"I worked at a bank," he explains quickly, then continues. "When I was almost murdered, Jake happened to be passing by, and he saved me from them. I was badly hurt, with a bullet in the chest, so he went ahead and converted me without notifying the council. When it was known that I was a Stealth Talent, he added me to the pack, and I disappeared off the face of the earth. However, my best friend Raina coincidentally discovered me when I had my first morphing. She demanded to know what I had become. When I told her, she was not angry or disgusted, but interested. She told me that she was able to see the Shifters since birth, but never told anyone that she could. She asked me if she could watch one of our Shifter attacks."
"This is a strange story," I smile, "did you let her go?"
"Yeah," he sighs, "I was in love with her since kindergarten. I'd let her do anything." His voice is tinged with sadness, and boiling anger. "Even though Nico said not to."
"What happened?" I put one hand on his back, calming him.
"She reacted just like you. It must be a woman thing, to feel too much compassion. Raina took one look at the man possessed, and said she couldn't let me kill him. She said he was a person, and that would make me a murderer." Yi is expressionless now, his words lacking emotion.
"Where is she now?"
"Dead. The shifter killed her before I could react," he says softly, a hard, determined look to him. "I hate them."
"I'm so sorry," I sympathize with him. Silence sizzles between us, and when Yi can't take it anymore, he begins to babble.
"She wasn't my mate, anyway. I will find someone new to fall in love with... I'm sorry, Ella, for being so mean. You just looked a little bit like her, and your reactions were exactly the same..."
"Shh," I pat him on the head, "cheer up. If Nico can fall in love, you can too."
"But now," he adds, brightening a little, "you don't seem a bit like her. Your eyes are just like ours... I have a question, Ella."
"Yeah?"
"Are you a werewolf or a Spier?" he asks thoughtfully. "Your looks have changed, and I saw you run here really fast. However, I have seen no Spier abilities from you."
"I have no clue," I confess, "I don't know how to conjure a spirit spear, so I can't know for sure. What are you doing out here, anyway?"
"I have to practice my Stealth talent," Yi shrugs, "or I won't become fully matured. Right now, I can only hold my invisibility for about three minutes."
"Do you know how to meditate?" I ask him eagerly. He nods slowly. "Can you teach me?!"
"Here is what you do," he begins, lying in the grass, face up. "You can sit in the pool if you like," he smiles evilly, "I don't mind." With a big gulp, I decide to lie beside him. There is no way I'm taking off my clothes in front of him. He will probably steal them and run away.
"Breathe regularly, and close your eyes. Try not to think about anything. Clear your mind," he instructs. My eyelashes hit my cheek, and I try to think of nothing.
Wow, this is hard.
Silence reigns as I feel the thin blades of grass, as jittery as a rabbit. "You stink at this," Yi laughs, standing up, "I could feel you squirming around like an earthworm."
I continue to lie down, trying once again to focus without the attractive Asian by my side. All I can see is black. What happens after this? What do I do?
I begin to think back to Yi's story, and suddenly my mind flashes to the Shifter in the mansion. The young boy with eyes of fire. The devil beneath the skin.
I jump up and start to sprint through the forestry, ashamed that I would forget him. Yi gallops along with me, not even looking where he is going. "Where are you heading? You were actually doing well for a minute," he says with some concern. I ignore him, chugging away towards the mansion as fast as I can. I whirl past Nico and the others, Yi stopping briefly to talk to them. They can catch up to me in a second, though, with their super speed.
The area around me grows dark as I enter the mansion, a stench belonging to the possessed boy wafting to my nose. I follow it like a bloodhound to a random door. Nico zooms up behind me, anger in his features. "Don't go in there!" he commands, but I disregard him, knocking it open with all my strength.
The boy is laying on the luxurious bed, his dark arms and legs tied to the bedposts. A piece of heavy duct tape is stretched over his mouth, and his red eyes are wide with heart-wrenching fear.
The fear vanishes as I move closer, replaced by pure, savage madness.
"Ella! Stand back!" Nico calls as I lean towards his face, "he can hurt you."
