say, it was nice how at ease he felt with the slayer. Almost reminded him that this was supposed to be fun, not just a duty or whatever. Wait... was that flirting? No way. He knew that-- Kaden shook it off and took a swig of his beer. “Only seven, huh?” Alright not only. That was a bit of a pain. But two of them, they could manage. He chugged a little more and then wiped his lips with the cuff of his shirt. “Guess we’ll see,” he said as he reached in to grab a stake, setting the half finished beer on the cooler for now. At least spawn weren’t sentient or looked like people ever. They were just mindless monsters. Nothing but killing machines. No moral grey area to be found there. Kill them and be done. Easy. “You got left, I’ve got right?” he asked before heading down to start staking some stupid spawn. 

“Are you telling me you’ve never had a couple cold ones before a good hunt? I don’t think you were doing this whole hunting thing right, man,” Harsh said, giving Kaden a teasing nudge. It probably wasn’t a great idea, Kaden being a lot closer to human than he was. But it was just a couple spawn. What was the worst that could happen? Kaden was supposed to be good at this. Werewolves were probably harder to deal with, Harsh had ended up on the wrong side of a few in his time and it had gotten a little messy a few times. Spawn were mindless husks. He nodded as he started toward the spawn, sauntering between the headstones. “Works for me. I bet I can get more than you.” A little friendly competition couldn’t hurt and Harsh would never turn down an opportunity to brag a little. The spawn were wandering about, the remains of some poor sap they must have just finished eating were strewn about between them. Harsh shifted the stake in his hand, fingers curling tight around the wood as he approached. Vaulting over a headstone, he drove his fist into the face of one snarling spawn. It reeled back for an instant before turning back, baring its fangs. The stake tore into its chest before it got a chance to do anything with them. “That’s one,” Harsh called, grinning at the crumbling dust before looking about. “Alright, who’s next?”

“After, sure. Before? Not usually.” Guess there was a first for everything. Kaden hoped it wasn’t his last. Or Harsh’s last. Anything, really. Had to hope for the best. “You fucking wish,” he shot back. Stake in hand, liquid courage running through his veins, healthy competition to roll with, all nothing but a good time. That was right, hunting could be fun. It had been so long since he felt that way, felt the slight rush as he ran at the spawn ahead of them, grabbing one by the scruff of his neck and yanking it back. It snarled and tried to lunge at him, but Kaden twisted it around easily enough and slammed the stake through its heart. God, the dust was so satisfying. It almost made him wish he was a slayer. Undead didn’t have feelings and shit to contend with. Not like these. Alright, well, Morgan. And Jane. And-- Alright fuck being a slayer. But for right now, he could deal with stupid fucking spawn. “One here, t--” The last word didn’t make it out before he felt something on his back, pulling him down. Shit. Kaden rolled over and tried to throw the thing off of him. Instead he rammed his own body into a headstone. Fuck slaying. Cemeteries were the worst, that was right. Kaden tried to kick himself around, see what he was up against, get the upper hand back, but he felt claws piercing into his shoulder and shouted out in pain. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

In a way, Harsh kind of got it, the whole hunting thing. There was a rush that came with dusting a spawn, there wasn’t anything else like it. Maybe it was a power tripping thing. If he had his soul, maybe he would get a kick out of actually helping people by dealing with these things. He would have to try it… if he ever got his stupid soul back. Actually, with Kaden there, it was the perfect time to go for some teeth. There weren’t as many on his side. Harsh drove his stake into another spawn’s chest before turning, kicking out and catching the leg of another. In an instant, he was on top of it, holding the thrashing husk down with one arm as he grabbed at its jaw. Maybe he could break it, force out a couple teeth before he dusted the fucker. If only it would just stop moving for a second. He almost had a decent grip when Kaden’s voice rang out. Harsh froze. Shit. Maybe this was too many. Kaden wasn’t used to spawn, he couldn’t feel them coming, didn’t know what to look for. But if he could just get those teeth. When was he going to get another chance like this? But… he promised. Cursing, Harsh grabbed the spawn’s head, ripping it from the body. The dust hadn’t even settled before he was throwing himself up and over a headstone. The spawn on Kaden was too busy trying to take a chunk out of his shoulder to do anything about the stake Harsh drove into its back. Grabbing at Kaden, Harsh hauled him up, one hand pressing to his shoulder. “Hey, you good? You’ve gotta stop going all damsel in distress on me, man.”  

Kaden grit his teeth and got ready to kick the spawn off of him when suddenly, his foot flew right through the dust falling on top of him. Huh. Alright. An arm reached out and pulled him up. He grimaced as he felt the pressure on his shoulder, Harsh’s face finally coming into clarity. “I’m not giong fucking damsal on you--” he sait through grit teeth, moving his friend’s hand off his injured shoulder so he could take a look at it himself. It hurt but it wasn’t too bad. He rolled his shoulders back, shook it out, it’d be fine. “I had it covered, clam down,” he reiterated. Part of him wanted to go grab another swig of his beer. Maybe later. He looked across the cemetery, didn’t see much. “Hold on,” he said, putting his hand to pause them both. “There’s something up ahead. I hear a scuffle. Or something. Ready?” he said, turing to his hunting partner, stake in hand. 

“Sure you did, man.” You’re fucking welcome. Harsh bit back the thought. Fine, maybe next time he’d just let Kaden get snacked on. And he had been so close to getting those stupid teeth. There would be more spawn. He didn’t have to get stupid and rush this. At least now Kaden had to think he was a halfway decent slayer. That would get him somewhere. Harsh frowned, listening intently. That was definitely a scuffle up there. But not like this, not just mindless spawn getting dusted. There was one heart beat over there, panicked, going faster and faster. And then quick, careful steps. Calculated. Hungry. Shit. He wasn’t really in the mood for dealing with an actual vampire. But if he didn’t, Kaden would call him on it. Jaw set, he nodded. “Yeah, follow me, stay close.” He moved quickly, ducking between headstones, stopping behind a massive one, peering around the side. Whoever the poor idiot out there was, they had stopped moving, the heartbeat slowing. Fuck. Harsh peeked around the side of the grave. Sure enough, the vampire was going to town on the guy’s neck. He was still alive, but he wouldn’t be for long. 

Turning back to Kaden, Harsh leaned in to whisper. “I’ll get the asshole’s attention. Those graves over there, sneak around behind him.” It was a shit plan, but there wasn’t time for a better one. This whole hunting thing sucked. Harsh didn’t give himself time to think better of it before he stepped out of hiding, stake tucked into his back pocket. He lifted a hand in a casual wave. “Hey man, what’s going on? Are you… are you good over here?” How the hell was he supposed to play this? The vampire looked up at him, more annoyed than anything else. “Fuck off man, I got here first.” Shit. Hopefully Kaden wasn’t listening that closely. Harsh casually sauntered closer. “Listen, I’m going to give you one chance to drop the guy. If you don’t, this doesn’t end well for at least one of us. Count of three, man. One. Two. Three--”

Kaden gave a quick nod and then followed behind, happy to let the slayer take the lead when it came to the undead. The plan seemed a little basic but he wasn’t exactly the slayer in this situation. This wasn’t his terf so he trusted that Harsh had this handled and did as he was told. Kaden crouched and found a spot behind the headstones, eyes narrowed, stake in hand, and listening intently to the conversation. It was strange, Harsh was making conversation with this vampire? Alright. That was a choice. He couldn’t imagine Alain using that method but he wasn’t one to criticize if it worked. Weirder yet, the vampire said something about getting there first. The fuck did that mean? And Harsh was bargaining with it? Putain de merde, what was going on? Kaden didn’t have time to analyze the full scenario, not when the slayer was doing a countdown. That could only mean one thing. On three, Kaden leapt from his hiding spot and lunged at the vampire. He wrapped him into a headlock and held him down. “Now!” he shouted, expecting Harsh to stake the fucker before he had a chance to make any more bullshit deals.

At least Kaden was good at this whole hunting thing, decent enough to pick up on Harsh’s admittedly thrown together plan. The wheels were still spinning. Kaden had to have heard that, all of it. There were going to be questions, but he could deal. He had talked his way out of worse. But talking would have to come after dealing with the vampire. As soon as Kaden moved, Harsh followed. The vampire thrashed in Kaden’s grip, dropping his victim, trying to wrestle free. Harsh caught the poor, unfortunate human, taking a second to get them out of the way before pulling his stake free. Two on one wasn’t exactly fair, but that was slayers for you. Harsh jammed the stake home, watching with surprising satisfaction as the asshole turned to dust, falling away between them. He flashed Kaden a wide grin. “Easy peasy. We should get this guy some help,” he said, looking to the unconscious, would be victim. “I can carry him to the hospital if you wanna call it a night. Thanks for coming out with me, man. I kinda needed to blow off some steam.” 

Kaden was thankful that Harsh worked fast and seemed to follow his thoughts. As soon as the vampire was dust, Kaden leapt down to check on the victim. He put his fingers up to his neck, making sure there was still a pulse. It was slow, but it was steady. He breathed a sigh of relief and placed him on his side, trying to keep him in stasis. “Yeah he needs a hospital. But he should be okay.” It was a little concerning that Harsh wasn’t that occupied with the man in front of them. Even drunk, the victim was Kaden’s first priority now that the monster was defeated. “What was that back there?” he asked as he readied to help Harsh pick up this guy. “Were you making a deal with that vampire back there or what? What kind of tactic was that?” Because that’s what it was, it's what it had to be. A tactic. Right?

Shit, right, caring about people. That was… hard. He could do it with patients well enough, but right now, it took quite a bit of self control for Harsh to not just finish the guy off. Focus, just stay focused. He probably couldn’t eat him even after Kaden left. If the body turned up, Kaden would know something was up. Fuck, this being good thing was always such a pain. He crouched a little so Kaden could help the victim onto his back, making sure to get him secure before straightening up. Oh. Great. That. Shit shit shit. “Do you ever not just run in stake first? Listen man, vampires aren’t always looking for a fight. If you can get them off guard and get in close, that works way better, at least for me. Going on guns blazing is a great way for people to get caught in the crossfire. I wasn’t making a deal, I was just getting him talking long enough for you to get the jump on him. There’s lots of ways to do this, Kaden. What would you’ve done differently? Honest question,” he added on, tone casual, expression even. He should learn. If he was going to play the part, he had to do it well. A couple more slips like that and his whole cover would be blown. 

Kaden’s face twisted up in confusion. He tried to think of past hunts with other slayers. Sure, sometimes they had to get creative, but that was usually against groups or in urban settings. “I guess, but there was a victim and no one else around.” Kaden reached underneath the guy and picked him up, ready to hand him off to Harsh. Or just walk him to the hospital himself. He still wasn’t quite convinced by Harsh’s strategy, but he supposed that the slayer had done this far more often than Kaden had. “I mean, I probably would have just run in. Considering,” he said, looking pointedly down at the man he was carrying. “Doesn’t seem worth the risk to bargain when he was outnumbered and lives were at stake.” Then again, all's well that ends well, right? Supposed there was no point in criticizing. “Guess it doesn’t matter. But you probably shouldn’t head to the hospital alone. You know, if something else is out there. I can carry him, you can run backup. Or vice versa, doesn’t matter. But you probably shouldn’t go it alone.”

“You never know how a vampire’s going to operate. They’re not like spawn. I’ve had some snap victim’s necks just to spite me, or try to throw them on the stake first.” It was easy to throw out stories that were true, well, half true. Who was who might have needed to be switched, but it was better than a complete fabrication. Harsh lifted one shoulder in a little shrug, conscious of not jarring the victim too much. “I guess that’s fair. I don’t know, I’m sort of used to going solo. Sometimes I overthink it, maybe, trying to make sure I’ve got everything covered.” That sounded… sort of true. If there wasn’t so much stupid fresh blood right on his back, maybe it would be easier to focus. He gave Kaden a little smile. “I appreciate it, man. It’s nice having someone to watch my back.”

[detectivedreameater]

This Is Our Get Along Shirt || Kaden and Marley

TIMING: Sometime before Christmas PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: In which two fully grown officers have separate meltdowns while locked in a room together. CONTENT: Head Trauma mentions, Family Death mentions (parental)

Marley had decided she just wanted things to go back to normal. But the doctor wouldn’t approve her for work, and work wouldn’t approve her without the doctor. And so she was stuck. Between doing nothing and doing something that she didn’t want to. And didn’t need to. She was fine, she was doing fine. She didn’t need therapy or check-ups or supervision, or any of that shit. She just needed more time to heal and then she could go back to herself. She just needed time to find herself. And that started with getting back to work, whether anyone actually let her do it legally. She’d heard about some suspicious activity at the local escape room, and by the sounds of it, it seemed right up her alley. Some strange sort of supernatural being had to be behind this. And so she had taken her meds, made sure she had a weapon (they wouldn’t give her back her gun, yet, obviously, until she was cleared for work), and made her way down to the building. She enjoyed the idea of escape rooms, but during the day, when her abilities didn’t work, the claustrophobia of the places often got to her. But she was prepared, this time, for what was waiting inside. Hopefully. What she wasn’t prepared for was Kaden Langley to be inside. Frowning, she paused in the doorway. “Someone lose a puppy inside or something?” she grumbled, pretending to be interested in the pamphlets by the doorway.

The reports coming from the escape room place sounded nothing short of fae bullshit to him. What kind, Kaden couldn’t say. Neither could the owners but they had called about a weird animal showing up in some of the rooms when people were trying to complete the puzzles. Apparently they’d lied to patrons and told them it was all part of the experience. Guess he couldn’t blame them too much, he’d likely do the same. He debated grabbing the iron knives before heading out but he didn’t feel much like digging them out of the back of the closet. It wasn’t like Regan was going to be over anytime soon, a thought that made his heart sink, but he still couldn’t stop lying to himself that she might. He wasn’t ready to unravel any of the small stupid hopes that held him together at the moment. Didn’t mean he didn’t come at all prepared. He had plenty of knives and his gun, of course. He was prepared for whatever was there, brownie or leprechaun or whatever it may be. He was not, however, prepared for the voice he heard behind him. “Stryder?” he said, turning to see her just standing there, flipping through the brochures like she planned on actually participating or something. “Not exactly. What, are you planning your next event here? Celebrating the death of your bear or something?” The jab sent guilt shooting through him like a rod through his side. Pretty sure he hadn’t talked to her since just after all that. But he’d heard about her injuries. “Surprised to see you here and not chained to your desk.”

Marley wasn’t about to go into the details of her leave with Kaden Langley of all people, but the jab at being chained to her desk made her broil. She only wished that were an option, but without medical clearance, they weren’t even going to let her back into the office. No badge, no gun, no nothing. She bristled, breezing by him and up towards the desk. “I already celebrated that. Lots of champagne, some tequila, and a roaring fire,” she said with a roll of her eyes. Really, the only celebration they’d gotten was cutting the damn bear’s head off and dropping it on Roy’s doorstep, and while that used to be enough for her, the damage that he’d caused after made the victory seem pointless. In fact, everything seemed pointless now. Even arguing with Langley. She rang the little bell again but no one answered. “Isn’t there usually someone here? I even called ahead,” she grumbled, more so talking to herself than Kaden. She pushed away from the desk and wandered towards the back. “Hello?” she called out, “Anyone here?” But there was still no answer. She cast one glance back to Kaden before prodding the slightly ajar door in front of her. It said it led to one of the game rooms, but when she opened it, it looked just like an ordinary office. “It’s a weekday, right?” she asked, going over the days in her head as best she could. “Where the hell is everyone…”

Kaden rolled his eyes at Stryder’s comments. Honestly, though, it felt almost nice. This was standard. This made sense. Them bickering? That was normal. And it was very nice to have some small sense of fucking normal right now. Even if she was irritating. But she was also correct. There was no one here. “No fucking clue.” He stood and tried to listen for any sounds, any heartbeats other than theirs. Nothing in the immediate area, but there was a crash. Didn’t need hunter hearing for that one. “Follow or don’t, Stryder. Doesn’t matter to me.” Kaden didn’t look behind him to check on her choice, just walked past the reception desk towards the escape rooms. He wound down the hallway, following the direction of the sounds. Seemed like it was coming from one of the rooms. All the doors were open, there was no one operating the place, should be safe enough to walk in. He took a step inside and tried to pinpoint the source of the crash. It was hard to tell, there were plenty of odd items strewn about, likely puzzles to be solved. None of it made much sense to him. He could tell Stryder was behind him without even glancing back. The footsteps and heartbeat alone would have given it away. “So why are you here anyway? I know why I was called in but I didn’t think--” Kaden didn’t get to finish any sort of explanation. Because the door shut tight behind them. “Putain.”

