The night has descended and with the arms of heavy darkness, gradually, it enveloped the whole world. Although it's a summer night, tonight the night air seemed to be unusually gloomy and cold. Somewhere in the middle of the spine-chilling darkness, the heavy scent of blood curdled in the air.
The surroundings were dyed in red. Old and new puddles of blood were forming everywhere. Looking at it One could undoubtedly imagine what had transpired not long ago. Corpses were scattered everywhere. Bloodied limbs and stumps were littered across the areas, and In the midst of this nightmare someone seemed to still be breathing, although faintly.
Through his way of breathing it could be said that he didn’t not have much time left, his body riddled with wounds and the blood seeping into his clothes, drenching the fabric pooled beneath him, dripping off of his body in slow increments could say he did not have much time left to live. His whole body was riddled with wounds; blood seeped into his clothes forming a puddle beneath him as it dripped off of him, in slow increments. There didn’t seem to be any place on his body that was not wounded.
He is starting to lose his consciousness slowly. He is struggling very hard not to lose it. It seems like he doesn't wish to die yet. He is still holding onto his last breath desperately.
Suddenly, he hears some rustling noises coming in his direction. He immediately turns alert. Although his face is pale due to the excessive loss of blood, his eyes are fierce. From the intent of killing that is oozing out of his face, it seems as if he has been anticipating their arrival for a long time.
The rustling of the bushes and leaves behind him, alerted him to the presence of a predator stalking his nerves, he struggled to turn, to look up, to move, the realization that he was too weak, gnawed against his eyes, the desperation he felt caused his eyes to glow with remnants of his power as he glared fiercely and bid his time.
He didn’t need to wait long, as several people surrounded him quickly; they fanned out in each cardinal direction,they all paused and turned as a man with a glittering green eyes and a scar from left eye to his chin, gnarly in shape and red, seemingly pulsating, strolled into the clearing.
He doesn't have to wait long. They reach him quickly and he is soon surrounded from all sides. They watch him with scorn-filled eyes for some time. After some time has passed, a man with a scar on his face comes forward and stands before him.
The man was tall, a burly muscular frame and grin crossed his gnarly features that seemed to be the very definition of evil as he looked down at him. He is a man with a burly body and a tall stature His eyes look cunning and greedy and the scar on his face only adds to the evilness in him.
The contempt oozing out of the man as he looked down at him, leaked free and he hummed with a pleasantly amused air about him, carefully crouching he scratched the sensitive part of his skin, the gesture caused hives to break out across his neck and travel down at the eerie feeling as the man clicked his tongue amused.
The man looks at him with contempt as if he is looking at someone as inferior as an ant. He unhurriedly crouches in front of the man on the ground and with a tone mixed with haughtiness and some authority, he says “Well, well, well. Look who's here?” he laughed as he snarked mockingly. A haughty tone carried as he continued, “Marcus Markie Muckerson”, he taunted as he looked down at him,“I must say that you are really arrogant to think that you could avenge your pack and go against all of us alone, but I do applaud your courage”, he laughed again. “For a definition of the word”, he added, entertained.
He gradually rose to his feet and looked down at Mark before continuing, “Now look at what this petty arrogance has brought you, all the people you cared for have died, one after the other. Your little lover is dead because of you and now you are also dying. Do you think everything is worth it? Looking at your bravery, I always thought that you would be a good addition to our pack. You know…”, he sighed heavily, “I hate to lose talents like you... If only you had behaved well, I would have taken you in, irrespective of your background. You are a true disappointment”, he sighed again.
It would have seemed truly moving if it weren’t for the leering grin taking up half his face and the hatred in his eyes; Listening to his words filled with false magnanimity anyone would mistake him for a kind elder. But Mark knew of his cruelty, this man wouldn’t even blink an eye when killing someone.
Mark still remembered how cruelly he’d killed his entire pack within a single night. He remembered the savage look on this man’s face as slaughtered his family with his bare hands, he never hesitated when it came to killing an innocent, be they children or mere babies. The man was a monster.
Ignoring the tragedy his family had been wrought by this man’s hand, it hurt to recall the truth, his love and the person he cared for most in the world lay dead, Blake. He couldn’t even see where Blake was, what were these monsters doing to his beloved as they cackled manically behind and around him, these cruel monsters, despite knowing that Blake was only human, they’d brutally killed him.