"Got a nasty bruise from him," Jake mutters, rubbing his slightly splotched arm. For some reason, I can hear everything, but all my focus is on the poor soul in front of me. I ignore the others, examining his bloodthirsty gaze and stained heart.
With sudden direction, I place my hand on his head, remembering that contact brings the voices. Immediately they pound in my head, hurting as they overwhelm everything. The same horrifying KILL command beats like a drum, and the whisper of a protest lays in the corner, unable to fight. It is much weaker than last time, I having to strain to hear it.
But this time, I can do more than just listen.
With strange guidance, I try to reach for the weak voice, wanting with all my might to help him. To aid his rebellion. Strength is leaving me, pouring into the one small protest. I suddenly find it hard to stand, and I wobble on my feet. Tiredness washes over me like a flood, destroying my defenses. But I keep going. The thought of saving this man from the same fate as my father helps me stay awake.
"Ella!" I hear faintly, reality trying to bring me back. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, shaking my head no. I am fighting with him, and distraction right now will ruin it.
The protest grows larger and larger, and then starts to scream like a train whistle, high and exceedingly annoying. It deepens into a lion's roar, unending with power, unleashing its fury. The deathly command starts to fight also, growing in volume equally. My head and heart is pounding. Looks like I'm going to be deaf for the next few days.
A few more seconds of this torture, and then the command fades away, ceasing to exist. The red retreats from the teen's eyes, leaving a spectacular chestnut color. He is sweating, life truly returned to him. His stench slowly morphs into a neutral aroma, faintly sweet. He is emotionless for a minute, and then erupts into a spectacular smile. "Are you an angel?" he finally asks after staring for a moment. He is gazing at me as if I am a sky full of stars, with wonder and awe. Is his image of me a little warped?
"No," I grin back as I answer him, flattered. I turn to four open-mouthed werewolves in the corner of the room. Their jaws are nearly hitting their knees.
"That," Wes speaks for all of them, "was amazing. We've never seen anything like it." Nico, with his beautiful blue hair, just stares.
I peer over into the mirror beside me, just noticing its presence. There it was again; that strange, stunning girl that I do not know.
Raising my arms, I peer at each of my perfect fingers, while the other girl does the same. There is incredible power hiding behind each of these fingertips, power that I have yet to unlock. Is this the me I have been so desperately desiring?
I turn to the still-awestruck boy staring at me with wide eyes, and my smile grows wider. Who knows what I can do with this power?
Anything is possible.
People Are Like Ants
A purple sun is cast over dark, blood red waters, whispers of screams still clamoring to leave the horizon. A castle like a shadow lays at the edge of the lake, the color of the night. True terror is in the air, mixed with fear, pain, and longing.
A man paces back and forth in a dingy room, muttering words that should not be repeated. Bookcases stretch across each wall, a single door creating the only gap. Soft chairs as soft as silk are lying about, and a minuscule coffee table is set in the middle of it all. Only one other person is in the room, listening attentively to every sentence he spits out after a string of expletives.
"I can't believe this has happened
..." the man, face unknown, turns to his companion, "I made a huge mistake."
"Everyone makes mistakes," the slightly gray-haired, stubby man the size of a dwarf, does not even truly care about his predicament. However, the tall man with a veiled face is very distraught.
How can he fail not once, twice, thrice, but FOUR times in his mission? If he wishes to stay on his throne, he better be seeing more results from all these traps his servants have been dropping around the mansion. If not, his subjects will not obey him. They expect him to foil the prophecy, but he has only succeeded in helping to fulfill it.
This last attempt, though, is the crowning glory of his failures, the cherry on top of the sundae. It makes the others look like a simple game.
How could he have switched the two bottles by mistake? Sure, they were identical, and smelled almost exactly the same. But leave it to him to completely forget which one is which, and take the one that guaranteed disaster.
The veiled man, wrapped in a thick, velvety robe, continues to speak, words coming out of him like the soft flow of the harp. "I am the King," he emits, voice barely above a whisper, "but I am not worthy."
