Nightly Howls

by Madeline Blake

  But then, there is a crack that stops my heart.

  The tree suddenly snaps, the red energy possessing it still. The breaking of the suddenly colossal tree surprises me; with its newfound strength, it seemed to be invincible. It almost looks to be a deliberate breaking, the now severed trunk cut cleanly and smoothly. How is it doing that? What is going on?

  I hardly notice the tree as the rest of it tumbles towards me, my thought muddled with confusion. It must be the ghost. The ghost is controlling the tree!

  Wait... I glance upwards, at the blur of speed as it travels to squish me. "Oh no," I whisper, my voice shriveled and weak. I try to scream, but I can't. I am frozen solid with pain, fear, and hate.

  I can’t move.

  I can’t think.

  I really am going to die, aren’t I? No more silly games of hide and seek. Death has found me, sinking his talons into my skin. Glaring at me with his giant red eyes that haunt my memories.

  But what, truly, do I have to live for?

  I think of a certain man, with emeralds for eyes and azure hair that sparkles in the bright sunlight. He would miss me for sure.

  My cheeks burn as a tear runs past my eyelashes, down my chin, onto my ratty clothes. I wonder why I am crying, when I had tried to commit suicide only two days ago. But so much has changed since then. There is so much more...

  Right before the tree hits the ground, squelching me in the process, there is a thump. Glancing upwards, I wonder why I am not dead yet. Why the pain is only inside of me, blinding my thinking. There are no scratches on my arms and legs, only dirt and leaves, making me wonder if this is only a dream. There is no way this can happen in real life. I am just going crazy, imagining such nonsense.

  But then why does my head hurt so much?

  I stagger, scanning the area for the tree with the evil red sparks. Everything is going blurry, the screams blocking everything. My mother’s thin voice, repeating itself over and over and over...

  “Are you okay?” a familiar voice erupts through the void, ripping its way towards my understanding. I blink, my eyes focusing. The masculine voice seems to harness my thoughts and drag it to reality, everything becoming clearer.

  It is then that I notice that the tree is lying to the side of me, held by a man who has saved my life three times in the past two days. His muscled arms bulge as he lays the colossal tree on the ground, his beautiful eyes widening at the red sparks exploding from it. The eyes narrow, his fist drawing back and slamming into the trunk of the tree. There is a boom, shaking me to my knees, like a tiny earthquake. I look up once more, to see the tree almost in splinters. The red is gone, and so is the ghost that vanished into it. How did he do that in one punch?

  The handsome man runs my way, wrapping his firm arms around me concernedly. “Are you okay?” he repeats the question, taking one now gentle finger and stroking some strands of my ruby red hair. I lean against him for a second, dwelling in his warmth and comfort, trying to throw out the endless pain. There is silence, and then the hurt leaves me, only leaving cold memories that stain my heart.

  “How did you do that?” I waste no time, grabbing one of his hands, marveling at the lack of cuts and splinters, “you made a little earthquake!”

  He laughs, “it’s called an Earthquake Punch. It is something werewolves have to train for years and years to attain, and one of the six Talents. Now answer my question.”

  “Well, I’m not hurt, but...” I squeeze his hand tightly, almost delirious with confusion, “what was that ghost thing?”

  His eyes widen, bafflement dancing across his features. “You... saw it?”

  “Yeah. It was so scary, with its bright red eyes...” I shudder, causing him to pull me into a hug. I am too tired to care, although stiffening slightly at his movement.

  “Everything’s okay, Ella,” he murmurs as I bury my face into his chest. I need his warmth, the security he offers. For it seems that I won’t find survival anywhere else. After a while, he slowly breaks apart, leading me with him back the way we both came.

  His form straightens as we walk, I turning away from him in embarrassment. He must think I'm pitiful, always needing to be saved. I used to think of myself as being independent and able to support myself, but this one day has convinced me otherwise.

  The ground beneath us crunches, the leaves producing a snap as they crack. Whispers of the past wind, once a terrible gale, still brush our hair and shoulders, dancing along our skin. I now feel cold and almost emotionless, the pain having eliminated all other feelings. And now that the pain is gone, there is nothing.