Tears pooled, as he heard his lover’s name coming from this monster’s mouth, hatred crawled through his mind with energy borne from it and the will of his pain, he struggled to his feet and swaying, faced the cruel visage of a man who thought himself god-like, he barely stood when a strong kick from the man hit him straight in his sternum and he fell to his knees, his attack hardly landing, and blood vomiting he coughed weakly.
On the other hand, after releasing the last bit of his strength, Mark's body falls onto the ground once again and he soon feels his consciousness slowly leaving his body. He knows that his time has come. At this moment a figure suddenly comes into his mind and a tear slips out from the corner of his eyes. He closes his eyes little by little and enters into darkness completely.
The pain that ricocheted through him at the kick, caused what little energy he had to deplete itself immediately as the recoil of that useless attempt to double in on him, and Mark collapsed helplessly, he whined helplessly as the darkness crept in, his vision blurred and the braying cackling laughter followed him as tears slipped out, “Bla—ke”, he barely whispered giving into the darkness that beckoned him home.
He wasn’t ready to die just yet, he didn’t complete his revenge, but he had no strength left, no resistance to put up any longer. He was tired and he lost everything now, it’s better to die than to live knowing he failed.
Mark didn’t want to die, he hadn’t succeeded in getting his revenge, the failure of the one thing that had kept him alive all these years and the love of man he’d met, swept into him, as his consciousness began to fade, the weariness kicked in and his strength left him as the overwhelming feeling of his futile endeavor wrapped around him like a blanket lulling him into the arms of death.
He’d failed.
**********
Below the steep end of an ocean cliff,Violent waves crashed onto the rocks of a steep cliff, the wind rushed around wildly, whirling through the thicket of trees, bushes and grass. The darkened sky bursting with flashes of lightning, rumbling with deafening growls of thunder, a storm brewed, and on this turbulent night, a man rushed down a barely lit path. The path led to a large manor situated at the very edge of the cliff, surrounded by more grassy knolls and both isolated and all encompassing of the grasslands.
The man held a container, gripping it tight enough his very veins stood out as lightning lit up his way, bringing his features into view. He was tall, burly but disfigured given the scar that ran from his left eye to his chin, marring half of his face in red gnarled skin, it sparked a vicious sense of doom, if anyone were to look at him at a distance, they'd be struck in terror.
The man ignored everything around him as he ran down the pathway and crossed a cobbled pathway leading him to a dark wooden door with an ornate gold door-knocker, removing a key from his clothes he unlocked the door and made his way into the house.
Blinking at the sudden brightness as the lights lit up the foyer of where he stood, he shook his head and made his way down a corridor only to reach the bottom step of the spiral staircase leading to the second floor of the large manor. Hurriedly climbing the stairs, taking them two at a time as he bounded up the stairs and reached a darkened hallway, he briskly walked down the way passing several rooms as he headed to his destination.
The heels of his boot provided the staccato rhythm of sound that reverberated from the wooden floorboards; the only sound accompanying him as he reached the last room.
Swallowing he stopped and paid attention to his appearance, breathing in once, twice and then a third time as his heart stopped racing in his sternum, he knocked on the door, and waited even as impatience swirled in his gut.
A beat later a hoarse voice commanded his attention; “Enter!”
The man shivered and nodded once mostly to himself, he opened the door and walked into a dark office barely lit with a small desk-lamp, the occupant of the room, sat on a high-backed chair, the back of his head the only thing visible, as The scarred-man walked into the room.
Puffs of smoke, the only sign of movement filled the room and a cup of tea lay forgotten on the desk, cooling.
"And Alric, what news do you bring?" the man asked, voice dry.
Alric nodded, "He's dead, I, we made sure he died before activating his pack's ability", he promised as he raised the container, "I brought what you asked for", he said and placed the container on the man's desk.
The man laughed raucously, "Finally! Finally", he cheered happily and turned the chair.
Alric swallowed as the only thing visible was the evil grin as the man cackled with glee.
"Alric, rejoice for you shall witness true power", he laughed, "I, Carlton Lewis, have been waiting for this moment for two decades", he laughed as he caressed the container and opened it.
The scent of blood flooded the room, and Alric took a wary step back as the man licked his lips, his arrogance from earlier as he'd watched Mark die vanished as the man, Carlton, picked up the heart, and licked his lips.
'Yeuck', he internally cursed, Alric wasn't a kind person but even as cruel as he was he'd never think to eat a heart.
Carlton, smiled happily and bit into the heart, his earlier elegance disappeared as he devoured the heart, the blood spurting out dribbled down his chin and splattered across his desk, even sliding down in droplets from the lamp looking eerily black by the light of the glow, it darkened the tea and destroyed forgotten documents.