It is then that the chubby man truly comes into play. He marches over to the majestic man's side, tugging on his arm to force him to the small man's height. "You ARE worthy," he tells the man quietly, every word packing a powerful punch, "you are the only one in the entire kingdom with a true body. You are the only one that is free to be your own. You can do things your subjects can only dream of. Everybody wants to be you… You are the only one who can save us." His eyes are steady, gazing through the folds of the veil.
There is a moment of complete silence, and then the tall man rises upwards. Fire is alight in his eyes, anger and determination clearly seen. "Close the gates," he commands, "no one in or out of the kingdom may bypass it. It must open for no one. Also double our security around the kingdom. If they are ever found within the area, bring them to this castle. I want to gloat before I kill them forever, and with it, any chance of destruction."
"But what about... that?" the man points to a mysterious object resting in the crown the veiled man wears.
"This," he pats the crown softly, "is safe with me."
The object pulsates a glowing red on top of a wealth of rubies, electricity crackling in the thick, choking air. The tall man sits down in a rough leather chair and takes a sip from the wine glass at his side, smiling.
The next time he tries, he will succeed for sure.
My eyes fly open as I scramble out of my resting place among the tall trees and thick blades of soft grass. Which, coincidentally, is by a beautiful bathing pool that reminds me of the spa tub the pack owns at the mansion.
Or maybe it isn't coincidental.
But whatever the case, I have been getting wonderful progress on my meditation, although these frightening visions keep popping up sometimes. Is this what's supposed to happen? I haven't even conjured one spirit spear yet.
These strange dreams are getting more plentiful, many featuring the veiled man, and some showing the strange, deathly sharp gates as they bang to a shut. Everything I see is desolate, the kingdom not exactly the picture of health. Every time I shut my eyes, almost, I am whisked away to the place of smoke, death, and tears.
I start to run through the trees towards the garden after checking my watch, noting the time. Chills run through my stomach as I realize that school is only twenty minutes away, and with it, the stares.
Even a couple of hours staring at the mirror has not convinced me that the beautiful girl looking back is me, and if I am feeling that way, the school's reaction will be truly unpredictable. I almost want myself back, so I can go almost unnoticed through the crowds, but now since I am implanted into another's body, I will have to hunch to be below them. Nico is treating me exactly the same as before, comforting me a little. Maybe this girl in the mirror really is an illusion, a hallucination concocted by my deepest, darkest desires.
Jake, Asher, and Yi treat me like normal also, although Wes obviously has hyped up his flirting, ticking Nico off immensely. He has to almost constantly pull Wes off me, although I personally think it’s rather funny. I have gotten used to Wes's hilarious advances, which is strange considering that just a week before I had never really talked to a guy, let alone a handsome one. I think Wes just does that because he knows it makes Nico angry.
But school? A completely different matter. I know they will react. How they will react is the real question
I race into my room, smelling the sweet dandelions by my window as I look at the clothes thrown on my bed. All my clothes from before do not fit me, which is a shame because I didn't even get to wear them all. Somehow, almost magically, a whole new set of stylish apparel was in my closet this morning. They all fit perfectly, sliding over my new form like butter and flowing past my ankles. As I checked the back of them earlier, they all were designer clothing, leading me to believe Nico had done some late night internet shopping. When I asked him, he didn't deny it.
Today's choice is a light blue blouse that reaches my hips and dark jeans that fit me like a glove. I shimmy out of my t-shirt and shorts, almost feeling like a "peeping tom" when the girl's unfamiliar, creamy skin is bared, and slip into the clothing. I am about the same size as I was before, but the length is completely different. I don't know how Sidney is going to take it when she finds that I suddenly tower over her. She likes to look down at me, but now she will have to tilt her head upwards.
I comb a brush through my now-long red hair, marveling at its softness. It isn't as exotic as Nico's blue hair, but I feel it has its own appeal. It is completely straight and dries quickly, which are both strange but enviable qualities in long, thick hair. Everything I have ever wanted is what makes this new body, but instead of true admiration, I feel fear.
This is not what I want.
If there was some way to change back, regaining my imperfections, I would take it. Before, I wished desperately for change, but now I don't care as much. Once I desired everyone's acceptance, but now I only need one's...