Marley rolled her eyes at the annoyed sound in Kaden’s voice. She really wasn’t in the mood for dealing with his stupid grumbles and his tendency to mumble. She’d had enough trouble hearing normal speech lately, what with the tinnitus. She chose to follow him, because why not? What else had she come here for? And he led her down a winding hallway into a backroom. Nothing immediately jumped out at her as strange. Not until he was turning to ask her a question and then the door was slamming shut on both of them. “What the--” she started, but was immediately interrupted again when the big timer on the wall churned on and started counting down from one hour. “Did you do that?” she asked incredulously, whirling back to the door and yanking at it. “Oh, fuck this. Fuck this. I am not dealing with this bullshit today,” she growled, lifting her hand to turn herself intangible and-- finding that nothing happened. “What the…?” she blinked, unsure of what this feeling was. Her head pounded and she winced. A note was slid under the door and hit her boot. She stared down at it. Slowly, she picked it up and opened it, holding it out to Kaden after a moment. All it said was: Escape the room. 

“I didn’t do shit!” Kaden shouted back as he watched her rattle the door. The room was never very big, but the longer the door didn’t open, the smaller it felt. He ran over to the other side, to the exit door and tried the handle. Nothing. He slammed into it. It didn’t fucking budge. Fuck. Fucking fuck. It felt like the walls were creeping closer in on them the longer they were stuck in a room together with doors that didn’t fucking open. “There was no one there, right? No one was here to run this. How did we get stuck here? How did this--” He inhaled deep and held his breath, trying to slow his racing heartbeat. He looked over and noticed a note in her hand. “What does it say? What is it? What do we fucking do?” He leaned over her shoulder to get a look. “Escape the fucking room? Are you serious?” Kaden groaned and tried the doors again. “I’m trying to escape the fucking room! Let us out!” The last thing he wanted to do was solve a bunch of shitty puzzles when there was a perfectly functioning door. Two, even. This was bullshit. But nothing changed despite his protests. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to focus on anything other than the fact he was stuck in a room, glancing around to try and take it in. All he saw was how small it was. “Where do we start?”

“Are you done throwing your tantrum?” Marley asked, as she waited for him to finish asking a million and seven questions that she didn’t have the answers to. Finally, he stopped banging on the doors and pacing the room, and she silently thanked the universe for that, because it was making her head spin and her eyes hurt. She pressed the butts of her palms into her eyes for a moment before blinking and looking back up at him. “We start by looking for the first clue. It’ll probably be something that looks strangely out of place.” She glanced around the room they were in-- it was a simulation of a bomb bunker, complete with the fifties get up of retro furniture, canned goods, and a bunny antenna tv. “Maybe like a small decoration that doesn’t fit the style of the furniture, or a picture on the wall that doesn't match.” She started sifting through the magazines on the table, checking under and around it and in the couch cushions, looking at him from the side of her eye. “If you start feeling like it’s getting hard to breathe, just close your eyes and count to ten.” 

Kaden felt his hand ball into a fist by his side. A fucking tantrum? Really? “Sorry for trying to figure out how to get the fuck out of here.” He kicked the door one last time in anger before sighing and looking around the room. Somehow the room looked even smaller than it had a second ago. He was about to shut his eyes when Stryder made a comment that somehow wasn’t even snide. Almost helpful, even. “Right. Uh, thanks.” Kaden wondered if he should try that right off the bat. His heartbeat picked up pace, but not yet. He just had to focus. The problem was he didn’t know what he was supposed to be focusing on. Okay something out of place. Fuck. The room itself was already weird, he didn’t know what was considered in place. His eyes narrowed as he settled his sight on the bookshelf. There were some books pushed in, and some pulled out. “Uh, is this a clue?” he said, pointing it out to her. “That’s weird, right?” He didn’t know what it meant, but it had to be something, right? 

Marley shuffled around the room, picking up trinkets and set decorations to try and decipher if any of them held any significance, but the pounding in her head was only increasing the more she tried to concentrate. She rubbed her palms into her eyes, trying to drown it out or apply enough pressure to make it stop, but it proved mostly pointless. Langley’s voice cut through the ringing in her head and she set down the clock she’d picked up and came over to the bookshelf. “That’s definitely weird,” she said, taking note of which books were pulled out. “They’re labeled oddly, right? That’s not, like...normal for books, to be blank,” she said, plucking one out, squinting at the spine. It had a roman numeral V on it, and nothing else. No title, no author, no nothing. She flipped it open and found that even the pages were empty. “It’s gotta be a numbers puzzle.” But what sort? That was the real question. God, Marley really wished Erin was here with her, and not Langley. Did he even know math? Did hunter school include basic maths? She rubbed her head again, removing her sunglasses to do so, red eyes illuminating against her hand. “What other numbers are on the spines?” 

She pulled out the first book that was set forward on the shelf and Kaden looked over her shoulder as she examined it. Empty. Alright. “Guess there’s no hint inside.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to piece together any of the puzzle. The spine had a V. Was it a letter? Kaden looked back at the shelf to see what the other books were. The book next to the empty space was pushed back. The three next to it were forward. The spines to each were more letters. X, I, and V. His head tilted to look at the next set of pulled out books next to it. M, C, M, L, V. Shit. They were definitely roman numerals. Which, alright, she said that. But he didn’t want to trust her right off the bat. But fine, she was right. “Uh not sure what exact numbers but it looks like…” Kaden pulled up his sleeve, looked at the tattoo on his inner forearm. Yeah. Sure looked familiar. “This is a date. I’m pretty fucking sure.” He looked closer at the letters again, started to convert them. “Five, fourteen. Nineteen, uhh, hold on.” He closed his eyes to try and sus it out. “Fifty-five. So that’s May 14th, 1955. Okay. Uh, what now?” He looked around the room for something that could need a date. “There’s a calendar over there. Might be something, right?”

Marley stayed quiet as he began to decipher the code of the books, grateful in that moment that he wasn’t a complete waste of space. Her head was pounding and concentrating on anything longer than a few seconds only made things worse. “A date?” she asked, looking over at him. But he was right. The numbers could easily be a date. When he peered at his arm, she tried to get a look, wondering just what it was. From the sound of his deduction, it, too, was a date for something. She opted to let it sit for now, heading over to the calendar he pointed out after setting the book back on the shelf. She flipped through the calendar and found the date. “Look,: she said, motioning him over, “there’s a note on the day. ‘Channel 3. 14:00’. That’s…” she glanced back at the television in the middle of the room. “Turn on the TV,” she instructed, moving away from the calendar. 

“Channel 3?” Kaden repeated. “Uh, alright.” He saw the television, that much was easy to find. But there was no remote sitting by it. “Putain de merde,” he grumbled once more. “We’ll have to figure out how to turn it on, I guess.” Sighing, he started to fumble along the monitor, looking for any knobs or buttons to turn on the monitor. There were buttons. He pressed them. And nothing happened. The knobs on the front seemed like set dressing. They didn’t move or do anything at all. Which made sense. What was the likelihood of them finding a working authentic television from the 50s that didn’t require a shitton of maintenance? “Yeah, nothing,” he said, turning to Stryder. “Looks like we have to find the remote.” Glancing around, it felt like the walls were closing in again, like the space had gotten smaller since the last time he checked. His fingers curled around the edge of the table as he tried to stabilize himself and take slower, deeper breaths. What had Stryder said before? Right. He closed his eyes and started counting. The room didn’t look any bigger when he opened his eyes, but at least it didn’t look any smaller. He started checking under the table for anything taped there or something. Nothing. Under the pillow? Well, he found a weird coin and a slip of paper, but no remote. Under the mattress? Nope. This seemed wrong, but he figured why not and checked in the fridge. Some bottles and fake food sat there. At least he hoped it was fake. But no remote. The freezer, however, proved different. “Well. Found it. I guess. Let’s see what happens.” He turned and faced the television and powered it on and then hit the 3 button. “What now?” he asked. 

Marley was growing more weary by the second. First they needed to find a code, now they needed a remote, but the remote was missing. And now the channel had nothing on it except static. She sunk down onto the prop couch that was in the middle of the room and put her head in her hands. “Just give me a minute,” she muttered, scrubbing her face with her palms as she listened to the static. It almost seemed rhythmic, like a beat. Or-- “Morse code,” she said, sitting up after a second. She looked over at Kaden. “Hand me a pen and some paper,” she waved, glancing around her spot to see if there was anything to write on in front of her. Just some old magazines. Well, they’d do well enough. When she was handed a pen, she began writing down the code she thought she recognized. And after a moment, it circled back. She filled in the letters and looked back up at him. “Guess we gotta make a word outta this now. We’ve got...Y, L, S, L, O, E, C, D, O, W, N.” Paused, contorting her face as she looked at the words. “Down lose yell? No… Slow dec-- no. Loss soc-- fuck!” She slammed her fist on the table before grabbing her head again. It was pounding and she couldn’t concentrate. She took her glasses off and rubbed her palms into her eyes again, trying to make the throbbing stop. “This is so fucking stupid. Can’t you just break the door down? Put that superstrength of yours to use or something! I’m sick of being here!”

Kaden was ready to give up. The whole thing just felt never fucking ending. And there was no clue to be-- Shit. Stryder was better than he gave her credit for. He nodded and found a pen and threw it into her hand. His arms folded across his chest, he planned to wait for her to figure out the rest of the message. She got the letters no problem, but she appeared to be struggling and the creases in his forehead grew deeper as he watched her flounder. “I’m not destroying private property after we technically fucking snuck in here!” he snapped back at her. “The fuck is wrong with you, Stryder? I thought you were supposed to be smarter than me.” He sighed and pulled the paper closer, looking down at the scribbled letters. Putain. Without any context, the letters came together in strange ways. Three languages overlapped in his mind, trying to fight for attention. Alright, English, it was definitely going to be in English given where they were. Pretty quickly, he saw the word “yell” and wrote that below. He tried “yell down” and that wasn’t right. He scrunched up his face and tried again. After another pause, he tried “yellow.” Hmm, maybe that wasn’t-- “Yellow second?” he said out loud. “Or ‘second yellow,’ maybe.” 

Kaden tried to look around the room for anything that it might apply to. Interesting. Near the door was a panel of buttons laid out in a grid. There were colors down the column and numbers across the row. Four numbers and four colors, a button on each grid. One of those colors was yellow. “Second yellow?” he repeated. “Alright, worth a shot.” He hit the button in the yellow row and the second column from the right. Only… nothing happened. “Putain.” What the fuck else did the note mean then? “This has to be it. No.” He wanted to punch the button panel but thought better of it and dropped his balled fist to his side. Second yellow. Fucking hell. What did that mean if it wasn’t the second column? Then he saw the colon in between the second and third number. Wait a sec-- “Putain!” he shouted, excited this time, and hit the buttons in the yellow row and the third and fourth columns. The door creaked open. “Got it! I got i--” His excitement dissipated as he stepped through the door only to see… more fucking puzzles. Kaden groaned and leaned his back against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor, head in his hands. Fuck. This.

Marley stayed where she was while Langley parsed through the clue. She felt a rather large wave of annoyance, too, when he actually figured out the clue. She opted to not respond to his questions, they weren't relevant. There was a lot wrong with her, and she didn’t feel like spilling her guts out to Paw Patrol the Hunter. He’d probably just say that everyone’s lives would’ve just been better off if she were dead, anyway, and she didn’t need anyone else telling her that. Her own admission was enough. The change of tone in his voice got her to look up, however, and she jumped to her feet fast enough to cause the world to tilt sideways, stumbling as she headed over. The door swung open, they were almost free--

But beyond it stretched another room. With more puzzles. Marley was frozen in her spot for a moment, staring wide-eyed into the room. This couldn’t be possible. Escape rooms were just one room, usually. This wasn’t possible. This shouldn’t be here. Hadn’t this been the door they’d walked in? Wasn’t there a hallway beyond this? Marley turned back around, shutting the door, then reopening it. It was still the other room. She tried again, holding it closed for longer this time. Still the same. One more time and a click! Sounded and surely that meant that whatever was behind the door had changed, but this time the knob would not turn. She rattled it harder and harder until she felt her hand pulsing with pain and she kicked the door with the heel of her boot before storming off. “God dammit!” she howled, kicking something else. “What the fuck is wrong with this place?” She looked up at the ceiling. “Let us OUT YOU ASSHOLE!” But when no answer came and nothing changed again, she collapsed to the floor next to what looked like an incubator and put her head in her hands as well. “Fuck this,” she muttered. “Now what?”

Kaden sat there, kept his head held in his hands, pressed his fingers into his temples as he tried to push away the harsh clanging ringing in his ears as Marley kicked and trashed around the room. Loud, it was all too loud. And they were stuck and he could feel the walls closing in and he just wanted to curl up into a ball and wait this out, wait until he had space to move and breathe again. “Now who’s throwing a fucking tantrum?” he grumbled. He waited there a moment longer, not wanting to face another round of puzzles. This wasn’t his strong suit, not at all what he was suited to. There was a damn good reason he had no ambitions to be a detective. And of fucking course Stryder wasn’t on her A-game right now. Just their fucking luck. “We should look around or something. Or you should. Be a fucking detective or some shit.” He rubbed his face with his palms. They hadn’t been there that long, had they? It felt like it had been hours. He was tempted to curl up and just sleep, wait until someone let them out. Someone had to come here, right? “Unless there’s some fucking reason you forgot how to do that and want to announce Paw Patrol is the smartest person in the room right now. Which I fucking hope isn’t true for our sakes.”

“I’m allowed to be angry!” Marley shouted back at him, resisting the very present urge to grab whatever was in front of her and throw it at him. But she knew that wouldn’t do anything except piss him off and she was sure if he got angry enough, felt threatened enough, he would probably just stab her with one of his seven-hundred knives he kept on himself at all times. “I’m not on desk duty at work because I like it, Langley! Some stupid fucking asshole took something important away from me and now I can’t even think straight! So I’m allowed to be angry! What’s your excuse?” But somewhere deep down, she knew he was right. Through the splitting headache and speckled vision, she knew he was right. So she got up and she started digging around the room. She wasn’t even sure what half of this stuff was until she came upon a navigation console. “We’re in a submarine bridge,” she said stiffly, hand brushing over the compass. “The compass isn’t pointing North.” That had to mean something. It was pointing at-- “The porthole.” She went over and glanced through but...nothing. She stepped back, looked from the telescope to the compass. Maybe...She unlocked the hinge and moved it to point the direction the compass was and-- “A number. Memorize these numbers. 32. 24. 137.”

Her anger did nothing but fuel his, like gasoline to the fire. “I’m stuck here with you! That’s why I’m angry! I should just kill you and be done and be a fucking hunter but instead we’re solving fucking puzzles in a cursed escape room!” The words left Kaden’s lips before he could give them a second fucking thought. They hung in the air a moment, the silence ringing through the room. He wasn’t sure where the shame stinging at him was coming from, his failed sense of duty or whatever bullshit morals he was wrestling with. He sat with his head in his hands a while longer after she stood up. Let her figure out something for once. Thankfully, she did. He sighed and tried to commit the numbers to memory. “32. 24. 137. Great.” What the fuck did that mean? He stood and half heartedly looked around the room. There were a lot of buttons and levers. Some colorful flags on the wall. He looked at the station that seemed like the navigation area and there was a book. He flipped through it a bit and didn’t see anything in particular. It looked like some kind of emergency manual. But there were page numbers. “There’s a book or something over here. I don’t know. Emergency manual or something.” 

Then do it, she wanted to shout at him. Then fucking do it. But she held her tongue and went back about her business. Marley didn’t know what was bothering him, but he didn’t owe her an answer and she didn’t owe him one. They owed each other nothing. Finally, he got up and started doing something, and she shifted, watching him from the corner of her eye, trying to not let the fear tangle her up too much. But it was always there around him, and it always would be. He was a hunter, and he’d said it himself-- he would kill her, should kill her, if given the opportunity. When he declared he’d found a book, Marley cautiously walked towards him, keeping a short distance. “Lemme see it,” she held out her hand, and waited for him to hand it over, before flipping through the pages slowly. After a long moment, she muttered, “Why haven’t you yet?” Looked up over the book at him, red eyes aflame in the dark bunker. “Tried to kill me.”

Kaden could practically feel the space between them like it was a third party in the room as Stryder sood off to his side, a step farther back than most might. There was no reason for it to be anything other than expected. So why did the tension he created make him want to throw something? He was a hunter. He was supposed to be the thing monsters feared at night. He used to be damn proud of that fact, too. In the spot once filled with pride was a dull thud of nothing. “Fine,” he said, handing her the book. He crossed his arms, watching as she found her way through the book. He expected her to bark off some order to him and his brows knit together when she posed a question instead. “I don’t know,” he spat back, far too fast. He bit the inside of his mouth and avoided contact with her red eyes. Even if they had been human, he was sure there would have been full of fire in their own right. “Can’t. Too messy. Killing a detective.” Right. That sounded like bullshit even to his ears as it left his lips. He reached up to rub the back of his neck and acted like he was looking around for clues and not trying to escape the question even more than the room they were in. His stomach churned at the question in a way he didn’t anticipate. It wasn’t that he liked Stryder, far from it. But there was certainly benefit to having a detective on staff in know of the supernatural. Was she good, though? Had she killed? He didn’t know and he didn’t ask. She’d been disgusted by Lydia but that was a low bar, right? Well, not for the supernatural. According to the codes he grew up with, at least. “Look, I just haven’t alright. Don’t give me a fucking reason to want to. Find the stupid answer to this stupid puzzle so we can get out of here.”