Carlton ignored it all as he licked his lips and continued tearing into the heart, his teeth sinking into the organ as he slurped the remnants of blood and tissue into his mouth.
As the heart disappeared into Carlton's mouth the man sighed happily, "Finally", he said.
Alric nodded for a lack of anything else to do, and waited as the power of the heart would soon activate, he guessed.
Carlton waited, eyes slipping shut, only to snap open, and he choked, clawing at his throat he sent a desperate look at a confused Alric, and hissed.
"What?" Alric asked, as he watched the man curl into himself, his visage crumpling in pain before he threw his head back, his eyes began to bleed, as his pupils shrunk and he screamed.
Alric stumbled back, fear and wariness kicking in as Carlton stood up, the heat in the room escalated and Alric dove for the door, he hardly managed to open it before the screeching scream of the man behind him howled out and he turned and ducked covering himself as the man burst into pieces. Alric fell backwards as he watched the entire room, covered in body parts, blood and tissue, he quivered in fear and scrambled back as one eye rolled off of the surface of the room and made its way to the threshold of the door, staring up at him amidst the river of blood and he cursed; “What in the name of Hell?!”
Mark finds himself standing in a beautiful meadow. There was a large tree in the meadow, its branches casting a shade on the ground. The ground was covered in rich green grass and encircling the meadow were flowers of all types, sun flowers, helenium, lupines and lilies. He looks around in a daze at the beautiful scenery. To him, the surroundings look somewhat familiar. He tries hard to recollect his memories but no matter how hard he tries; he can't seem to remember. He finally gives up and decides to put that aside in favor of figuring out where he is, he died that much he knew but that this didn’t seem like hell. Suddenly he hears some sound coming from a distance. Curious, slowly, he strode in that direction. Gradually the silhouettes of two young boys come into his sight. He unhurriedly walks towards them.
Mark looks at Glinda. He tries to read her expressions seriously, attempting to find any clue. But Glinda's face does not give away anything. Frustrated but curious, he queries "Deal, you said?" "Yes, a deal", Glinda nods gently, "I can give you another chance to start things over again. But, in return, I want you to do something for me". Mark is unsure if he should believe this mad woman or not. Her face looks like she is having fun by messing with him. But, keeping this aside, her offer looks quite tempting. But he doesn't let down his guard completely. "What do you want me to do?" "Nothing much. Just do what you were unwilling to do previously. You will only have to follow my words, I will guide you in everything". She quickly adds, "Don't worry! This will be helpful for you as well. Also,won't ask you to do anything illegal. This will be totally within your moral ground...hehe!!!". Looking at her face, i
Mark instinctively tries to put some distance between him and Blake's naked body lying next to him. Because of his panic, he forgets that he is already at the edge of the bed. He falls to the ground with a thud. Panicked, Mark looks at the sleeping figure hurriedly. He sees Blake frown slightly, then makes some small muffled noises, turns his back on him, and returns to his peaceful sleep once again. Mark doesn't even dare to move. He is observing Blake's every small movement. When he confirms that Blake is not waking up anytime soon, only then does he sigh with relief. He doesn't even realize that he's been holding his breath the whole time. He then frantically searches for his shirt and pants amongst the clothes that have been scattered all over the floor. After he finds them, hurriedly he puts on his clothes, no longer daring to stay around any more minute. After he is done wearing it, he looks at Blake's sleeping frame once more. Regarding him,
Blake looks at Mark's matured face carefully. He only remembers Mark from many years ago when they were still children. They were so close then, but one day, Mark disappeared suddenly. He still remembers how he waited for him for the entire day that day. The next day and even many days after, he still went there, hoping that he would come back for him soon. He was unwilling to accept the fact that he would never return and they would never meet again. He would go to that place every day and would wait for him there for the entire day.At some point, he even thought that something might have happened to him, so he couldn't return. But when this continued for a long time, he thought if he had done something wrong unknowingly. And because of this, his friend was angry with him, unwilling to see him. After going there for two months or so, he stopped visiting that place frequently. Still, he did not lose hope and would stop by often. He even left notes of apology for him there,