  When we finally reach the garden, four miraculous figures come to meet us, each handsome in their own unique way. Wes stares at me, his gaze of concern. “What happened, Nico?” he questions the man beside me, drinking in his face of weariness.

  “A Shifter,” he narrows his eyes, “was on our property.” The stunning men all rear back in surprise, pure disgust lacing through their features.

  “Here?” Jake erupts, his voice furious. Asher shakes his head, Yi looking at the perfectly manicured lawn near his feet. I breathe a quick sigh of relief; I hadn't exited the grounds. Now Nico can't get mad at me.

  "Why didn't you just stay in the garden?" he turns to me, his expression of anger, "if I hadn't look out of the window and seen that gigantic tree, you would have died!"

  Obviously I thought too soon. Nico can get mad at me for anything.

  My eyes narrow, my determination showing through the terror. "What was that white thing?!" I demand, "Tell me now!"

  Asher's eyes widen, his expression suddenly of excitement. "Nico," he begins, "if that girl's a Seer, then we might be able to get ourselves a Spier! Imagine what we would be able to do..."

  "No," he says fiercely, "I won't allow it. Ever." His face is hard and resolute, his hair sparkling in the beating sun. I look up at him, at his lightly tanned skin, straight nose, and absolutely gorgeous eyes, and frown.

  "Tell me," I nearly growl, invoking an irritated glance from wolfboy himself.

  "Okay, we will," he huffs, "come on." He drags me towards the mansion, the others following behind.

  We enter the mansion doors, where I once again am faced with those evil, all knowing eyes. I shut my own in response, not wanting to see their brightness, the terrifying memories they cause. Nico glances upwards with me, but doesn't shy away like I do.

  "Are those what you saw?" he asks. I only nod, trying not to gaze into their fiery depths. His face seems to grow more certain as he walks, though darker than usual. His hand is like a steel bar across my back, not loving and comforting like it usually is... and I hate to admit that I miss it.

  We enter the small room once more, with Nico lifting me up easily and placing my form on the bed. The rest of the pack shuffles inwards, Asher swinging the door shut with a loud clang.

  Immediately the interrogation starts. "How can you see a Shifter?" Yi asks in amazement.

  "Are you a Spier?" Jake stupidly questions, causing a slap from Asher.

  "Wow, Nico, picking a Seer as your mate. Aren't you sly," Wes comments with a slight smirk.

  "Shut up, everybody!" Nico roars, causing even Wes to fall silent, "let's answer Ella's questions first." He peers into my eyes, disarming me with one glance. "Go ahead, Ella," he whispers, somehow making the words seem intimate and exciting, "we will tell you everything you want to know."

  I choke on a breath at his close proximity, pulling away slightly. I tilt my head, wondering what exactly I want to know. What I need to know.

  Might as well start with the basics. "What is that white thing?" I inquire, my voice still shaking from fear of the monster.

  "It is called a Shifter," Wes speaks up, words flowing like melted butter from his lips, "and they are the sworn enemies of werewolves. They are creatures of chaos, death, and misery, with eyes that mirror true hell. Invisible to the human and werewolf eye, the only way to detect a Shifter in its true form is to smell it. We are the only species that has
a powerful enough sense of smell."

  "However," Nico jumps in, "there are some humans able to see these Shifters. We call them Seers. Usually this sight is caused by a near death accident that a Shifter is involved in. That's you, Ella."

  I think back to those burning memories, full of bitterness, fear, and hate. I can remember it now... the white cloud with those terrible eyes, floating in front of me right before wreaking havoc upon us all.

  "A Seer can be awakened to become a Spier," Asher says, his voice tinged with excitement, "one of the six Talents!"

  "What is a Spier?" I ask, gazing at the way Nico's face turns hard at Asher's words. I grow even more interested, noting his discomfort.

  "A Spier is able to conjure a spirit spear, and kill a Shifter in its true form. One can be aligned with every pack, and would complete our own. With you, we would have the six Talents," He gestures to the four werewolves surrounding him, "Yi is a budding Stealth Talent, which means he can turn fully invisible when he finally develops his skill. Jake is a Sabretooth Talent, which means he has long, retractable claws that are somewhat like a Sabretooth Tiger's teeth. Nico is an Earthquake Punch Talent, which pretty much explains itself, and Wes is a Charm Talent. He can charm his opponent within a couple of seconds, and almost hypnotize them into doing his will. And I... I am a Beast Talent."