Marley watched him closely-- the way he snapped back too quickly, the way he rubbed his head, the way he turned away from her, pretending to look for clues. Even in her state, she could recognize those signs. Suddenly, getting out of this room didn’t seem like the most important thing. She’d already put together the book page pattern but set the notes aside for now and squinted at him. “You’re having second thoughts, aren’t you?” she asked, taking a step closer now, suddenly not so afraid of him. Still kept a tentative distance, one she was sure she could stop him from with her gaze if he did decide to try something. “Oh, c’mon,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes, “I’ve given you plenty of fucking reasons to kill me. And believe me when I say I remember all those times you fucking sign off on me once the hard questions start. You ever figure any of those out? Or are you still pretending you have some moral high ground on us because you got lucky and were born human with superpowers?” She threw the book back at him. “The code is page numbers, dumbass. Figure it out yourself.” And she stormed to the other side of the room, where the only seat was, and plopped down, arms folded across her chest. 

“Second thoughts?” Kaden started, rolling the words off his tongue to find time to figure out a comeback. “You’re right. I am having second thoughts. About stepping into this fucking building. I should have turned around and left the second I saw your fucking face!” He hated her. He hated her weird need to dig right under his skin. What was she even hoping to drag out? What the fuck did she want from him? He planned to stay stoic and avoid her questioning. But he couldn’t. “Lucky?” Kaden said, fingers digging into the book as he caught it. “You think I’m fucking lucky?” He had half a mind to throw it back at her with all his fucking strength. “Right. I’m lucky. I was born with a guaranteed short fucking life that’s nothing but pain. I’m lucky I didn’t get a childhood. I’m fucking lucky that monsters killed my parents. Really a goddamn fountain of luck.” His knuckles were white and he was so close to chucking that fucking book. Instead, he slammed it onto the counter with a thud that wasn’t satisfying enough. Not even close. “I don’t get to be fucking normal, either,” he hissed as he turned his back to her and started flipping through the pages. His fingers fumbled with anger and he kept going past the pages he needed. He wanted to fucking scream. Eventually he found pages 32, 24, and 137. Each one had a few letters. “T O R,” he read out from one page. “P E.” The next. “D O.”  Kaden slammed the book shut. He had no idea what to do next, but he knew the word in question  was “Torpedo.”

“Oh, woe is the hunter,” Marley spat, grimacing, “who lost his childhood and life because his family was a bunch of murderers. Were they killed by monsters or people just trying to defend themselves? Because you hunters think we’re all just fucking monsters, no matter what we do. We could be goddam nobel peace prize winners who haven’t harmed a single fucking person in our lives and you’d still call us monsters and justify slitting our throats. What? Are you seeing the other side of it, finally? Is that it? Is your girlfriend showing you that maybe-- just maybe-- we’re people, too? Weird how that works, huh?” She stayed sitting, wondering if the book was coming back her direction. She knew she could easily avoid it if she wanted to, even if her powers weren’t working quite right she knew she could turn invisible long enough to avoid a book to the face. But it never did. She flinched when the book slammed down. “We all have fucking sob stories, Kaden,” she said, her voice low now, “that’s just this fucked up world we live in. How many people do you think tell stories about how some hunter killed their parents? Or their family? Or their friends? Monsters may have killed you parents, but what about the parents of monsters you’ve killed? What do you think they call you when they talk about it?” 

“Shut up!” Kaden shouted, spinning on his heel to face her. “Just shut up! Don’t fucking talk about my parents like that. They were fucking slaughtered so fuck you I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for any of it and you are the last person on the goddamn planet I want to talk about this with.” His voice raised in volume and he found himself stepping closer and closer to her. “Don’t fucking talk about me or Regan or my fucking parents. You don’t know me or anything about me so shut. Up.” His breathing was heavy through his nose as he clenched his jaw, hands balled into fists as he loomed over her, seething and full of rage and stuck in this goddamn place. He didn’t know what he thought anymore or where he stood but he knew he didn’t want to agree with Stryder and he didn’t want her goddamn superiority. Not for a single fucking second. And yet, he didn’t reach out to hit her nor did he reach for his knife to cut her. He was trapped in a room with a monster and all he could fucking do was shout at her to shut up. He thought about at least kicking the stool out from under her. Instead he he turned and kicked the fucking door one more time. No change. “‘Torpedo.’ Figure out what to do with that.”

“And you think I asked to be like this? You think any of us did?” Marley countered, throwing her arms out now. “We don’t get a choice, just like you didn’t! I get that some of us are shitty, and they prey on humans and other weaker species-- but we’re not all like that! And why the hell do you even think I’m a fucking detective!? I can do something about the cases that would normally go cold. The precinct at large might not be able to arrest supernaturals, but I can do something about them. Christ, do you really think you’re the only person that’s ever suffered? At least you got fucking parents.” Her voice was nearly a snarl as she looked up at him. Would he hit her? She would let him, maybe it would prove something to him, or to her, or to someone. But he didn’t. He kicked the door instead. Torpedo. Marley lifted herself from her chair and went over to the console. She pushed the button for the Torpedo and behind them, a keypad dropped down, labeled only with maritime flags. Groaning, Marley went over to the panel. “You ever consider the idea that this shit isn’t black and white, Langely?” she grumbled, too tired to yell anymore. Her head was pounding and she couldn’t quite see straight anymore. “That maybe not all supernaturals deserve to die?”

Kaden kept his back turned as he took in what she’d said. He really wanted to ignore it. Let it go in one ear and out the other but it settled in his mind in a way that made his skin crawl. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was a werewolf in the room with him and not a mara. A mara. Still a monster. Even she said as much. Was it fucked up to wish he could go back to who he used to be? The person who would have just turned around and killed her long ago? Probably. He hated that it even occurred to him that it was fucked up at all. It made things hard. And complicated. This shouldn’t be complicated. “Why do you care what I think or don’t think?” he grumbled back. A stupid question. He knew it the second it left his lips. She cared because it was her life. The same reason he cared who was a monster. It was his life. Maybe others’ lives, too. But he didn’t give a shit about their morals before. It didn’t matter. A monster was a monster. He figured that was how they saw hunters, too. As wrong as that was. As much as he didn’t want to be wrong. It meant too much to be wrong. Hell, it cost too much. And this stupid fucking escape room that he was stuck in with Stryder of all people was not the place where he was about to admit he was wrong. “Well, detective,” he said, the word laced with bitterness, “if you come up with a better solution to deal with the supernatural have the fuck at it. Can’t wait. Because all of you like to preach just kill the ‘bad ones’ or some shit but what the fuck does that even mean? You want to draw that line in the fucking sand, be my goddamn guest.” He ground his teeth together a moment before looking at the flags closer. He squinted and tried to figure out what they were, what they were supposed to do with them. “These are letters or some shit, right? That’s what they represent? I think.” 

“The line, Paw patrol,” Marley snarled back, “is maybe ask questions first, stab later. It’s really not that hard. Humans get a chance to defend their innocence, why the fuck don’t we? Do you know how many times hunters looked me in the eyes and decided I should be dead without so much as a word edgewise? Did you know I was twelve the first time I met a hunter and he looked at me and saw I was a child and still tried to kill me? Do you know how fucked up that is? Do you know what that does to a fucking child? The difference here is that I didn’t seek out that danger. You people purposefully hunt us down and kill us and then point and say we’re the monsters. Well, pot meet kettle-- maybe we’re all just fucking monsters. Maybe we all just deserve to die.” This really was a two-sided battle that had no answer. She understood that somewhere, but her disdain for what hunters had done to her left her sour. She looked at the flags-- maritime code was not something she knew off the top of her head, but her phone had no service in this dingey building. She went back over to find the manual and picked it back up, flipping to the code sheet in the back. Dropped it in front of him at the code console. “Plug in the fucking letters so we can get the fuck out of here finally.” And she really did hope with all hope that when the door opened, there wouldn’t be another room behind it. She was sure that if there was, the two would simply kill each other.

“Oh right, I’ll keep that in mind next time a werewolf is trying to tear my head off. Plenty of time for an investigation then, of course. I’ll just sit idly by, make sure he does in fact plan to kill the closest humans and then act.” Kaden knew damn well it wasn’t what she was arguing. He also knew damn well that had he been in Celeste’s position with Ariana all those years ago, he could never bring himself to kill a child. That was one line, at least. “Sorry,” he mumbled, still not meeting her eyes. “Not that I-- I just mean-- when you were a kid…” This was stupid. He didn’t give a shit about Stryder the same way she didn’t give a shit about him. And the sooner this conversation was over, the better. The sooner they fucking got out of here, the better. He nodded and looked at the page and typed in the code scribbled in the bottom of the page, matching the letters to the corresponding flags. “A B O R T.” Of fucking course it was that simple when it was laid out like that. He sighed and hit the “T” flag and heard a click behind them. He spun to face the door and saw it subtly swing open. “Thank god,” he said as he practically threw himself out of the room. 

“You ever think about how maybe you wouldn’t be in that situation if you just fucking didn’t go looking for it!?” Marley snapped back. “Weird how that works!” Threw her arms up. “Oh, you’re sorry. Well I’m glad one fucking hunter is.” But honestly, she was. No one had ever apologized for that to her. She could still remember the look in the hunter’s eyes and she didn’t even know why. She hadn't known what she was back then. She turned away from him and waited for the door to open with bated breath. And when it did, it led out into a hallway. Freedom. She stepped out behind him and slammed the door shut, stomping to the front. But there was no one to yell at and she didn’t exactly feel like waiting around this place, lest they get trapped again. But as she went to head for the door, something gave her pause. She stopped just shy of it and turned to look back at Kaden. “You could be a good person, you know,” she said, “It’s obvious you care about some supernaturals. And maybe I don’t know hunter law or whatever, but I think having a fucking heart ought to be an okay thing to do.” Before she pushed her way out into the fresh air and left all of that-- well, most of it-- behind.

[honeysmokedham]

An Unbearable Situation || Kaden & Nora

TIMING:  April 22nd, 2023 @ 3:15 pm           PARTIES: Kaden @chasseurdeloup & Nora @honeysmokedham LOCATION: Latte to Love SUMMARY: A public scene at the coffee shop leads Nora to reenact it with the strange man she just met. He doesn’t enjoy it.  CONTENT WARNINGS : infidelity tw 

A Latte to Love. The name of this cafe might be atrocious but Kaden had to admit, the place itself wasn’t terrible. If nothing else, it was a space away from the cabin, a place where he could finally find a peaceful moment. Sitting in the back of the cafe, his small, leatherbound notebook was sprawled on the table next to his double espresso. The blank page staring back at him was too open, too many possibilities. He tapped his pencil on the edge of the table, trying to shake words out of it or thoughts from his head. If he was throwing away the Langley family hunter codes, and he was, he had to replace it with something. It was the what that was the problem. Maybe he should start by writing down the old codes and go from there. Leaning over the table, he started scribbling the phrases he’d memorized since he was kid, didn’t have to waste time thinking about them. Before he could even get to the third tenet, there was a loud crash. In the front of the store, there was a shattered mug on the ground, a cafe latte spreading across the laminate. Some woman was standing up and yelling at the guy seated across from her. So much for a quiet moment.

Nora had magically gotten ahold of ten dollars in a manner she would never admit to if questioned by the law. Instead of doing something reasonable with the dollars, she decided to get a nice little warm hot chocolate paired with a ham and cheese bagel. Just as Nora was walking away from the counter with her spoils, she heard a commotion. A woman was yelling, her face turning red with the effort of her screeches. Intriguing. Nora’s original plan was to take her treats back to the crypt, but now she couldn’t leave. Her eyes scanned A Latte to Love for a place to sit. Not many  places were open, but there was a man sitting with a notebook. Maybe he was an artist and she could pull out her own notepad and look like she just needed a place to draw. Nora sat across from him, placing her items down before digging her notepad out of one of her pockets and placing it open. “WITH AMANDA? MY BEST FRIEND AMANDA?” The woman’s screams were mostly intelligible, but that came across loud and clear. Nora started sketching this violent woman, full of female rage. Maybe she would get to witness her first murder today. “Nice music they’re playing today.” Nora mumbled to the man across from her. To be polite. She did just take a seat with him, without asking. 

Maybe it was time to leave already. Kaden sighed; he really didn’t want to, not yet. But if this was how it was going to be, there was no way he was getting shit done. Before he could move, someone else slid into the seat across from him. His brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the kid in front of him. She didn’t miss a beat pulling out her own notebook and starting to scribble in it herself. Alright, if she was just going to sit there minding her own business, he wasn’t going to say anything. The place was crowded, it made sense enough. Not like anyone was sitting there. And as long as she was quieter than Amanda’s friend over there. His pencil had just touched the paper again when she spoke. Kaden looked up and raised a brow. Music? If there was music, he couldn’t hear it over the screaming. “Yeah, surprised you can even tell–” Oh. He huffed out a small laugh as the man shouted back.

“It’s not like that, honey, I promise! Just calm down.” 

Kaden was far from an expert at relationships but even he knew the guy had just shoved his foot directly into his mouth. “It’s unique alright,” he said, revising his answer. He tapped his pencil against paper some more. He should keep writing. But had to admit, it was hard to keep his eyes off the scene going on across the way.

Fear started to drift from the man in the situation as he became increasingly aware that he wasn’t about to gatekeep, girlboss, gaslight his way out of this situation. Nora took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of eucalyptus oil and wood smoke. Nora's eyes darted to the couple, racing between them with each passing word. No thoughts about the impropriety of blatantly staring at an arguing couple crossed her mind. Instead, she gawked at their free and open entertainment. Every now and then Nora would look away to add something to the sketch of them she was making.

"You told me you loved me!" Nora enjoyed the timber of her voice. The shrillness of the tonal voice only used in distressing situations accompanied by the breathy weave of her bearly keeping it together. That was the kind of voice she liked to hear when scaring humans. It was odd watching it utilized in this context, a reminder of the multifacetedness of humans. She'd encountered a human recently that made her wonder more about them. Recently she'd found herself judging herself less for being a monster, and instead studying humans more to know more about them as people and not just potential food sources.

Nora turned to the man sitting across from her. "Would you react like this if someone cheated on you?" The woman was storming out of the store now. Nora held up a finger to single to her table mate that she would be right back. The man was standing up ready to follow. His mouth was babbling words such as 'Babe please, it'll never happen again.' and 'Don't leave me you're the only one for me.' Nora wondered if that was true, why did he cheat in the first place? Nora ripped the drawing of the two breaking up out of her sketch pad and intercepted the man following his beloved out the door. "So you can remember this day." She handed him the art. The man looked at it, crumpled it, and threw it to the ground.

"You're some sick freak for that. You think this is a fucking joke?" He hissed at her, before storming away. 

Nora watched the man go, her face void of emotion. After the door slammed behind him, she picked up the paper and returned to her seat. "I don't know how I'd react if someone cheated on me." No one would ever cheat on her. As a monster she was unlovable. 

Relationships were made for those who people could stomach being around. 

The couple only seemed to get louder and, for the moment, Kaden had given up trying to write, deciding to watch the finale of the train wreck instead. He almost forgot about the girl sitting across from him until she spoke again. His head tilted a little to the right at her question. Weird question to ask out of nowhere to a perfect stranger, even given the situation. Was this how small talk worked in America? As soon as he opened his mouth to answer, the girl held up her hand and walked off towards the couple – well, the guy, at least. 

He squinted trying to see what she was doing. Handing him a paper? Wait, no, not a paper, the drawing she made. “Putain de merde,” he muttered to himself. He couldn’t tell if she was being gutsy or a brat or something else entirely. Or maybe sincere? It’s not like he could read it on her face one way or another. She had a poker face like he’d never seen. “All I know is I wouldn’t do it publicly, however the hell I reacted.” Then again, he imagined there was probably something cathartic about embarrassing the person who cheated on you. “Sounds like he fucked up.” Kaden knew he shouldn’t pass too harsh a judgment – there had been an incident or two where hook-ups thought they were something more and thought Kaden was cheating on them. No one ever blew up quite like that, thankfully. “Why’d you give him the drawing?”

"I thought he might want to remember the worst day of his life." Nora flattened out the crumpled drawing and shoved it in the notebook. It would flatten out a bit eventually. "Maybe it would have been a good reminder of the choices he made." Nora flipped to a new page. "Why privately? Don't you want everyone to witness your shame?" As stupid as the question was, coming from Nora it was sincere. Nora was a child of the internet. Her childhood had been publicized by her fathers. Their lives were shared with the world. The people she knew were constantly using their lives as content. Didn't humans want to be public figures and have everyone care about their heartbreak so other people would send them tiny red heart emojis, sob emojis, and say you're in their thoughts and prayers? Maybe people would start a hate group for the partner in the wrong. Those were all normal human wants, right?