"It's been a long time, Blake. I am glad that you have been well," says Mark and, he examines Blake.He tries to find some clues on his face, but to his dismay, his face gives away nothing. Blake, with his blue eyes, simply looks at him rigidly, nods his head mildly, then he returns to eating his breakfast. From his bland reaction, it looks as if everything from last night was just a fragment of his imagination.Seeing his expression filled with indifference, Mark feels a bit disappointed. But isn't this exactly what he wanted? Shouldn't he be happy? So, why does he care about Blake's opinion so much, and what is this suffocating feeling in his heart?All of a sudden, Mark feels a pang of remorse in his heart. Indeed, this is retribution. This is what he designed, after all. He is the one who abandoned Blake in the first place. He is also the one who's hurt him the most. He doesn't even know if he might be hurt, even if Blake chooses to abandon
Mark slumps back on the bed weakly after Glinda leaves the room. Her mere presence can wear him out completely. He closes his eyes in annoyance and tries to distract himself by recalling all the events that have happened to him since yesterday. He is unable to understand why everything has turned out this way. Mark is the kind of person who always has firm control over his emotions. But since last night, he has a feeling as if things are no longer in his control. Since the time he met Glinda, nothing has been going the way he wanted. "Sigh! Let's just go with the flow for now."At this moment, he focuses on his most prominent issue and hauls himself out of the bed, and makes his way to the bathroom, shedding his clothes along the way. It's now time to take a cold shower.******Blake is leaning his head against the back of the coach. He is silently listening to the running of the water from the shower upstairs. He has been aware that he is acti
Once again, Mark is standing in the same clearing where he used to play as a child. For a moment, he panics and, in his mind, he wonders, “Am I dead? Again?” But he doesn’t have to wait for the answer for too long. Just then, he hears an angry growl from behind him. Because of his instincts, he immediately turns around, looking alert and defensive at the same time. Behind him, he sees a large black wolf with dark, shiny eyes. It’s almost 7.5 ft tall and 12 ft long. Under the moonlight, its black fur is gleaming like silk. With its majestic bearing, it would have been a sight to behold, if only his fangs were not baring at him. He also has a feeling as if the wolf is glaring at him as well. From its appearance, the wolf seems quite familiar to him. He looks at it more closely and ponders, “where was it? Or am I just thinking too much?” After a few seconds of
“Blake…” “Blake, I am sorry!” Mark apologises to Blake. But it’s like Blake is unable to hear him at all. Mark tries more to communicate with him “Blake, it’s really not my intention to push you away!” He sneakily looks at Blake and continues “you suddenly came at me…I was so shocked that I accidentally... a-are you alright?” Mark tries hard to reason with Blake, but for Blake, it seems like he has lost all his senses after the fall. He is now a bit annoyed with himself. He knows that he is not good with words and so, no matter how hard he tries, it will aggravate their misunderstandings and hence will only worsen the situation. So, feeling helpless, he gives up for the time being. He a
Mark feels as if the world is spinning around him. It didn't make sense why, every time he thinks that he is finally getting to know him well, he is hit by another truth once more. It's one thing for Blake to not forgive him, but it's totally a different thing for him to lie to him over and over again. He doesn't know what to believe and what not to believe anymore. And now, looking at the fear and panic-filled on Blake's face, he realizes that without a doubt, he has been lied to once again. Soon he realizes the brutal truth! So, everything that has happened is only because of him. He is responsible for all these. If… if only he didn't leave him behind then...might be, Blake wouldn't have turned out to be like this today. It's happened because he failed his duties as his mate. Despair engulfs him from within as
Mark notices a note card lying on the floor. He then suspiciously looks around the room. This doesn’t look like a house that has undergone a torrent only a few hours back at all. After waking up, he has been expecting to see something like a blooded path, broken furniture, headless wolf or even a vampire with an empty chest cavity. But is he seeing now? Absolutely nothing, not even a speck of dust. Its looking as if the house has magically cleaned itself or something. Everything is spotlessly clean and in its place like before. There isn’t even a drop of blood to be seen. In spite of the house undergoing a thorough cleaning, he can still smell blood in the air which is the only proof that whatever has transpired is true and not some freakish dream of his. When the fishy smell of blood suddenly stings him in his nostrils, he feels suffocated. Oh Shit! he can never get used to this smell. He qui
Blake slowly drifted into a restless sleep as the night grows deeper and the cold gradually sets in. He finds himself standing in a corridor, standing before two double doors, the gold handles gleaming in the light. A light music floats into his ears from behind the door. The soft sound of the violin forms a beautiful memory and yet, as he looks at the all too familiar corridor, he gets a sense of déjà vu. As he looks around at the marble tiles with exquisite design, the family portraits mounted on the painted walls and the gleaming chandelier high above his head, he feels like this is a place where he has seen before but no matter what he is unable to remember where he has seen before. Suddenly, a gentle hum of conversation interrupts his wandering mind which seems to be coming from inside the room. Listening to it, he hurriedly moves away from the door. He unsteadily walks back, his whole body shudderin