  "What's that?" I wonder, staring into Asher's almost perfect face, stained with a darkness I can’t quite explain. He is a mirror image of Nico, but yet they are they so different. How can this be?

  "When I morph, I can truly be a beast," he says softly, his menacing eyes scouring my skin. Under his gaze, I feel tingles of terror shiver through my spine.

  "Anyways," Wes says, slinging a graceful arm around my thin shoulders, "what else would you like us to explain?"

  "How do you become a Spier?" I wonder, "do you have to be a werewolf? It seems cool..." Spirit spears? The chance to abolish my parent's murderers, the ones that deprived me of a happy childhood? Everything seems too crazy, too wild to believe. But somehow, I know that it all is true every time I gaze into their emerald eyes.

  "No," Nico states fiercely, "you are not going to be one. Don't tell her, Asher."

  Asher looks at Nico with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. "She deserves to know," he replies, "she made the choice when she decided to run into the forest in the very beginning." His brown hair glimmers as he makes his way towards me, his emerald eyes unblinking. "You do not have to be a werewolf, yet you will gain immortality. You will be with your loved one forever-"

  "I said NO!" Nico growls, pushing Asher to the wall, digging his fingers into his throat, "she is not going to be awakened, so shut up, Asher!" Tension mounts in the room as everyone grows silent, my head still spinning from the madness I have launched myself into.

  "Why can't I know?" I question, my voice stammering, tinged with fear at Nico's anger, "why is it so bad?"

  "You only have a fifty percent chance or lower of surviving to be a Spier when you are awakened," Jake answers quietly. Nico shoots a scowl at Jake, roughly releasing Asher from his grasp. Asher takes a step away from Nico, and smiles.

  "Think about it, Ella." With these last words, he disappears out of the room, slinking away so fast that even Nico has no time to slug him with one of his potent fists.

  "Asher..." Nico moans, putting a hand against his forehead. He looks up and faces Jake, Yi, and Wes. "He doesn't like me very much, does he?"

  They all look at each other, and then simultaneously nod. "But we're behind you all the way!" Wes pumps his fist in the air, "right, guys?"

  "Yeah," Jake agrees, but Yi stays silent, like he has been almost the entire time. A piece of his coal black hair falls into his face, his green eyes expressionless.

  "It’s not my business," Yi says, not looking into Nico's slightly irritated face. Wes's face is bent in annoyance also, my expression of pure confusion. He turns to leave, muttering, "I'm going to practice." Without another word, he vanishes, leaving uncertainty behind him.

  "Oh, he's just like this because he's the youngest and he hasn't developed his Talent yet," Wes tries to wave it off, "he's probably jealous of you because you have everything he doesn't; the best Talent, looks, and position in the pack."

  "But we don't need jealousy," Nico laments, his voice rough and full of anguish, "we need loyalty."

  "Now, now Nico," Jake smiles, patting him on the back slightly, "we're a family. It is good for families to have little disagreements every once and a while. It helps us grow closer."

  Nico looks at them both, his eyes fierce. I gaze at him, drinking in his startling blue hair and enticing eyes, his lips as he forms his next words. It is all—his face, his body, his every movement—perfect.

  There must be something wrong with me.

  "I wouldn't exactly call this a little disagreement," he murmurs, then whirls to face me. My heart begins to beat faster, and I suddenly find it hard to breathe. How can one look affect me this way? "I'm going to take her to the orphanage," he suddenly spurts, taking my arm and dragging me along with him. I can feel his harshness, so different from the gentle touches I am used to. His movements are stiff and brisk, each step robotic. Even his grip on my arm is strange, so tight that it almost cuts off my circulation.

  We pass through the old fashioned corridors into the beautiful lobby. I gaze at the spectacular artwork, yet being careful not to look above. For if I do, I might burst into tears. Nico doesn't seem to notice my sudden insecurity, his expression unchanging.

  He pulls me to the bridge, forcing me to cross it with him. I think of earlier, when Nico was smiling and laughing with me as we first reached this place. It seems so distant now, like the whisper of a memory that is on the brink of fading away.