Nora started drawing the man across from her. "Is that your shopping list? You might want to add ham to it." Nora mumbled, drawing his pad of paper in front of him. Nora kept going. "Have you been cheated on? Is that how you know you'd deal with it in private? Or did you do the cheating and admit to it in private so you wouldn't get canceled?" This seemed like a small town despite the number of people who supposedly lived in it. Supposedly, because Nora seemed to only see the same fifty people over and over again.

“Yeah, pretty sure he doesn’t need help there. I have a feeling she’s going to make sure he remembers,” Kaden said, tapping his pencil against the side of his notebook again. He sure didn’t need any help remembering the worst day of his life. The memory of the knife slicing through skin and blood splattering onto the– He pinched his eyes shut for a second, forcing the thoughts out of his mind. Shit all he could do about that now. 

He was almost thankful for more of her invasive questions. Almost. “You’re kidding, right?” he asked, brow raised. “Why the hell would I want everyone to witness my shame? I don’t need everyone in town knowing my business.” The thought alone sounded like a nightmare. 

Instinctively, he pulled the notebook a little closer to him, lest she peek over and look at the few scribbles he managed. “No, it’s not,” was all the explanation he planned on giving her. He was determined to get back to his hunters codes as more questions came. “Canceled? The hell does that mean? Like a fucking subscription or something? Putain de merde.” He rubbed his hand across his face, unsure why he was still there entertaining any of this. Kaden glanced over to the spot where the couple had been only to see that the table was already taken. Not an empty seat in sight. Merde. “No I have not cheated on anyone and no one cheated on me.” Couldn’t be cheated on if you never committed to a relationship. Made it hard to cheat, too. With his hunting, there was no way he could just settle down with someone as far as he was concerned. Unless they were a hunter themselves and that opened up a whole other set of problems that Kaden didn’t want to deal with. Damien’s face shot into his thoughts and Kaden snapped his attention back to the paper in front of him, forcing himself to focus on the task in front of him. Just had to focus. Only there were no words coming to him, only nagging thoughts about the whole conversation. “Why do you care, anyway?”

Nora crossed her legs in the chair, wondering what it meant that he didn’t want to have his private information be public curiosity. For Nora’s whole life, apart from the two years she spent walking around America alone and often as a bear, she had been surrounded by influencers who spent their every waking moment influencing. ‘Why the hell would I want everyone to witness my shame?’ Nora looked away, her eyes ending up on the window and looking out there. Many people had witnessed her shame. Then they'd witnessed her public disappearance. It just seemed like the thing people did, witnessing everything and leaving it for public speculation. Nora gave a minute shrug. “For the clout.” She responded. That’s what fame was for. The clout. 

The man moved the notebook away from Nora, making sure she couldn't see it. That was weird that he was so private he couldn't even let his grocery list be seen. Nora wasn't going to push it. She was very respectful like that. "Cancelled. As in told by millions of people that your life isn't worth anything and you can never come back from a mistake you've made so you might as well kill yourself." Nora took a sip of her drink. The man had gone on to answer all these private questions about himself. What did that mean that he was against being a public spectacle, but he would share his information so easily? There were no deferring of questions, or changing of subjects. Just the answers. "I don't care," Nora answered. "I'm making polite conversation." Nora took another sip of her drink. "Would you cheat on someone if given the perfect opportunity to get away with it?" 

The more she talked, the less sense she made. “Clout?” Kaden repeated. Saying it aloud didn’t help him any. Clout. Sounded like a clot mixed with a cult. Neither of those were particularly appealing. “Putain, I still don’t get it.” He couldn’t tell anymore if this was an American thing or a young people thing. Or both. It sounded ridiculous regardless.

Her explanation on ‘canceling’ only amplified his confusion.  “What the fuck?” Kaden tried to wrap his head around it again. “Millions of people give a shit about someone’s personal life? Where are these fucking people? Why don’t they mind their own goddamn business?” None of this made any fucking sense. He had half a mind to get up and leave and never socialize with anyone ever again. Instead, he sat his notebook and pencil down to rub his temples. “I don’t know if I would call this polite conversation,” he said, grumbling to himself. “No, I wouldn’t. Because if I bother with a fucking relationship, there’s no reason to go running off with someone else.” Why was he even answering her and entertaining this? There was no reason to. And yet, there he was. “What about you? Would you do it? For the clout or whatever the hell it is?” Kaden didn’t know if his question even made sense. But maybe it would get her to stop digging into his business and he could go back to what he planned to do the whole time. 

The more the man talked, the more it became clear to Nora that he wasn't molded by the internet. Confusion radiated off his every word every time she mentioned something that was basic internet culture. Nora had once read the term ‘seething with jealousy’. That must have been the emotion she was currently feeling, because she wanted to be the man across from her who didn’t understand what clout and cancel culture were. It must be nice for people not to care. To live as a singular. No eyes on him at all times, judging his every move and post and demanding explanations for the simplest of actions. Did he even know how lucky he was? And he was asking why people wanted it. Nora wanted to know the same thing, yet most of her classmates had listed influencers as the thing they wanted to do most. It was probably nice where this man was from. His accent suggested he wasn't from America, but Nora didn't know if he was Canadian or French. 

The man claimed he wouldn't cheat on a partner. Nora agreed with the statement he made, what was the point of being in a relationship if you were just going to run off with someone else. Nora had often wondered about that while watching movies. Cheating seemed like a common plot device, and a lot of the times the cheaters would turn around and say “It was a mistake.” How was it a mistake to sleep with someone that wasn’t your significant other? What was the emotional turmoil of living through that specific situation like? It was her turn to figure out this mystery. Nora started packing away her supplies. "I wouldn't cheat on anyone." Once again, no one could ever love a monster. Cheating was off the table. However, Nora knew deep in her soul that if someone ever did love her she would cherish them more than anyone in the world. Cheating was not cherishing. Nora got to her feet, placing her sketchpad in her pocket. "How could you?" Her voice raised to a pitch and volume she generally wasn't comfortable using, however, the show must go on. "I trusted you!" Illusionary tears started to slowly drop down her cheeks. 

 Heads were starting to turn to them, and a voice from the crowd drifted toward her ears. 'Another one?' the owner said. Yes. Another one because Nora wanted to know what this experience would be like. "YOU TOLD ME YOU LOVED ME, AND SO YOU CHEATED ON ME?" There was a lot wrong with this scene that Nora chose to ignore. The first was the scratch of her vocal cords as she strained her voice. The second was this stranger, whose name she didn't even know, who looked like he had to be twenty years older than her. The third was that all of this was a lie. Once again, Nora thought to herself, the show must go on. "I LOVED YOU. I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING." Nora, in a stroke of inspiration, mimicked every movie she'd ever seen. Nora tossed her drink at the guy. Good thing it was a cold brew. 

“How could I what?” Kaden asked, brows furrowed and forehead creased in deep confusion. She was standing. And yelling. In front of the whole cafe. He was wrong before. So wrong. It had been polite conversation. He wanted to take back what he’d said. He wanted the polite conversation back. Putain de merde, he’d answer fifty more invasive questions rather than deal with this shit. “Hey, no, I never–” Trusted him? Fucking hell. Heads were turning to face them and he could feel his cheeks getting warmer. This was his fucking nightmare.

Another one? he heard someone ask. “No, it’s not. I just met her today. This isn’t–” Her screaming drowned out anything he was trying to say. If the whole cafe wasn’t watching before, they sure the hell were now. This couldn’t get any worse.

Then it got worse.

“Woah, wait, loved you?!” he shouted back as he stood up, hands up in defense. “I don’t even know your name not to mention you’re a–” It didn’t matter, she was continuing this performance no matter what he said or did. Fuck this, he was going to pack up and walk away before she could do anything wo–

“Putain de merde!” he yelled as the cold coffee splashed all over him. Goddamn mother fucking bullshit. He tried to wipe his face off but he was soaked. Coffee was just dripping on to the floor and the seat and the table and his– 

Kaden looked down to see his journal, the white paper now brown and wrinkling, covered in iced coffee. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” All he wanted to do was punch something or throw something, absolutely anything, but now wasn’t the time nor the place. And who the fuck was he going to deck, anyway, the fucking teenager or however old she was? That wasn’t going to happen. 

Fucking hell, all eyes were still glued on him and the scene playing out in front of them. “What the fuck are you looking at, huh?” he shouted at someone with their goddamn phone out. “Got a problem?” The guy got a little sheepish and tried to hide that he was recording but didn’t stop watching. 

Nora should have been an actor. The performance she was putting on was Oscar worthy. An illusion twisted Nora’s face from her blank expression into one of sorrow. “Don’t even know my name? After everything we’ve been through?” The illusionary tears were coming faster now, Nora didn’t bother to wipe them away. She wanted everyone to see how beautiful her show was. Wasn’t this a type of fear? The fear of rejection after opening your heart to someone. How thrilling it would be to feel that fear. Around her, faces were staring. Her audience was enthralled. A few streams of fear drifted towards her, it was a delightful discovery. People were afraid of public arguments. Nora took a deep breath, passing it off as her trying to keep from crying. “I loved you, with my whole heart, and now you stand before me and everyone else” Her hand made a large seeping motion “And claim not to know me? They all saw us drinking coffee together, Mon chéri.” It wasn’t often Nora got strokes of genius, but this had to be one. A French accent coming from him meant no one would be suspicious of her giving him a French nickname. Nora wanted to drop the act and start rolling around laughing.

"When you're next with her, I hope you think of me. I hope you remember everything you gave up for her. She'll never love you like I loved you." Nora looked away, allowing their audience to see her tear stained illusionary face. "My dads told me I shouldn't trust a man like you. But I told them you would never hurt me. Guess I'm the fool." Nora's vocal cords strained from the amount of effort all this talking was. She didn't dislike talking, she just preferred to sit and stare in silence. That meant it was time to start making her exit. Nora took her sketch pad out of her pocket, pulling out the crumpled loose drawing before and scribbling something on it. "This is goodbye. Don't contact me again." Nora crumpled up the drawing again and threw it at him, it was a gentle throw designed for him to catch. With those as her final words Nora turned on her heel and marched out of Latte of Love. 

If the man decided to open the crumpled paper to see what was written on it, she would find a short and simple note. "This was a lot of fun, let's do it again some time." Signed with an unintelligible scribble. Nora never looked back as she walked away. Kind Samaritans called out to her, to see if she was okay, but she ignored all offers. This had been the most fun she'd had in awhile. 

What the fuck was happening here? Was she actually crying? Putain de merde. Kaden was frozen in place, dripping in cold coffee, entirely unsure of what to do with himself. Nothing he said seemed to matter and he had a feeling leaving would only escalate the performance. He looked back down at the state of his notebook, the only thing he felt he could control in this situation, and it, too, was dripping in liquid. “Goddamn it,” he grumbled as he grabbed it and tried to shake it out, spraying the people nearby with drops of coffee. “Shit, I’m sorry, let me…” He looked down for any napkins on the table only to find that they were also covered in coffee. Shit. He reached over to the table next to him and grabbed their napkins and tried to wipe up a little of their table before attempting to salvage his notebook. All that happened was that the napkin also became soaked. 

“Hey! What are you doing?” the woman at the table asked, a look of horror on her face at the entire thing playing out in front of her.  

“Putain de merde.” This was a fucking mess. In more ways than one. 

The hunter sighed. There was no way to fix this. Part of him was tempted to lean into it all. Before he could make any sort of decision, she was shoving a piece of paper into his coffee-stained hand and storming out of the door. Kaden uncrumpled it, trying to see what the hell she’d scribbled on it before the coffee drops spread and made it unreadable. 

This was a lot of fun, let's do it again some time.

All he could do was look up at the door swinging closed behind her. She had to be kidding, right? She just embarrassed him and probably got him banned from one of the few decent cafes in town and she thought this was fun? He looked back to see the shop owner (and at least half the store) glaring daggers at him. “Don’t worry, I’m leaving.” He shook off the last of the coffee that he could manage before grabbing his notebook and rushing out the door. The kid was nowhere to be found. Somehow, he was pretty sure this wasn’t going to be the last time he saw her. “Putain.”

[corpse--diem]

Cat Call | Kaden & Erin

TIMING: Current? PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup & @corpse–diem SUMMARY: Erin goes to pick up Betty at the shelter and has a brief but interesting run-in with one animal control office. 

Erin was out the door before she even hung up with the woman on the other end of the phone call. For all of the godforsaken things that had happened in the past few weeks, one good thing had finally fucking happened. They’d found Betty. Alive, unharmed, and ready to come home. Never in her life would Erin have pictured herself speeding through town for a cat. Here she was regardless, a drumming in her chest and the biggest, hopeful smile on her face as she burst into the animal shelter. “Hi!” she started, unintentionally cutting off the receptionist she’d just spoken with before she could greet Erin in turn. “I’m here for Betty? Nichols? Erin Nichols. We were just on the phone?” The woman laughed as Erin fumbled for identification. Once she was satisfied, she grinned, Erin’s excitement more than contagious. No doubt that this was probably one of the better parts of this job. Most were lost, but some actually found their way back home.

“Betty’s just in the back. Give me just one second,” the older woman assured her. The barking grew louder as she disappeared into the back and Erin tapped her fingers anxiously against the counter. The door reopened just a few moments later and she stood straight, a smile that practically showed all of her teeth until--

“...Kaden?”

It wasn’t unusual for Kaden to be in and out of the shelter multiple times a day. Picking up strays, dropping them off, for one. And sometimes he just liked stopping by, checking in. And very occasionally, he would get a hopeful call that a lost pet was found. It almost never turned out well. Not in this town. There were usually a few he was keeping an eye out for, certain cases he was following. Usually it was for the children he had to encounter. In this case, it was for a brown and white cat. Betty. He’d asked to be called second if a cat matching her description showed up. He had driven over to confirm, maybe tell Erin if she didn’t already know.

So he wasn’t entirely shocked to see her there, eager and excited. But she sure seemed shocked to see him. “Erin,” he greeted her. Not sure why she was surprised. He kind of worked there. “You know I’m here all the time. I know you do. Considering…” Considering they’d shared brain space a few weeks ago. He didn’t miss that. At all. Odd, guess they hadn’t run into each other in person since that happened. And since she went to jail. Or since she nearly got Blanche and Rio killed. And did get Sarge killed.

Why was he helping her get her cat back again? He sighed. There was no reason to think she was a bad pet owner. He had been in her head after all. There was a lot that he’d found there that he disliked. But there was no trace of animal cruelty or even negligence. And animals did bond to people. Keeping them in their homes was usually for the best. “Heard Betty was found. Congrats.” Putain, it was so awkward. He had no idea what to say or do in this situation. “Is someone getting her or do you need help?”

“Right, of course. I did know that,” Erin said quickly. She didn’t know why she’d been surprised either. Then again, it wasn’t as if the Frenchman she was uncomfortably well-acquainted with had been at the top of her mind. It’d been a mad dash out the door, relief and excitement and Betty trumping most other rational thoughts. The longer she stood here, the quicker they trickled back in. She shifted uncomfortably in place, a thick tension buzzing in the air that nearly rivaled the hum of bad overhead lighting. “I’m good. Someone’s getting her.” She paused, uncertainty and a dash of reluctance stifling her. “Thank you again for helping, or looking out anyway. You didn’t have to but you did, and I appreciate it. Really. So, just--uh, yeah. Thank you.” It was a clumsy apology, nerves she didn’t know what to do with fumbling her words, but it was a sincere one nonetheless.

Silence filled the room again. What was taking so long? Not that she had any desire to pop back into his brain ever again but she would have wagered this was just as weird for him. The guy probably hated her, and even if she tended to disagree with him on most things, she couldn’t blame him for his contempt. Not after the fire. “We don’t have to make this a whole thing, right?” She hushed her voice, glancing at the door. “I’ll just get Betty, go, and we can keep our ways thoroughly parted. Forever, if we can help it.”

Kaden wasn’t sure if he should stay or leave. Some strange social conventions seemed to be keeping him in place, though he was sure there was no written rule for this sort of moment. He could just as easily leave and go about his job. But he didn’t. Because he was stupid. “Don’t mention it. I mean it’s sort of my job,” he said with a small shrug. “Plus, it’s better for the animal if they remain with the same owner. Some sense of stability.” There was enough of Erin that was moderately likeable that he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt that she could provide something stable enough to keep her cat. At the same time, looking at her, all he could picture was flames, Blanche’s burns, what he’d guessed the remains of Roland Hills looked like in his nightmares. It was hard to reconcile how to feel about her.

He drummed his fist against the counter, looking away from her and was about to leave, go back to work, when he caught the pointed glance that Allison, the shelter worker at the desk, gave him. His brow creased. “What is it?” he asked her. “Nothing,” she started, going back to shuffling papers for a full half second before turning back to them. “But maybe save your argument with your ex for someplace private. That’s all,” she added with a coy smile.