From behind, Mark fiercely pounces on the wolf who is about to wound his mate. He growls at the wolf angrily, sinking his fangs deep into his skin and brutally tearing off its neck. Blood gushes out of the wound and splatters on the ground, dyeing the floor in red. The wolf falls on the floor stiffly, his body jerking each time the blood flows out from his neck. Mark listens to the weak whimpers he makes, his ultimate effort to desperately hold on to his dear life. After making sure that the wolf was no longer moving, he quickly goes to Blake’s side. Mark smells blood from his mate. Concerned, he immediately turns to examine his body to find the source of the blood. Blake is now pitifully lying on the ground, unconscious. Because of constant blood loss, dripping from his wound, his face is becoming paler. Seeing him lying so pitifully on the
Mark is trying to make sense of what he is seeing in front of him. In front of him there are two paws- big, black and covered with fur. He continues to stare at those two furry paws as if his stare would make them disappear at once. H-how…w-why is this happening to him at the time when Blake is standing right in front of him? His head starts to spin. He immediately turns his face to look at the expression of his mate who is standing a few distance away from him. He is worried and desperate. W-what if…what if he thinks of him as a monster? And what if he starts to fear him and then starts avoiding him? What if he severs all his ties with him? All kinds of thoughts start blowing out his mind. No, he can never ever let that happen again, at least not until he is alive. He will never let go of him in this life. He can already feel his scent filling up the
Mark holds on to the sink as another bout of pain tears through his body. Cold sweat breaks out all over his body. Gradually the pain makes it harder for him to breathe. He clutches onto his chest tightly. *pant* *pant* his body shakes weakly and he slowly collapses onto the floor. He feels bile rising up to his mouth, but he resists the impulse to throw up. He closes his mouth tight and forcefully swallows down whatever is forming inside his mouth. Suddenly, he feels an intense heat burning in the area where his canines used to be. It is driving him crazy to the point of losing his consciousness this instant. So as not to lose his consciousness, he almost uses all his strength while a faint groan slips out of his mouth. He is feeling as if a fire is constantly burning inside his mouth. His body is now lying on the title floor completely without an ounc
Mark picks up the t-shirt lying on the bed and pulls it over his head. Suddenly, he stumbles a little when he feels a sharp pain burning through his body. His nerves are on fire. It’s feeling as if it is slowly making him lose his strength. He grits his teeth and bears with the pain, even as he currently feels like his brain is melting and his skull is about to split into two. His skin is burning in and out, feeling the urge to scratch his skin hard until it bleeds open. He is feeling as if something is gnawing on his skin, straining to come out. Trying not to scream loud in pain, he clenches his hands into fists. He is working hard to resist the urge to scratch his skin raw. He doesn’t know how much time has passed by. His breath has become laborious in agony. Slowly, after what felt like it’s been hours, the pain starts to dwindle bit by bit. He heaves a sigh of relief and slu
Blake wakes up, yawning while rubbing his forehead. Due to many days of fatigue and lack of proper sleep, he is currently having a terrible headache, making his head throb in pain. Wearily, he rises on his feet and makes his way to the bathroom. Softly, he closes the door behind him and turns on the water faucet. *Splash* *splash* he hits his face hard with the cold water a few times, flinching every time when the cold water touches his skin. He looks up to see his face on the tiny mirror hanging on the wall in front of him. Blood-shot eyes, messy hair, heavy bags under his eyes and cracked pale lips. Looking at the current appearance of his in the mirror, there is not even an ounce of the confident and charismatic CEO that the world knows of. Now in his face, there are only traces of weariness and
Mark immediately turns his head towards the direction of the voice but the thing that he sees makes him gasp in shock. He sees dark smoke rising from that direction and then drifting rapidly into the night sky. By this time, the whole sky is being covered in shades of grey, looking gloomy all over. He smells the smoke as the screams continue to rage on; he feels his heart twisting in discomfort for some reason unknown to him. Without thinking, he quickly heads towards the source of the disturbance. He is feeling a kind of restlessness inside himself, a kind of feeling that he should be there as soon as possible. Something inside him is telling him to hurry up otherwise it would be too late for him even to regret. It's as if something invisible is pullin