  We walk for a little while, his grasp tightening. It feels like it is going to explode; my hand, my whole body, and my heart. I am scared of this stranger, this man full of uncertainty and worry. The care free version of Nico, the guy that is so naive, is the one I... just might be falling for.

  Suddenly a flashing pain enters me, his grip suddenly bone breaking in strength. "Let go of me!" I scream, my voice filled with pain and anguish. Crumpling to the ground, I cradle my hand with the other, letting the life flow back into it.

  Nico turns, startled, and I just stare.

  He runs to me, bending down so his handsome face is at eye level. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, his face flushed. I gaze at him, tears brimming at the corner of my eyes. Slowly I let them fall, running down my face in rivers.

  "I'm so sorry..." he murmurs, sweeping me into a hug, his touch now like before. After a minute, he pulls away, and I notice that his face mirrors my own, tears staining his cheeks also. Strangely, I laugh. I can finally see him.

  This is the man I know.

  "You are better now!" I smile through my tears, "I don't mind the hurt, as long as you are okay."

  What am I saying? I must be going crazy.

  Nico looks at the floor, his unnaturally long eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Ella," he apologizes, a hint of sadness in his tone, "it is just that I'm worried about how this is all going to turn out. I want you to be safe more than anything." He finally lifts his head at these words, his face contorted in a scowl, "and Asher cares nothing for your safety. He is a heartless werewolf, Ella, more than anyone else."

  "Then why did you take him in?"

  "Because he is a Beast Talent," Nico shakes his head, "and because he is my twin brother. I can't turn away family."

  I reel back from his words. They are very identical, but their personalities are so different that it is somehow difficult to believe. I suppress a heavy yawn, and Nico chuckles quietly.

  "Let's get you home." Picking me up in his tender embrace, he begins to zoom through the forest, everything a blur. I let my eyes close, feeling more comfort than I have in a long time. Why does Nico always do this to me?

  After a short while, we reach the ugly orphanage—a collage of graffiti,
brick, scattered paint, and rough landscaping—and halt. I scan it quietly, taking in the two stories of misery, the windows that are commanded to be shut always, the old door that barely swings on its hinge.

  "Thank you Nico," I smile, though suddenly feeling fear. Ms. Penn is going to kill me for being out so late. My walk becomes a soldier's, knowing that each step leads me to certain death, or sometimes torture.

  Nico vanishes, making me feel more alone than ever. I never thought I would miss his desire to follow me absolutely everywhere, but now, a pit of nervousness builds in my stomach. What is Ms. Penn going to do to me?

  With shaking fingers, I slide the door open, only to fall prey to the vicious beast. There Ms. Penn stands, her face contorted in anger, her hair frazzled and messy. "Where have you been?!" she roars, grabbing me in the arm so tightly that I wince. My head shakes as she drags me over to the kitchen. With long, switch-like fingertips, she slashes me, slapping my skin with all her might. Pain erupts, vivid, dastardly hurt that spreads throughout my entire body like wildfire. She smirks as the blood starts to appear, staining my tomato red cheek. "People shouldn't have to worry about you," she snarls, "you are too useless and ugly for them to waste their time over."

  I bend my head, hoping to avoid another terrible slap, my tears racing to join the blood. "I'm sorry," I apologize, my words almost a cry.

  "Well, sorry is not enough," she snaps, "you will have to clean the entire orphanage tomorrow after school, instead of just your room. And that includes their rooms, the lunchroom, and the bathrooms." I flinch at the word bathroom; they are so dirty that the orphanage usually has to bring in a professional cleaning team to get it done.

  "Please, Ms. Penn," I beg, my voice anguished, “I won't have any time for homework if I clean the entire orphanage! That is a task for maybe two to four days!"

  She smiles in return. "Ella, if you don't get it done by tomorrow at ten o' clock, then I won't give you any breakfast or dinner for the next week." I gasp, my breath caught in my throat. Turning towards the stairs, I run up them to my dorm, rushing to the room I like to call mine. Throwing myself onto the bed, I let them all loose, my tears now like a rushing river, my cheek throbbing with unbearable pain.