His ex? What ex? No one was here other than Er-- Oh. Oh. She thought… “I don’t-- We’re not-- I never dated her. Ever. At all. If that’s what you’re--” Allison held her hands up and made a face that looked like something Blanche would do that indicated how fucking little she believed him. “It’s not what you think it--” Kaden’s mouth pulled into a thin line, finally realizing this was a hole he wasn’t digging himself out of anytime soon. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Great. This wasn’t already awkward as shit. “Where the hell is Linda with your cat?”

To say Erin was anxious to get her arms around her much too long missing furball and hightail it out there was the understatement of the century. Some sense of stability. She was sure that wasn’t a well-disguised jab, given the sincerity in Kaden’s tone, but it dug at her all the same. Stability. Her teeth clenched down, forcing yet another tight-lipped smile. Just be nice. You only have to be nice for a few more minutes. “Don’t worry - I spoil her rotten. I’m sure she’s eager to get back to her ultra cozy lifestyle,” Erin assured him, a gentler smile replacing it. For a moment, anyway.

“Oh, God. No, no. No--” she insisted, joining in Kaden’s chorus of stern declines, despite the awkward laugh that fell from her. “That’s--no,” she adamantly emphasized the ‘no’ heavily again, shaking her head. Still, she narrowed her eyes in Kaden’s direction with unearned indignation, tilting her head, then turned pointedly to the receptionist. “I’m just… not really his type, you know? I think it was because I talk just too damn much. Guy likes his silence. Kind of a black and white issue with him, but,” she shrugged. “Can’t fault a guy for knowing what he likes. Right?” The woman tried to stifle her laughter, eyes growing a little wide as Erin smirked smugly at Kaden’s direction again. Petty? Yes. Did she regret it? Not yet. One last little dig for the road didn’t hurt.

“Here she is!” The voice pulled her attention back to the door. Erin saw the disheveled, dirty fur poking out from Linda’s arms, and just like that, everyone else in the room vanished. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears, the relief and joy melting every ounce of composure. Yep. The second she was in her arms, she was babbling like every embarrassing pet owner she’d ever seen as the tears streaked her cheeks. Oh God, this was embarrassing. God, she know it. Did she care? Not one bit. “Oh, my sweet girl,” she cooed, brushing back some of the matted hair on top of her head before burying her face into the soft fur, unable to lift her eyes to the three employees watching their reunion. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she mumbled, trying not to squeeze her too tightly.

Kaden was relieved that for once, him and Erin were on the same page about something as she explained to Allison that no, they weren’t dating and never had been. But his brow furrowed as she continued. Yeah, okay she wasn’t really his type since she was a criminal but he wasn’t sure where she was going with thi-- She had to be fucking kidding. The confusions on his face shifted to annoyance. “Pretty sure that’s not it. I’m into screamers, really.” It would almost be funny if his hearing wasn’t still a little muffled from that boat ride with Regan and Savannah. “And come on, if I was into black and white stripes, you would have been a perfect candidate, Erin.” Allison didn’t exactly seem convinced by their snipping that they’d never dated. Kaden didn’t care just then. He wanted to get the last dig in. “Ah, nevermind, that’s right. They wear orange now, right?” The receptionist's face was scrunched up as she tried to put together the pieces of the conversation and it was clear she was still coming up short.

“Kaden are you into that big orange mascot thing? You know from Philadelphia I think. Is that what you’re saying?” Allison asked him, clearly concerned and a little distrubed.

“Huh? No! A mascot? What the fuck are you-- I was saying she’s a crimin--” He stopped just short of finishing his sentence. Shit, if Allison thought Erin was a convicted criminal, she might not give Erin back the cat. Putain. “I mean, not really. Never mind. Just a joke. We still never dated so stop looking at me like that.” Allison backed off and went back to shuffling her papers just as Betty was brought out. He’d never been happier to see a fucking cat and it wasn’t even his. As much as he wasn’t Erin’s biggest fan, seeing the reunion between her and her pet was worth it. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smile as he watched her hug her cat. He caught a glance from Allison and saw her waggle her brows. The look he shot back was no longer smiling. “Glad you two are reunited. I mean it,” he said offering Erin a small smile and a nod before going back to work.

Erin couldn’t help the chuckle that followed when his coworker hopped on board, or even the shocked one that followed the ‘screamer’ bit. Really? Her eyebrows rose unbelievably but decided that she could let that one slide. Seemed like Allison was getting as much enjoyment out of this as she was. Prodding the grumbly bear must have been more than a few of his coworkers favorite pastimes. No wonder he was grumpy. “You’re right,” she gestured towards Kaden, seemingly giving in. “You just need a lot more than I can provide. I’m big enough to admit that,” she smirked over in Kaden’s direction.

It was all fun and games until the word criminal nearly left Kaden’s lips. Her eyes shot wide open while he backtracked, and thank God she’d been preoccupied with Betty’s return otherwise the jabs would have come less jokingly than before. But once Betty was in her arms, there was nothing that Kaden could say to inspire any real rebuttal, joking or not. One good thing--she’d just wanted one good thing and she finally had it. She needed a bath and a thorough brushing but she figured that was a fair tradeoff. Glanced up long enough to see the soft smile on Kaden’s face before he gruffly brushed it away. Nodded in return before Kaden walked off, a sincere smile of her own finding her lips, before it was finally time to take Betty home.

[braindeacl]

Stuck in the Middle (of the Woods) With You | Eilidh & Kaden

SETTING: The Outskirts. TIMING: Before the current POTW. PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup​ & @braindeacl SUMMARY: Kaden’s hunt is interrupted when he falls victim to a trap. Luckily Eilidh is near, hunting monsters of her own, though they may just be imagined.   WARNINGS: N/A

As much as Kaden occasionally wanted to quit his duty, it didn’t dissipate. He was still a hunter. And a hunter had to hunt. At least that’s what his family would say. It’s what Oscar would say. Putain, what would Oscar say if he knew Kaden was taking breaks from baking pies to wander into the woods and not the other way around? No, he couldn’t think about that. Had to stay alert in the outskirts of White Crest. He knew better than to let his mind run off. The wind whistling through the trees was the only sound besides the occasional crunching of leaves and branches under his boots. A sudden snap stopped him in his tracks, head whipping around to the source of the sound. He waited; concentrated. He could feel it, a small tinge. A monster was nearby, some sort of beast. It was faint, nothing like he felt when a wolf was near, but it was unmistakable all the same. Kaden breathed in deep and creeped through the forest in the direction of the sound, concentrating on keeping as quiet as he could. One step, then another. Carefully, slowly, he walked and there, in the distance, was a bonedoggle. 

Kaden reached for his gun, silently switching the safety off before raising it, aiming, and-- Screaming. Sharp pain shot through his foot as he fired his gun who the hell knows where. The bonedoggle growled, thought better, and ran off at the sound. Shit. The hunter went to take off running, catch up to it, only when he tried, he was met with resistance. And pain. More pain. How was there more pain? Kaden looked down to see the metal clamped around his calf. Putain de merde. A fucking bear trap. Fuck. Wincing at the pain, he bent down, tossed his gun to the side and tried to start pulling the trap apart. It hurt. Everything hurt. Pain clouded his vision and his thoughts. He wasn’t going to let it win, not now, he wasn’t going to die in these woods like this. So he just kept struggling, some screaming. And he had a feeling he wasn’t going to be alone for much longer. Good or bad, that much he didn’t know. Yet. 

A sudden gunshot was the first thing to pique Eilidh’s interest. The ensuing screams only heightened it. She followed the distressed sounds. Running through the woods with a swiftness gained by familiarity. And fueled by suspicion. A gunshot on its own may spell a hunter finding its prey. But the screams. They were at a pitch that meant someone was hurt. The thought of vampires had pulled her into these depths, not convinced their threat was fully gone. Their boss may be dead—as he deserved—but armies were made of more than just leaders. So, at the first sign of something amiss, mind filled in those blanks with those potential threats. She quickened her pace. As she leapt across a small creek, that’s when she saw it. Another running through the trees, from the opposite direction. Suspicion almost blinded her to its true form—hand gripping at a stake. But while a fellow predator, this creature was more dog than vampire. The two stopped. And stared. Looking into its eyes, glowing balls of green, a name resurfaced. Bonedoggle. It hunkered down, on the defensive. Eilidh tensed as well, not breaking. The creature bared its teeth; Eilidh did so in return. Her exposed teeth began to chatter, emitting a sound like a rattlesnake. After a tense moment, the bonedoggle hopped to the left and disappeared within a nearby shadow. Once gone, excitement from the encounter flooded her senses, but the nearby screams quickly drew her back. She continued.

Between the dense vegetation, Eilidh finally spotted him; well, some of him. The cause of all this commotion. He was on the ground, seemingly alone, but she couldn’t make out much else. She stopped. Her eyes darted about, trying to catch sight of any fangs. When nothing was apparent, she motioned forward, instructing James with only her eyes. After a long pause, she looked up, companion returned with his findings. She listened, before whispering, “Bear trap? Really?” She pondered for a moment. “Well. Sucks since he’s clearly not a bear.” Her joke landed flat. “Yeah, yeah.” She began to move again, voice now rising to a yell. “Hey! Coming over to help!” And had full intention to do so. But after a few steps, her movements were suddenly hindered. Followed by a great pressure laced with discomfort, creeping up a leg. 

Eilidh looked down. Finding her boot had been replaced by… a bear trap. She kept staring in silence. Are you fucking? Are you fucking kidding me?

“No, I’m clearly fucking not,” Kaden grumbled to himself through grit teeth. He was damn sure she thought he couldn’t hear her but that hunter hearing was useful sometimes. Othertimes it just added more pain to his fucking misery. He should be thankful. The sounds were human and they offered help. There was much worse that could have been the first thing to hear his shouts. He looked up and saw a woman across the way. If she was a werewolf, there was no way he could tell now, not while pain was screaming through his veins, no way could he give any hunter senses any attention. “Any faster if you--” The sound of metal clamping down on flesh cut him off. His breath hitched in his chest as his gaze shot back to his own leg. The trap was still clamped around his calf. And his calf was still attached to the rest of him. Alright, that was good. So what the fuck was that noise? And where the hell had she gone? He looked back and saw that she was standing still. Hadn’t moved. That was odd. So what was that-- “Putain,” he shouted, throwing his head back at the sky. Whatever asshole hunter left these out in the woods, he’d fucking punch him in the teeth. No good son of a-- Kaden kept cursing under his breath as he tried desperately to pry the teeth out from his leg, put a pause to the pain. “Got. Any. Plans?” he yelled back at her. 

“Fffffucking, fuck. Fucking bam!” The words softly, but passionately, hissed out of her mouth as Eilidh continued to stare at her predicament. Metal jaws clamped down tightly on both sides of her right leg. While her leg was small enough to avoid most, two of the large teeth crushed the anterior side. Enough to have ruptured her skin and the bone underneath. It came with a nice burst of sensation, leg overcome in a raging warmth. But also with that lovely consequence of keeping her from going fucking anywhere. Fuck. “…Hold on!” She called out to the stranger before dropping down to the ground. The trap made movement awkward, forcing her to scuttle. Luckily, only seconds passed before she found what she needed. Rocks. Sturdy looking ones. Eyeballing the measurements, she picked up the most suitably sized and crammed it in between the two jaws of the trap. Then it was time for the real fun.

Pulling out the knife strapped to her thigh, Eilidh began slicing muscles, tendons—whatever was ensnared. As her own flesh fell to the forest floor, the jaws lurched forward ever so slightly, wanting to connect. But the rock moved further in place, snug against the two parts. It seemed to be holding. Good. She went back to work. Slash, slash, slash—she could feel the pressure residing. Replaced with delicious stings with each proceeding cut. When she was done, her leg looked like a shawarma meat spit after a busy day. She was free! Cutting off a sizable piece of her skirt, she wrapped it around the wound. It wasn’t pretty, and liquid immediately began to stain parts of the fabric as it oozed from her. But it was a distraction as she healed. “Coming!” She ventured onward once more, but this time with a heavy limp. And eyes placed firmly on the ground.

Kaden wasn’t sure if it was his strength failing him or his willpower to push past the pain, but the trap was barely moving against his leg. “Bordel de merde,” he muttered. They were both going to be stuck here. In the middle of the fucking woods. Caught in bear traps. Probably going to be mauled by that goddamn bonedoggle in the distance. He paused and rested his now bloody hands against his knee, wincing in pain, breaths heavy. If even his hunter strength wasn’t doing much to make it budge, what the hell was she going to do? “Fuck!” he shouted, looking up at the sky. Deep breath, one last grit of his teeth, then he turned to see what she was managing. She was wrapping her leg. “Waid, did you get--” Did she get free? “You’re-- How? How did-- Are you okay? What did you do?” She was too far away for him to make out what was happening. He couldn’t even tell if the scent of blood was coming from her direction or just from his own currently mangled leg. But she was standing. Somehow. Maybe it had only nicked her. Lucky. Fuck, no, neither of them were lucky right now. “Take your time,” he shouted back. “Didn’t want to keep my leg or anything like that.” Sarcasm and joking didn’t exactly make the pain subside, but there was no harm in trying, right?

“Thing must’ve been busted. Still nicked me real good. But am a hardy girl.” With each step, Eilidh’s foot found sturdier hold. Oozing shifting into perspiration; muscles starting to rejoin. It slowly became easier to place more weight on that side. But the severity of the limp would only drop slightly—gotta keep up perceptions—struggling against the supposed injury. Gaze kept drifting to the surrounding treeline; ready to drop the act if trouble arose. All this blood and screaming might attract others. Ones with fangs, as it had her. But for now, their only company was the surrounding forest and her little creatures. Eilidh let out a laugh. “Oh, that’s good then. I’m gettin’ tired.” Stopping for a moment, she leaned against a tree, as if taking a short break. An extremely short one, because the following second she was back to the waddle. 

Finally, Eilidh was close enough to really see the man’s predicament. The trap bit into his leg with a vengeance, threatening to sever. And if it managed to make her feel something substantial, the pain must be blinding for him. Whoever made these really fucking hated bears. She winced for him, eyes softening. Those eyes drifted to the springs… Right. The springs. Why didn’t she try those first? Duilich cas. But if the strength of the clasp were any indication, the spring hold was something to be reckoned with. Still, she wasn’t alone this time. Neither of them were. “If we push at the same time, the springs’ll go down.” Before getting agreement, she started heading toward a spring. 

Busted? It hadn’t sounded busted when he heard the jaws sink into her flesh earlier. Guess it didn’t matter much. She was out of the trap and on her way so why fucking question it. “Lucky you,” Kaden grumbled. His eyes pinched shut as he clamped his teeth together, pressing them as tight as he could. The tension in his jaw didn’t push away the pain, not even close. Then again, not sure he was looking forward to getting the trap off his leg, he was sure that was going to be a different kind of shock to his system. Putain, he’d have to avoid his system going into shock. His eyes shot open at her response just long enough to roll them. “Yeah of course, I bet it’s exhausting, taking that str--” The sarcasm only distracted him for a few seconds. Not long enough to push out the last word with anything other than a wince. Kaden did what he could to control his breathing and before he knew it, she was there, examining the situation. He was sure if there was anything to see other than pain in his eyes, there was hope. He really didn’t want to lose a damn leg, not like this. His mind flashed to Alain. Right. Maybe this was karma. He was the one who should have lost a leg then. She spoke and his focus pulled back to the present, eyes locked on hers. “The spring?” he repeated. He looked down at the trap again. Right. The spring. With a quick nod and another deep inhale, he rubbed his bloody palms together and then shook them out. “Alright, let’s do it.” His voice was still breathy and strained from the pain, but he was determined to push through, hold off the shock that was looming, threatening. He placed his hands on the sides of the traps one more time. “On go. Three, two, one, go!” 

As the two came to an understanding, Eilidh nodded. A foot, the good foot, pressed onto a spring—not enough to cause movement, but enough for the trap to recognize her presence. Seconds ticked down, three then two then one, and her muscles steadily tensed in preparation. Go! Her weight was distributed from both feet to just one—forcing the spring into motion. Simple gravity pulled her down, and that foot found the ground again. The metal jaws found it as well, pushed apart by their efforts. Great maw released its prey. Despite the absence of its hold, the man’s leg was still distorted in the shadow of its pressure, as if waiting for them to return. Fitting together like puzzle pieces. “Got a preference for bridal, piggyback, or fireman’s carry?” She tapped her lips in thought, eyes scanning the nearby area. “Could splint it in the meantime wiiiiiith. Ah!” She removed herself from the spring and the jaws returned to their deathly grip, sans victim. A satisfactory stick was her new target. She quickly secured the item—gave it a few inspection spins for good measure—before returning to the injured man.