I shake the image of him from my mind, scrambling to tug on my shoes. With one more glance at my watch, I run out of the doorway, heading to the bridge where Nico and I meet.
A dastardly handsome bombshell with eyes like emeralds and luscious blue hair waves at me as I walk closer. "You look pretty in your new clothes," he says, his silky smooth voice sparking fire within me. I subconsciously straighten at his side, my flowing blood red hair dancing past my upper back.
"Really?" I can't help but squeak out those words, flashing him a smile to hide the discomfort. Maybe Nico really likes this new shell I am now trapped in, one with physical beauty far surpassing the average human. I am currently almost Nico's equal, our looks perfectly in sync. Men will now desire this flawless body like women love Nico's build. Inside beauty doesn't matter when you have eyes like emeralds and lips like luscious cherries.
"Of course," he offers me this heart-melting smile, and offers his arm. With a heart thumping erratically in my chest, I take it. I start the run, a slow jog that doesn't even tire me anymore, and Nico easily matches my pace. He laughs, pure joy echoed in his eyes.
"Why the jog?" he questions.
"Because we have to get to school before we're late," I laugh back, hoping that he won't discover my truly troubled demeanor. He has enough worries of his own.
We continue for a few more miles in silence, and then Nico pulls on my arm and comes to an abrupt halt. "Is there... something you need to ask me?" he prompts slowly, concern in his features. I suddenly realize that my smile had been morphing into a scowl as we ran.
I decide to ask the questions on my mind. "Nico," I begin, "what did you look like before you became a werewolf?" Obviously worse, which is kind of hard to imagine. I tried to put myself in his shoes. If I was a beautiful werewolf and I just got mated to an ugly guy, what would I do? Part of what attracts me to him is his physical beauty; without it he could have just been ano
ther annoying, jeering guy.
Nico reaches with one hand towards his pocket, pulling out a small picture. "I thought you might want to see this." He hands it to me, and I stare at the person I know so well.
His eyes are a crystal blue, framed by enviously long lashes and a face much like the present Nico standing beside me. His hair is a golden blond with blue streaks, and his build slightly less attractive. But other than that, they were identical. "Why blue streaks?" I stare at the golden-blue clash, still managing to look attractive on Nico's form.
"Because I lost a bet with my friends," he shrugs, "and was forced to do that. It just happened to be the day I was practically killed by a werewolf." He fingers his azure hair, sparkling in the light.
I feel so jealous. How could he look like that as a human?
"Do you... like the body you have now?" I question softly, and he laughs.
"Oh, this shell of perfection? Nah," he shakes his head, "I really don't care. It is the inside beauty that really matters." His emerald eyes gaze into me, understanding my inner qualms. Funny how he used the word shell also, as if he thinks of his physical appearance like I do.
Silence crackles in the air, tension between us. It is usually not like this, but now I have a biting curiosity that I must satisfy. Nico senses it too, stiffening as my mouth opens.
"Please tell me." I look up from the dazzling picture and grab his arm. He seems resilient, but then breaks under my intense stare, weak against my hopes.
"Well, there's not too much to tell. I was driving to a party, when some strange force stopped the car completely. The windshield became blurry, and I was unable to see anything. There was dead silence, and then the creature ripped the car door from my vehicle. It was a monster, half man and half werewolf, what we call a Beast Talent. He immediately clamped down on my arm and dragged me to a clearing in the forest. There, he started to claw at me, a rather disgusting experience I would rather not speak of in detail," he shudders, "it was terrible. The werewolf was blinded by bloodlust and my somewhat pleasing scent. However, I managed to hurt him as well, and some of his blood got in my wound. The light of the full moon began to convert me. Once the werewolf realized what had happened, he tried to escape, but in a matter of seconds I was a werewolf also with a bloody vengeance. Werewolf conversions are nearly immediate, although yours was not the case because of the Spier blood. Anyways, I killed the savage werewolf and sort of... took his place. That is why the council didn't exterminate me for being a stray."
Nightly Howls Page 16