Relief was short-lived as Kaden pulled his leg from the trap. It was followed immediately by more pain. Kadne bit down, hoping he could hold back the scream as the wave of agony washed over him. All he managed was to muffle it. Deep breath. It was free. His leg was free. Putain. He wasn’t sure if there was more blood from his leg or his hands at this point. No, definitely the leg. Fuck. “Wait, what?” he asked, brow furrowed looking up at her. He hadn’t quite processed what just happened. She had helped pry open the trap, something he was struggling to do on his own with hunter strength. “Carry me? What makes you think you can carry me?” Was she a hunter, too? “It’s fine I can--” His teeth gnashed down on his tongue as he tried to force himself to stand, falling back with the pain. Putain de fucking merde. “Splint. Sure,” he grumbled. He bristled at feeling this helpless, but held out his leg anyway. Might as well make it quick. “Thanks,” he muttered. “You really think you can carry me?”

More of her skirt was removed—thin but strong strip. Eilidh placed the chosen stick against his leg, strong and secure against his broken and battered limb. The strip was the needed third, joined the two together. With each pull and tug of her hands brought a sense of unification. Full symmetry wasn’t achieved. She wasn’t exactly a medic. No need when every cut and scrap dissipated by the time a gauze could be found—even her own leg was close to spotless under a matching patch of skirt. If only the same could be said for the man. Satisfied with her amateur job—it looked right enough to her—she clapped her hands just once before readying them for their next activity. Hint of a chuckle, low and mischievous, lingered in her voice at his disbelief. “Yeah. Like this.” Without another word, she grabbed hold of his arms. Hoisted him upon his feet, before hoisting him onto her shoulder. “Onward.” And onward she went, slower than before with the added weight, but onward all the same. 

Kaden did his best to keep any signs of pain off his face, biting back everything he could manage. This was far from his worst injury and he had learned years ago that pain was just something to push past; something to deal with later. Still, it was hard to fight instinct. He wasn’t sure there was any relief in the sigh he let out once she was finished dressing the wound, but there was a tinge less pain. Guess he’d take it. 

He held out his hand for her, expecting her to help him up to hobble away together, with him leaning on her shoulder as they walked through the woods. Instead, Kaden shouted as she tossed him across her shoulder. “Putain de merde!” Several more curse words went flying in several different languages. “The hell are you doing? Put me down!” That was stupid. He could probably use the help. No, no fuck that. This was embarrassing. “Why the hell-- You-- How in the fuck are you this strong?” She had to be something. No way could she have done this by sheer willpower alone. “You sure you can keep this up the whole way back?”

The screams pierced Eilidh’s ears, irritating more than those jaws ever could. The sounds dug deep into her mind, resurfacing a memory. A time when she rescued an ovinnik. Teetering above deep waters, perhaps teetering above their grave. Loud protest followed her helpful hand then as well. Though, this instance lacked that added touch of fire. His biting words easier to handle than flames. Aggression was no stranger to her. It found her easily, either from others or within herself. And his own awakened some of her own. Jaw set tensed. In a passing silence (he had to breathe after all) she added her own thoughts. “Could let you crawl back.” Spoken with a bite; leaving the truth of her statement up to debate. A debate which carried on even in her own head, though it was short-lived—a mischievous consideration. Feet pressed on. At an even and steady pace—rhythmic beat when her body lacked all others. Even her supposed injured foot fell into this rhythm, the deception lost in her focus to return to town. “Hm. Can’t tell if sexist. Or just never met someone who exercises.” There was a chuckle in the accusations. “Don’t worry. Slow n’ steady’ll win. You’re not the heaviest thing I’ve lugged ‘round.” 

Kaden grumbled and squirmed as he tried to get comfortable. There was no comfort to be found. “I could do it, you know,” he grumbled. He was half tempted to tell her to let him go again; crawling back sounded preferable at a certain point. It’d be a fucking waste of time, though, and so he sighed and shifted himself again to get his ribs out of her shoulder a little. He couldn’t tell if it was better to go limp and accept it or not. Her next comment had him trying to turn to address her. So much for accepting things. “I am not sexist and this is more than fucking exercising, putain de merde.” There was no way she could just so easily cart him through the woods like this. Unless… “Are you… Are you a hunter?” The last word was whispered but if she was what he suspected she was, it wouldn’t matter; she’d hear him. He didn’t feel any shivers down his spine, there was no way she was a shapeshifter. If she were, he’d know right off the bat. He didn’t exactly want to to consider any other possibilities. Not yet. 

There was a passing sense of triumph as that restless body on Eilidh’s shoulder found acceptance. Only for both to be shaken off with each new jolt of the man’s body. But when their eyes met, after a fit of scrambling, a revival of that triumph did linger. Not as strong, but still present. Seems she hit a nerve. And it was amusing watching how easy he flustered. But a tightness in her brow shifted that eased expression. Twitch of muscle jumping her face to that of thought. How curious, that his mind so quickly went to hunter. She lacked any sense of camo, or rifle, or bow. Or any other hallmarks of the common usage—to those who stalked game. While daggers were indeed present on her person, it was not enough. Hunter. A simple word, when in simple context. And almost missed—a mere whisper. But she recognized those motions on his lips and the tension in his eyes. Mirrored by many others. Those who preyed on more than the beasties in the woods. On ones like her: beings in the mist. To connect her to those others... Why, it sent a faint rumble in her chest. Purr of vexation. Even though, in a way, he may be right. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” She flexed her shoulders and kept moving. 

Kaden’s brows furrowed, his forehead creased. She hadn’t answered his question directly, but he was trying to find a hint to what she was pointing at indirectly. The temptation to squirm and wriggle away bubbled up again. If she was a hunter, there’s no way she thought he was anything other than human, right? Then again, he was a hunter and had thought the same of her. And while she may have still been human, it was clear enough that she was something more, whether it was hunter or not he didn’t know. Kaden grew tense, rigid, but tried to inhale deeply and push it away; afraid to betray the discomfort too much. Every part of him wanted to say that he would like to know. He should say that. He should push and poke and prod. If she wasn’t human, he was a hunter. He had a duty to humanity. But he was also injured. Very. And it was clear enough she was strong. Very. The odds weren’t in his favor right now. Best to bide his time. There was no reason to die in the woods to a bear trap. And as confused as he was, the one thing he knew was that he didn’t want to die. “Right. Just taking a shot in the dark,” he grumbled before accepting his fate once more. “How long is this going to take?”

The man stilled. Again would be a stretch, for there was a noticeable difference. A tension that refused to leave, locking his joints in place. Making him more a bundle of logs than a sack of dirt. Eilidh’s peripheral watched him as she continued forward. The hell kinda answer he wanted? Yes or no? She should keep her tongue from saying either. But tongue craved to say something. Wiggling passed what was once locked teeth. “Why’s it matter?” She wasn’t expecting an answer. Knew enough that those in the know, those of the town, held their secrets close like a dragon’s horde. Suspicious of any who came too close, threatening to steal them away. But the question still hung in the air. A challenge. And she rarely backed down from those.

“Hell if I know. I just walk.” Eilidh’s lips parted in a whistle. Singing the lover’s call of a songbird she heard long ago and always remerged in times of silence. But it rang out only long enough to perhaps catch the attention of a lucky lady. Before falling dead like her own lady love. Blood of a human—well, what she had assumed to be but now questioned—would attract any vampires near. And with her in the mix, those fuckers could get some revenge and a meal in one go. Well. If they could best her. And it surely had been a while since she’d last seen any. Almost missed the fuckers. She had hungers too—ones that wanted to claw and rip and break. For a wanting instead of any need of sustenance. And, how quaint, that she would run into an injured human—presumably—during this wanting. How fate finds ways to fill her heart.

But with each step, the silence continued. Every snap of a twig and rustle of grass and swaying of branches brought her eyes to focus. But yielded nothing. Odd. Until Eilidh remembered that question. And the following unease. Perhaps first assumptions were wrong. So, surely, her second would be correct. That the two may be more alike than first thought. She gave him what he wanted. Many minutes after the fact. “No.”

Kaden huffed at the question. No answer needed to be spoken aloud; they both knew why it mattered. What side of the war were you on? The one for humanity or against it. The one that helped or the one that harmed. The lines had blurred ever slightly for him as of late but the overarching sides were the same, nothing had changed there. He didn’t bother answering and just watched the leaves and twigs pass by as she stepped on them. This was going to be his life for the next however the fuck long he was going to be hanging over her shoulder, nothing but a limp, useless sack of flesh aht the moment. One that should be thankful. Still, he was having trouble finding any comfort in the situation or her opaqueness. His eyes started to slowly close, the forest ground bouncing in front of them growing darker as his lids started to pull together; not like there was much more for him to do anyway, might as well sleep and hope he wasn’t going into shock.

Her answer jolted him awake. No? No, what? His brows furrowed and he clumsily rubbed his eyes as Kaden tried to put the pieces together. No. What question was she answering? How long is this going to take? No, that wasn’t it. Why did it matter? Not that either. Was she a hunter? All his muscles tensed and he swallowed back the questions bubbling in his throat. No, she wasn’t a hunter. No, the woman with super strength carrying him was not one of his own. No, there was no guarantee she’d leave him alive. No, there was promise she wouldn’t try to strike a deal with him later. No, there was no reason to assume he was safe anymore. His mind screamed to him to wriggle out of her grasp, get free. But then fucking what was he going to do? Crawl away? Hop on one fucking foot through the forest? He gripped his hands into fists, resisting the urge to bolt or fight his way out. It would never work. It wouldn’t work. He kept telling himself over and over again that if he wanted to live, the smart thing to do was just fucking let her walk him back to civilization, as wrong as it felt deep in his bones. “Okay,” he grumbled through grit teeth as he tried to find the place of relaxation he had before. He couldn’t find it though. He kept his jaw clenched and his fist closed for a long time, still watching the leaves as they passed one by one. 

Just when Eilidh thought he had seized his limbs the tightest they could, the man managed to find another level of tension. Admittedly, she was impressed. For a moment. Until the meaning, or mostly lack of, settled into her own. Prick of nerves like thorns down her arm—muscles giving the slightest flex. Her confusion no longer locked in the mental but crawling down her skin. Questions ran through her head, as they always did. A forest of whys and whats. Easy to get lost, for she did not know those paths like the ones her feet met. So she picked one that seemed most tantalizing—of her mind, her feet knew its way—and traveled. Met a conclusion. The man was shy or something about what he was. Whatever the hell that was. And didn’t want to trend anymore on these subjects. It would explain some things. His rigidity and outbursts and overall crabbiness—further explained of course by that nasty leg. Well, lucky for him, he could continue to keep it inside. Eilidh had no interest in opening that can of worms. Only muttering a quick, “Fish sad with their fins won’t swim.” And continued in silence, enjoying his lack of motion and noise in equal measure.

But it wasn’t long until the sound of a car rumbled past. A sudden clang and bang of commotion. Causing Eilidh to produce her own, a soft hiss of alarm, before both hiss and rumbling quickly dwindled to nothing. A temporary return to quiet. Then as the winds picked up, the creeeeeak of a swing in need of oil further confirmed their proximity to town. Her pace quickened, and the trees noticeably thinned. But only in one particular spot. A road. And just beyond that the local elementary school. Her steps transitioned to pavement. Knowing if she kept following it would lead her to a right, straight to the main part of town. “Well! You can call a cab. Or cops. Or still crawl. Lots of c’s. Take you off to the hospital or… somewhere else.” There was a knowing in that last part, as if nudging him with her voice. 

“What do fish have to do with anything?” Kaden grumbled back. Sad fish? He was confused. Was she fae, then? A nokk or maybe another sort of nymph? Or did she think he was fae? He wasn’t sure. None of it made sense. Putain, the whole scenario barely made any sense at this point. This whole fucking town made even less sense than that. Why he bothered trying to find any sense, he hardly knew. The rest of the way, he simply accepted his fate, something he’d learned to do a while back in this stupid town. 

When he heard the sound of wheels against the pavement, the soft distant humming of engines passing by, Kaden perked up in her arms, trying to twist enough to catch a glimpse of civilization. As soon as he saw the vegetation beneath his face clear and the hint of the road’s edge, he half expected her to drop him. “I am a cop,” he muttered to himself before letting out a sigh. “Doesn’t matter. Just no hospital. You can sit me on a bench for all I can call someone from here.” Silence tensed around them. “Thanks,” he said, short, simply. It was all the gratitude he could muster after being carried halfway through the forest on her damn shoulder.

Eilidh’s chest rumbled low as he returned to his wiggling. Her shoulder awoken in the struggle; blossoming in a dull heat from prolonged use. It was pleasant, a reminder that her limbs were real and connected to her. Even if her hands didn’t care for corporeality and wanted to let go. She almost complied. Letting her arm have a moment of reprieve, his form slipping from her grasp. Only to regain it just as quickly with a chuckle. Chuckle turned to a curt hum. No hospital, huh? Knew it. Her attention focused back to the street and beyond. Looking for a bench or a cousin of one. There were a few situated near that creaking swing. After a few quick paces, one became near. Her arms went about the motions as before, but did not stop. Letting the man slide onto the bench.

Well, he wasn’t fae. That much Eilidh knew. Even the strongest gave the tiniest squirm under that damn word, and he didn’t so much as blink. “Acknowledged.” Despite knowing certain words were of no risk with him, habits were habits. And even if he had been a cranky sort, at least he had some form of manner. She looked back to the surrounding trees, imagination placing enemies between the trunks. Without looking back, she continued, “Best be quick. Be pissed if after all that work I see you on the newspaper.” And then she left. But not fully. She still lingered amongst the distant trees, just out of sight. Watching. Waiting. Until a car came, picked him up, and left without any commotion. Or any vampires. 

Eilidh looked to her palm. There was a smudge—his blood. Red and common. She licked it. And it tasted of nothing, as usual. 

[zahneundklauen-retired]

The Beginning Of The End || Alcher and Kaden

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup and @zahneundklauen SUMMARY: Alcher and Kaden run into each other again at the Nightshade Market. This time, pieces click into place. CONTENT: Parental death mention

Farmer’s Market. Outskirts. Friday. That’s what the note said, scrawled in messy handwriting on the back of a deli counter receipt. Apparently that’s where he had to go to find any cheese worth buying in this town. At least, according to the man behind the deli counter at the grocery store. Kaden hadn’t realized how nice that cheese promise from Evelyn had been when he had it; he took it for granted, really. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to benefit from a fae promise with a mara. The thought alone sent a shiver down his spine. The farther he walked along the road towards what sounded like a farmer’s market, alright, the more intense the chill creeped along his back. Strange, he didn’t think he was that bothered by it anymore. Kaden did his best to ignore as he wandered through booths and stands of the Nightshade Market, skimming the goods and wares on display. There were some good looking fruits and vegetables in one, some pastries and bread in another, something he couldn’t quite make out across the way that seemed almost like-- no, it couldn’t be blood over there, right? Kaden’s eyes shot away as he caught sight of a booth full of cheese and meat. Perfect. He stepped up to the stand and started picking through what he wanted. How much cheese was too much cheese? Did a limit even exist? He shuddered at the thought. 

No, it was something else. This was his hunter senses, it had to be. It felt as if every hair on his body was standing straight up, all his nerves on overdrive. This was White Crest at night, though, he should have expected this. Probably good to get the goods and leave quickly. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, a woman stepped up to the stand beside him and it felt like ants crawling down his spine. Kaden turned to get a look at her. She had to be a shapeshifter of some sort to set him off like this at the very least. His brows furrowed as he recognized her. It was hard to place from where, though. All he could remember was that he was fairly certain she wasn’t supernatural; he’d have felt that when he ran into her before. Quickly, he glanced behind him and to his other side. It must have been someone nearby that set his senses off, right? There were some people around, sure, but no one quite close enough. Still, he had to know that he would have figured this out before. “Sorry,” he asked, interrupting her shopping, “do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar.”

Since being introduced to the wonders that were cured meats, Alcher had found herself visiting the Nightshade Farmer’s Market much more often. She remembered, still, the time she’d run into that nymph here, but since returning, she hadn’t seen the fae again. That was alright by her. The visit she’d paid with Luis had been one of relief and enjoyment, and she wanted to keep that feeling alive in her memory more so than the other one. It wasn’t the market’s fault, after all, that she’d happened upon the one nymph whose hunter father she’d killed. It was a nice place, after all, and it bore many fruit. Both literally and figuratively, though Alcher wasn’t much one for metaphors. Learning this language was hard enough, throwing in metaphors always made her head spin a little. 

Tonight, however, was a special night. With the promise of Murphy coming to stay at her place, and of Ariana being back, Alcher was vibrating, practically brimming with a pride she thought might’ve been lost in the months after her heart had been taken from her. Something she was still searching for, of course, but something she felt she could overcome, now. With the promise of a pack, a real pack, she couldn’t help but let her heart soar. And so, she was here, at the market, ready to buy some of the cured venison she’d come to love, with the little bit of money she’d been able to make over the past few weeks doing odd jobs around town. Human society was still a strange place for her, working to receive paper compensation that she could then exchange for other goods, instead of simply working for the goods she required themselves. She came up to the stand, glancing around for a moment, before a voice beside her pulled her away from her selections. She turned to find a familiar face. “Ah, the um-- coffee shop, I believe,” she said, glancing at him. What was he doing here? She hadn’t smelled much on him last time that would’ve placed him as supernatural. “You are the Frenchman,” she reminded herself, accent thick with her native tongue. “Ada.” She beamed a smile.

Memories ran through Kaden’s mind as he tried to pick out the one that might stick. Coffee shop. He went there a lot; saw a lot of people there. Her accent, though, that did it. “Yeah, that’s me. Polish, right?” He gave her a nod to her smile. “Kaden,” he offered. His thumb ran over the package of swiss he was holding, wrapped in plastic, still cold. Strange, he had been behind her in line that one time a while back and he didn’t feel anything coming from her, no indication that she might be anything other than human. His lips pressed together as the corners of his mouth pulled back, lost in thought. There was no mistaking what he felt; there was some sort of monster nearby and he could feel it in his bones that it had to be a werewolf. It had to be. His eyes met hers again. There was no way it could be here, right? “So what brings you out here tonight? Kind of a strange little market here in the middle of the woods and all.” 

The man next to her was much more tense than last time, and Alcher had a few theories why. She wondered which would prove right, but he was at a supernatural market, perhaps she was just being paranoid. She smiled. “Lovely to re-meet you,” she said, offering him a hand. That was what normal humans did, right? Shake one another’s hands? She kept her innocent smile up and held up the bag of cured meats she bought. “It seems to be the only market in town that makes jerky the way I enjoy it like back home,” she explained simply. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it also wasn’t the full truth. She didn’t owe a stranger the full truth, anyway. “I am glad I ran into you, though. I can thank you properly, now, for your coffee suggestion. I enjoyed it quite a bit.” Her eyes dropped to his hands, and the object he held. “What brings you out here?”

Her hand hovered there in front of her. A minute ago, Kaden wouldn’t have hesitated. Now he wondered what would happen when he did reach his hand out towards hers. His eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tightening as suspicion crept onto his face before he could wipe it clean. “Nice to re-meet you, too,” he said, pulling the corner of his mouth up as much as he could manage before shaking her hand. There was no mistaking it. A chill shot through him, the hair on his arm stood straight up. The air was still, there was no way to blame this on the wind. His stomach churned and it was hard not to yank his hand away. But this wasn’t the first time Kaden had crossed a werewolf in human skin in public; he knew how to fake it. At least a little. He dropped his gaze down to the jerky. It might have looked alright if the disgust wasn’t boiling in his stomach. “Ah, makes sense,” he said, holding up his cheese. “This is the only place I can get cheese worth buying. Almost as good as at home.” Commonality was more caustic than any differences he could throw out between them. He shook his hand out, trying to make it look like he was just cold, nothing more, but in truth he felt like crawling out of his own skin. “Oh, yeah, the coffee. Of course, you’re welcome. If there’s one thing I know, it’s coffee. And cheese.” He stopped himself before giving her a recommendation. It seemed too normal, too human. And he was talking to a monster.   

The market often overwhelmed Alcher with smells, and she’s always found it grounding to focus on one. Pick one out that she enjoyed, one that was stronger than the others, and let it pull her away from the overload of others. She wanted to focus on the smell of jerky in her hands, the thick musk it carried, of blood, of muscle, of iron. But instead her nose caught a different scent, subtle, but one that she’d trained herself to pick out of any environment– silver. And it was close. It was on the man in front of her. She clasped his hand and gave a smile, hiding the thoughts behind her eyes. A hunter, here? In the supernatural market? Was he truly looking for cheese, or was he scouting his next target? He’d have neither, if Alcher had anything to say about it. But the publicity of this place was too much. If she attacked here, if either of them attacked here, it would cause too much of a scene. She licked her lips. “Home is…France, correct?” she said, something like a memory forming in the back of her mind. She’d been in France for a little bit, once long ago. About fifteen years now, perhaps a bit more. “I have been there once,” she went on with a nod, “lovely place. Never tried the cheese, though. Is it really that good?”

When Kaden went to speak, he realized the vice grip he had through his jaw, loosening it a bit before answering her. “Oui, France.” He did his best to keep his teeth from locking together again, to keep his gaze neutral, unbothered. “You have? What a coincidence.” There were plenty of questions forming in the back of his mind; when did you visit? How long? What for? Did you muder anyone while you were there? But this wasn’t an interrogation; he had to be careful not to tip his hat too far. Not something he had ever been good at. Kaden knew that espionage was important, that tracking a kill was part of hunting, but he always much preferred the action, the end. The rest was tense, tenuous, like the air between them now. Cheese, right. She’d asked about cheese. “Yeah, it’s worth the price, certainly. It’s not made like it is over here. The milk just isn’t right, I guess. Who knows.” This was stupid, chatting about cheese with a werewolf centimeters away from him. But this was too public, too open. Nothing he could do. “Remind me, how’d you end up on this side of the Atlantic anyhow?”

“I have been all over Europe, actually,” Alcher corrected, with a shallow smile. Humans rarely understood that the pheromones they put off changed when stressed or happy or sad. The air around them shifted to tense. As hard as he tried, Alcher could still feel it. She’d play this game as long as he wanted to, though. She was trying to do better, after all. For Ariana, for Murphy, for Kitty. Her little pack was coming together so nicely, there was no need to mess it up on a hunch. Hunters were still on her kill list, of course they were, but she musn’t act rashly. She had pups who relied on her again. She wanted to be stable for them, unlike how she’d been before. She flashed a toothy smile. “Ah, see, it has always been the milk that gets me. I am not good with it.” Though the exact words once again escaped her. She’d forgotten what they called it in English. It hardly mattered, though. She gave pause. “I do not believe I ever said, actually. I have…family in Canada. I stayed with them for a while before heading out on my own. Thought I might like to find a place to settle.” She shifted her weight from her good leg to the prosthetic. It creaked just a little. “What about you?”

“Me, too, now you mention,” Kaden answered. The tones of pleasantry were only painted thinly onto his words now, unlike their meeting at the coffee shop way back. How had he missed it then? A punch of doubt hit him. No, there was no mistaking it, the sensation he felt when shaking her hand, the one he still felt now crawling around under his skin. If he could shake it away, he would.He did have another way to resolve, of course. A little more definitively. He sucked at his cheek, holding his words back at her comment on the milk. No shit she couldn’t tolerate it, given what she was. “Shame, you’re missing out,” he said instead. It was tempting to just solve the issue here and now, get it over with, kill the creeping feeling shooting through him. Being this nice to a monster made his stomach churn. It was hard to imagine how he tolerated this around Ari. But that was different. She wasn’t a monster, she had herself under control; she wasn’t like the rest. He could ignore the disgust his senses brought him around her. But not now. “Makes sense,” he said, scratching at his forearm. “Me? Ended up in Montreal to visit some con– friends,” he corrected. “Then got a lead on the animal control position here. Seemed like a good fit. So here I am.” Perhaps he’d revealed too much. It wouldn’t matter for too long either way. 

His brow raised at the strange creaking sound he heard from just across him. Had it come from her? Kaden couldn’t place what it was, but he could certainly place what direction it came from. “You alright?” he asked, stomach churning slightly at even the suggestion of having concern for the monster in front of him.

Though it was still late afternoon, Alcher could already feel the wolf brimming on the inside of her. That energy, that power, that instinct. To run, to hunt, to kill. It vibrated under her skin. Moreso with the hunter’s confession, confirming her suspicion. Not just a hunter, a ranger. She ran her tongue over her teeth, letting one side of her mouth curl up. It’d been so long since she’d killed a ranger. Wardens and slayers were easy, they caved under her claws like wet paper– but rangers were a challenge. They knew how she operated, they had defenses against her claws, her teeth. They were exciting. Thrilling, even. The smile on her face was now genuine, though perhaps not for the reasons others around might think it for. “Animal control? That must be dangerous in a town like this,” she stated, tucking the meat she’d bought into her side satchel. That way it would stay safe if she had to change. She tilted her head at his question, then realized he’d heard the creak of her old prosthetic, worn with age. “Oh, yes, I am fine,” she said, tugging up the bottom of her pant leg to reveal the plastic. “Just this old thing. I have been meaning to see about getting a new one.” She stood back up straighter, to her full height, and looked at him with unblinking eyes. “Strange how you heard such a quiet noise in all this chatter.”

“It is. But I’m tougher than most.” Kaden’s fist tightened by his side, releasing only long enough to relieve some pressure from his fingernails digging into his palm. It was likely that the pieces were falling into place. She was older for a wolf. No doubt she was well experienced with taking care of herself. Across many countries, too. Either good at running or good at fighting. Maybe both. As far as he was concerned, that streak was going to end with him.

When she revealed her leg, surprise washed over Kaden’s face before his brows knit together, lost in thought. A prosthetic leg. That was what he heard. He blinked. A werewolf missing a leg. Mina had come across a wolf missing a leg in town. So had he. He’d run into the wolf that had killed his parents, he knew it. It was months ago, but he knew what he and Oscar had faced. A pit plummeted into his stomach just before he could feel the heat of anger rising in him. There was no more release from his fingernails into his palms, small white crescents would be dug into them for hours after he left the market. He nearly missed what she had said through his white hot rage. “Huh?” There was no shaking this off, no pretending there had been any pleasantries. He had to be wrong about his assumptions, he had to. There was no way he had met this Ada before and didn’t know, didn’t know instantly even upon meeting her tonight. It was impossible. And yet… “Right. Hearing’s pretty good. Comes in handy sometimes.” It was tempting to just reach for his knife. Fuck being in public, fuck it all. He didn’t care. His revenge was standing a few meters away. “When did you say you were in France, again?” It couldn’t be true. It would be both too simple and too complicated. The easier solution was that he was wrong, leaping to conclusions. And yet, this town would be just fucked up enough to set this scenario for him.

“So I can tell,” Alcher grinned, “you must have to be to do your job. Lot of dangerous animals around.” Something shifted in the hunter when he saw her prosthetic, and Alcher had to wonder what it might be. She’d killed so many people throughout her life, it was hard for her to remember or pinpoint a face, a person, a child. This man meant nothing to her, other htan that he was a hunter, and she killed hunters. She tilted her head again, crossing her arms over her chest. “Let’s see,” she said, tapping her foot, “it must have been at least a decade ago, decade and a half, even. I was quite young. I was looking for someone who owed me something.” And she wasn’t entirely lying. The Langley’s had owed her their blood for taking her own. 

“Plenty.” Kaden could feel his blood boiling through his veins. “You don’t say,” he said, words low and barely pushed out through his teeth. Decade and a half. Funny that. He remembered that long ago in France. He remembered it all too well. 

As far as Kaden was concerned, there was no one else there at that market. Just the two of them. A hunter and their mark. Standing so close. One move would be all it took to end it. To be done. But the reality was that they weren’t the only ones there. Who cared. Let them lock him up. Let them take him away. It wouldn’t matter. He’d have completed his mission. His mind flashed to Regan, to Morgan, to Clay, and Ari as his hand hovered over the pocket where his silver blade was. All his life he had so little to lose. Up until now. The monster across from him wasn’t worth losing his whole life. Again. “Interesting. Last time I called Lyon home was about that long ago. Seventeen years to be precise. When my parents died.” He huffed a breath, too angry for it to even remotely resemble a laugh. “Died is putting it lightly. Mauled, actually. Beast of some sort. That’s what the coroner said at least.”

“Strange,” Alcher replied, and her skin prickled and she nearly itched to change. Sure, there were people around, but when had she ever cared about others? Well, she had started to, recently. Not just wolves, but other species. Never human, though. Never hunter. She had enough control of herself to know she wouldn’t hurt an innocent, but if she engaged, the hunter might. Still, she let the feeling crawl into her hands and felt nails sharpening ever so slightly. “How curious. We must’ve been in the same place at the same time.” She scratched her chin and leaned back against one of the poles holding up the tent they were standing under. Contemplating. Trying to remember. “Ah, yes,” she said, nodding finally, “I remember now. Why you look so familiar.” Her eyes narrowed as she cast her gaze back onto the hunter. “You look just like your mother.” Alcher remembered everyone she killed– their faces, their scents. But more than that, she remembered the one she spared. He’d grown up so much.

Kaden’s hand wrapped around the grip of his knife before she had finished saying the word mother. He was going to slice the word right from her lips, right out of her throat. He didn’t get the chance. As soon as he lunged forward, screams erupted behind them. Crashing and banging clattered around them as the tents and goods went flying. People began stampeding in all directions, trying to avoid whatever the fuck was going on. Before he could peak around the tent to see what the hell the commotion was about, something slammed into his legs, knocking him back into the tent pole. He didn’t see anything, but there was no mistaking that some sort of force was tearing through the display and pushing past crowds.And eating the cheese? No, putain, that wasn’t important, he couldn’t lose it. He couldn’t lose the monster, not now after all these years. He was so fucking close. Kaden scrambled to stand up, only to feel something slice at his leg. Still, he saw nothing. What the fuck? He kicked out and somehow managed to hit whatever the fuck was there in front of him. But where was his mark? 

Alcher was also moving the second she saw his knife moving. But she hadn’t needed to swipe. Somebody screamed, and then another. And then the entire alley was screaming and shouting and Alcher took the opportunity to duck and bolt. She was not fast on two feet, but she could easily escape if she could find a place to change. She found a side street, shoving others aside as she watched people fall and be trampled or shoved. Invisible forces were tearing apart stands and people and Alcher could smell sulfur and dirt in the air. Something unseen. An invisible enemy. The perfect distraction. She darted into a back alley, glancing over her shoulder, trying to sniff out the hunter in all the chaos. Maybe if she could catch him alone, she could take him out here and now. But she couldn’t smell him, not with all the new scents erupting in the air as people began panicking. She ducked behind a dumpster and closed her eyes, and let the beast begin to take over.

Kaden pushed himself up and shoved through the crowd, jostled by people fleeing, tripping over invisible monsters, tumbling into broken tents and shop items. No. He was close. He was too close. He’d find it. He just had to find where she went. His head spun around, looking for any sign. Every person looked like her and none at all. A scream tore through him, but no one noticed. In the chaos and confusion, it was nothing but another scream among dozens. He tried to use his sense, tried to let the prickling beneath his skin guide him, but it was no use. He couldn’t tell left from right. It felt like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere at all. The crowd was done letting him go against the flow away from the market and he was swept up with them out of the alleys and away towards the open. Fine, he ran with them instead of against them. He’d check the perimeter. He’d find the beast outside of the crowd. He’d find her and kill it once and for all. The sharp smell of iron hung in the air, people were scared and hurt, unseen monsters attacking them. It was his duty to help. His duty didn’t matter right now. Only revenge. But it felt like it was slipping away again, like it had time and time again. 

Alcher felt muscle and sinew rip, bone crack, as she released the beast inside of her. Fur coated her body and limbs stretched. She let out a hideous growl, ferocious and low, as her transformation completed and she felt the invisible creatures climbing up her body. Jaws snapped down on them, tossing the creatures from her body into stalls and people and through windows. She raced out into the street, shoving through the crowd and towards the treeline. A hunger grew in her. People screamed as they saw her and it only made her more excited, claws tearing up the ground as she went. She skidded to a stop, though, just shy of the treeline and turned her head to look back at the crowd. She could smell him. The Langley boy. She’d never forget his scent. Golden eyes stared through the sea of people as she watched his form turn into nothing more than a blob of color. If a wolf could smile, she would be. Things were about to get fun. Finally, her revenge could be complete. A lesson to teach Murphy– never spare anyone. Not even a child.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Dead Things || Morgan & Kaden

@chasseurdeloup

Just two friends having a walk in the woods. Guest-starring Ashley the Zombie!

It surprised Morgan that Kaden would choose her to walk in the woods with to let off steam and vent safely. It seemed like the sort of thing to do with a girlfriend, but maybe Regan and her denial blinders were a little much for him just now. And for all the times Morgan had been driven to sign off on him with a ‘fuck you’ on her lips, she did consider them to be friends of a certain kind. He was kind at heart, kinder than he let on even to himself. He had his anger, which Morgan still couldn’t quite fit her head around, but if his life had been anything like Deirdre’s, he had plenty of reason to be. She’d wished he had suggested a place a little less spooky than the woods, but it wasn’t like she could enjoy anything from the counter at Coffee Plus. Morgan reached out with what senses she had and tried to remember the comfort they’d once given her. The sanctity of nature. Never judging, always open to her. The soft earth, ready to take her body back some day. Did it welcome them now? Did either of them know how to fit in a space as simple and open as this?

“Shucks, Kaden,” Morgan teased, “I didn’t think you’d ever ask me to meet you like this. If you’d given me more time I’d have made us BFF bracelets.” She elbowed him gently as they walked. “What’s been up with you?”

There had been a few moments of calm in Kaden’s life the past week. But something about it felt more ominous than comforting. Even though it was a new moon and it should be the calmest time of the month, something felt off. He couldn’t say what. Maybe he just wasn’t used to peace and quiet. Hell even most of his assignments had been normal. It was possible that was why he felt the need to lean into the weird of hanging out with a supernatural friend. Though, to be honest, he was short on non-supernatural friends at the moment. And no matter how many times him and Morgan went head to head over things, there was something, enough easy rhythm, especially when sharing the realities of having banshee girlfriends; a strange commonality and bond he never expected to have or share with anyone else. Leave it to White Crest.

The mention of friendship bracelets pierced through him as he thought of the stupid leather braclet on his wrist. His nose scrunched a little even though he tried to hide it. He hadn’t planned on bringing up Celeste. Or having to dwell on death for a moment. Hopefully she didn’t catch it, assumed it was an overreaction to her elbow. “Well I’d say a friendship bracelet with me is a death sentence but I guess that’s not a problem is it?” Putain. Fine. Just fucking lean into it. Why not? “I figured we could both use a non-carcass walk every now and then.” He gave a small shrug. “And nothing much. No clue what the fuck I’m doing with my life but I guess that’s just what White Crest does to you.”

“Wow. I was kidding, but I didn’t think you’d give me literal stink-eye,” Morgan said, rolling her eyes. “What, are you afraid the big bad world isn’t ready for us? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” She pretended to be scandalized, gasping and clutching her imaginary pearls, but she could feel herself skirting close to a kind of truth that lay between them. They couldn’t exactly gather round a foosball table with his hunter friends anymore than she could bring him to a movie night with Remmy and Skylar. Granted, her friends wouldn’t ever try to kill him, but that wasn’t a path she should be going down when they were supposed to be enjoying each other’s company critter-free. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she huffed. “Every walk I take is a carcass walk.” She turned to face him, tilting her head so far to one side it threatened to dislocate her neck. “If you have beef with the dead, you really came to the wrong zombie.” She smirked, her smile growing wider as she kept their pace along the path, backwards now. She righted her head and rolled her shoulders. That had helped with muscle strain before, right? “You’re too easy to mess with sometimes. But, I can be serious if you need to talk about big things. Life isn’t for having all the answers, though. It’s not a performance, you know? We learn things. We try. We--”

An animal roared in the distance. It didn’t sound like any creature Morgan knew, but what else could it be? She looked over at Kaden. Did he hear that too? She turned in the direction of the sound. Something was lumbering through the underbrush, something big.

Kaden let out a sigh through his throat. “Very funny. I’m just saying my quota of friendship bracelets from dead girls is officially one. Spot’s taken, you’re too late,” he said, elbowing her back. “So quit your dramatics.” If anyone was going to be okay joking about death, it was Morgan. He knew that much. Honestly, it was nice to have second that he wasn’t just fucking sad about it all. And it was only a second because he looked over to see her fucking head turned around like some kind of horror movie. “Putain de merde, do you have to do that?” His face scrunched in disgust as he turned it away from her. It definitely didn’t turn like that, thank god, but it wasn’t quite enough to avoid the fucking scene of her putitng her head right. His mind flashed to Bea’s head in a jar and if he didn’t feel sick before, he sure did now. “At least warn me before you do.” Yeah he knew that wasn't going to happen.

Unsurprisingly, she had a deep answer to his dumb question. Or he was pretty sure she would have it hadn’t stopped paying attention as soon as he heard a wail. Inhuman, for sure. His stomach dropped. Again. She wasn’t going to like this. At least not if his suspicions were correct. Without thinking, his hand reached back to the knife in his pocket and he positioned himself between her and the rustling in the foliage. Another roar and the creature broke through the bush. A decaying, hungry zombie, shambling towards them. He leapt to act. There was only one thing to do with a monster.

“I didn’t even break anything,” Morgan grumbled, pouting. “And isn’t it good for me to have a positive relationship with my new body? Don’t you want the best for me, Kaden?” But, honestly, it was probably a good thing he hadn’t become completely inured to how dead dead-bodies could be, especially hers. Positioning herself in proximity to human existence was a losing game, but for Kaden...maybe it was the best he could do right now. “I want the best for you too, obviously,” she added, more sincerely.

But the moment was shattered by the figure that leapt out from the underbrush. Morgan recognized her at once. She had only seen her ruined face a few days ago in the cemetery with Rio. “A-ashley--?” She moved forward, but Ashley’s face was too rotted and glazed with hunger to give any intelligible response. She groaned from somewhere deep in her hungry belly and shambled forward, one arm half raised with want. Animals didn’t last long on a dead stomach, even the feast they’d given her, but Stars, she’d hoped Ashley would have at least lasted longer once she was herself again. Her path was clear, but Morgan wasn’t going to go any easier on her now. “Ashley don’t--!” She jumped into her path, holding her by the shoulders and digging in her heels. But Morgan had fed too recently since the last time they’d met, and her muscles were quickly meeting their limit. “Kaden! Help me!” She cried.

There was no doubt in Kaden’s mind what was headed towards him was a monster. The decaying hungry zombie was nothing more than undead bones and decay searching for flesh and organs to tear into. His knife was ready and he was prepared to run in and take care of the situation before this became a problem when Morgan put herself in front of him and started speaking. Did she just say a name? “Wait, do you know that thing?” His stomach fell watching the shambling gaunt body. He wanted to pull Morgan away and just get this over with but she ran towards it and  put herself right in harm’s way. Sure, she was a zombie, too, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get hurt ever. Putain.

He ran over and wanted to tear her from the threat but it was clear she was fighting her hardest to keep it at bay. Which didn’t exactly bode well. Kaden ran around behind the monster and grabbed its shoulders, pulling back. He’d have to find a way to cut off its head, a knife seemed impractical but it would have to d-- Before he could even consider that, the zombie rounded on him and lunged for his neck. Fuck. He raised his hand and threw a punch in its decaying face, trying to get it away from him. But it was fucking determined. His eyes went wide as he watched the teeth come closer and braced his arm to try and keep it away. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Her name is Ashley!” Morgan snapped. What had she been doing this whole time? Sure, the animal food she’d been given wasn’t going to last long, but she’d had time to hunt or buy or even steal something. Did she not know how? Did she not feel like she could? Morgan gripped the zombie tighter, wrestling against her brute force-- and then she whirled on Kaden, teeth bared.

“Don’t hurt him!” It was the stupidest thing she could’ve said. Ashley didn’t even have enough brain cells to string together who she was. There was no way anything like pleading was going to work right now. Morgan barreled into her from the side, sending them both sprawling to the ground. She pinned her to the forest floor by the shoulder, but Ashley roared and wrenched herself up before she could make her position any more secure. The flesh from Ashley’s arm came straight off and Morgan stared helplessly as the dead limb lay in her grasp. “Shit,” she hissed, scrambling back to her feet to follow the hungry zombie. She was making a beeline right for the hunter and Morgan wasn’t sure if she’d be able to tackle her in time if he didn’t move. “Kaden, get back!” she cried.

“Her what?!” Kaden yelled as he pushed his forearm into the monster’s neck. Putain, it didn’t matter what flesh the teeth connected with, just that they did. His stomach flipped furiously. The thought of being undead was far worse than the threat of death. He may be immune to werewolf bites, but zombies and vampires were still on the table. He could feel his pulse pounding in his chest. And fuck, he’d like it to keep fucking doing so. Desperately, Kaden took his knife and rammed it into the monster’s guts over and over, intestines and rotting flesh tumbling out of its side. It was barely holding itself together anymore but all the same, he was fucking panicking just a bit.

Before he knew it, the monster was thrown away from him by Morgan’s body. Okay. Alright, He had to find something to behead it with. Something more effective than a knife. Shoe lace? No, that would take too long. Morgan could only keep it at bay so long and he had a feeling she wasn’t about to try and kill her “friend.” “I thought you said not all zombies fucking knew each other,” he grumbled as he pulled his belt from his pants. Not great, but it would fucking do.”Mo--” Kaden was about to yell at her to get out of the way but he didn’t have to, the monster was lunging at him all the same. He didn’t listen to his friend and kicked out at the zombie and went to wrap the belt around its neck.

“I just fucking asked her!” Morgan was running as fast as her legs would take her. She could do this. Kaden was bound to have something to restrain Ashley with until they could get her food again. He could hunt her as many deer as she needed. She just needed to get the two of them apart long enough for him to understand what the plan was. She grabbed Ashley from behind, tugging her back as hard as she could by her shirt and wrestling an arm around her neck. “What part of ‘get back’ was hard for you?” She grunted at Kaden. “She’s just starving!” She dragged Ashley back several paces, grimacing as she wriggled and bit at her skin. Her grip loosened as Ashley took a deep chunk out of her arm, and it was all she could do to push the zombie off her feet as she stumbled free. “Give me that,” she said, pulling on the belt in his hands. “You need to run for some fresh deer, or brains, or--fuck!” She hit the ground hard. Ashely’s hand was around her leg, pulling her down with a strength Morgan couldn’t compete against with her humanity intact. “Kaden, what are you doing?”

Kaden really didn’t give a shit if this zombie was hungry or not, but Morgan sure did. And it was hindering him from doing his job. She seemed to insist that she knew this monster and it was very hard for him to care when all he saw were teeth coming towards him, hell bent on tearing into his flesh. “Deer?! You think deer are going to solve this?!” He was just about to solve this his way when Morgan yanked the belt away and he was once again without a way to take care of the problem quickly or easily. Putain. Morgan was down and while deep down he knew that the other zombie couldn’t really hurt her, he didn’t want to risk it. But he had no confidence that Morgan could keep the zombie contained on her own. Kaden reached over and pulled the zombie away from his friend. Or tried to. All he got was a fist full of flesh that had pulled off the bones. “She’s too far gone, Morgan.” The monster turned and hands wrapped around his arm as it pulled at him, teeth coming dangerously close once again. This time he was ready and had his knife braced against its neck. The closer it came to him, the more of its head he hoped he’d sever. It was hungry alright. Hopefully starving to death.

“I don’t know, maybe two of them?” Morgan wrestled with Ashley on the ground. It shouldn’t have been this hard to overpower a woman who was falling apart, but she was still fierce enough to knock Morgan’s bones out of place every time she thought she had the upper hand. And Kaden wasn’t running. Morgan didn’t know how to get it through his thick skull that what she needed wasn’t a rescue, but zombie tofu. “You’re too far gone,” she said through gritted teeth. “Just get her something--no!” Kaden’s knife glared in the twilight around them, slicing deep into Ashley’s neck. Morgan reached out for them from the ground with her broken arms. “Stop! She doesn’t know what she’s doing!” She popped them back into place and scrambled up. Ashley’s neck had been sawed away down to the bone, so fragile and bare for all her thrashing. No one should look like that, she thought. No one’s bones were meant to be bared that way, with rotten flesh staining the surface brown and dripping over the rounded ends. The body protected the bones. All of this was wrong… “Kaden, don’t!”

The knife cut deep into her neck and the stench that came from the rotting severed neck was enough to make him gag. Kaden held it back and kept pushing the knife through. It slid and slipped through what was left of the muscle and then the bone. The monster backed off and started to crumple away. One last whack with the knife and there would be no way for it to regenerate. He was about to do it when Morgan spoke up. All of the fear he felt before was burning away with anger. “No.” It was all he said before taking that final chop to her head, the tenuous connection between the body and it finally removed. All that was left was two piles of disgusting decay. It smelled like the reverse garden in the back of Regan’s apartment, maybe worse. Even before the head was gone, there wasn’t much keeping this together.

“We should burn what’s left.” He frankly didn’t give a shit if she was okay with that or not. Now that he had a moment, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Morgan had said earlier. All of it. “Just get her something, huh? Something to eat?” He could feel the impression of the knife handle pushing into his palm as he gripped it tighter. “Like what? Me?!” He was so close to getting bitten so many times and here she was concerned about a fucking monster. “You knew her, didn’t you? Met her before? You knew her name.” His voice raised louder every fucking sentence. He kicked a lump of decayed flesh away from his shoe. He wanted to kick the fucking corpse but he didn’t feel like trying his luck. “You knew she was like this and you let her--” There was so much he wanted to scream about that he couldn’t even pick where to fucking start. He threw the knife blad first into the ground, making sure it fucking sank in instead. “Morgan what the fuck?!”

“No!” The cry was barely a sound in Morgan’s dead throat as Kaden lobbed off the woman’s head. She stared, mute and trembling, at the remains of her body. All the magic that had been holding her together was gone. There were only masses of green and purple rot and the poor bones that couldn’t hold themselves together anymore. Kaden was yelling, but Morgan couldn’t hold on to any of his words for more than a few moments. “I--I met her once,” she said faintly. “I got her some food. I fed her. It was just...a stupid faun, and the butcher’s whole stock of brains and organs. She...she was scared. I think she was scared. But I don’t know why she didn’t…” Take care of herself. Feed herself. Come up with something better than roaming the woods. Morgan shuddered, thinking of how deep her pit had to be for her to choose living this way, to run away from people who wanted to help. “She ran away before I could do anything more.” Her eyes filled with tears as she finally looked at Kaden, teeming with his hunter rage. “I wasn’t going to let her hurt you. She wasn’t even trying to hurt you, she was just...I don’t know. She was lost, Kaden. Haven’t you ever been lost and stupid?”

“You could barely hold on to her! And your fucking help before led to this!” Kaden said, pointing that the pile of decomposed flesh and bones. “She wasn’t trying to hurt me, she was trying to eat me. I was fucking two seconds from getting bit. A couple of times.” A chill ran through him. There were few fates he could imagine that were worse than being undead. Morgan had adjusted or what-fucking-ever she wanted to call it, but it was the last thing he wanted for himself. And he wasn’t immune. He rolled the muscles of his shoulder blades back, trying to ground himself, pull back. “Lost and stupid was going to fucking kill me, Morgan. If I didn’t-- She was going to eat me. You fucking saw that, right? Putain, if I didn’t have hunter strength--” He gave a small shake of his head. He was so fucking sure she didn’t see it or didn’t care. “What if she came across someone who wasn’t us? What if-- She would have killed them. That’s not some ‘lost stupid’ mistake,” he spat out. “That would be murder. Fucking murder, Morgan. You fail at rehab with monsters and it ends in murder.” He took a deep breath and reached donw for his fucking knife. He wanted to just leave. “This isn’t some fucking game you get to play at.”  

“She is not a monster!” Morgan cried, her voice cracking in her stiff throat. “She was a person, Kaden. Not a ‘this’ or a thing or a--whatever else someone told you she is! She is like me, Kaden! She’s just as much of a person as me! It’s not her fault what her brain does to her when she’s starving, we don’t even know how much of a choice she had! And now we’re never going to because you couldn’t see past the end of your knife long enough to think of a better solution!” She pointed at the body, shaking her head furiously. He couldn’t even feel bad for her. He couldn’t even mourn what he’d taken away from the world. He couldn’t even see her. “That’s murder, Kaden. Not your hypothetical hunter crap. That.”

“That. Wasn’t a person. Not anymore. And it was going to kill me. I’m really glad to know a pile of rotten flesh is worth more to you than--” Kaden couldn’t even finish his sentence. It hurt too much to hear out loud. And he knew the fucking answer already. How often had he seen supernaturals value each other’s lives over human’s? It made him sick. Potential zombie life valued more than a living, breathing human. “There was no time for a better fucking solution. And your attempt at a better fucking solution however long ago your little intervention was clearly didn’t work. She ended up like this.” He was ready to walk away and be done. He was so fucking tired of being told he was wrong for fighting for human life.

“Yes, she was! Ashley was sick, Kaden! People get sick and say and do hurtful things when they’re sick all the time. And we don’t murder them for it, we put them in hospitals! And plenty of your people, your fucking humans do them stone cold sober!” Morgan backed away from Kaden, her insides crawling with disgust. He seemed to come so far and when they were joking around or having their heart to hearts everything between them could feel so nice. She always forgot that to him she was just an exception to a rule about creatures, worse than the dogs he wrangled up for his day job. “But, you know, good job. I’m sure it’ll make a great story to tell all the guys over a beer someday. You showed that starving girl who’s boss all by yourself. If you don’t mind, though, I’m gonna pass on whatever you have lined up next.”

“Sick? What the fuck, Morgan? Sick?!” Kaden was walking away when he heard that, but he turned on his heel to walk back to her. Were they even talking about the same fucking event anymore? Had she even been there just now? “A starving girl? Is that how you think of that?” he shouted pointing once again at the pile of decomp between them. “That was a zombie. Who was very fucking hellbent on eating me.” The more she spoke the clearer it was to him that she didn’t get it. That she saw no value to him or what he did, what had to happen, the reality of things. She had some rose colored zombie glasses or something, he couldn’t figure it out. “You know what, have fun on your walk with your friend there. Because it’s apparently not me. Hope she’s better fucking company. Considering she was higher on your fucking priority list.”