Confusion overwhelmed her and it was evident in her deeply furrowed brows. She rubbed her eyes, in an attempt to adjust the disorientation from the sudden transition from darkness to light. But it was a futile effort. She gazed upon her empty palm, utterly perplexed. She could no longer feel the weight, or the sharp pressing of the assumed blade. It was almost like it was all in her head.“Congratulations, Kimberly, you just passed your first training session.” Nicholas announced, looking at her with an amused smirk.Kimberly's gaze lifted to meet his subtle smirk, “I.. I don't understand.” She stuttered, “I caught it. It was here in my palm, but now… it's gone.” She explained, pointing to her palm with the other hand for emphasis.Surprisingly, Nicholas seemed unperturbed and it deeply confused her. “There were no blades, there were no cuts on your skin, it was all in your mind.” He said coolly, his eyes never leaving hers. “It's one of the things I can do, you can call it one of m
Meanwhile, Sheila woke up to the piercing ringing tone of her new phone shattering the still quiet of the early morning. Groggily, she swung legs over to the side of the bed and planted her feet firmly on the ground. Rubbing her eyes, she strode to the dresser table, where her phone laid, vibrating with nuisance.Snatching her phone in a vigorous manner, she swiped right and placed it over her ear. “Hello!” She started, her voice filled with both irritation and anticipation.“Sheila Black?” A familiar masculine voice, with a Mexican-American accent, echoed at the end of the line.“Jerry!?” Sheila exclaimed in a tone that seemed angry but at the same time, relieved. “What's going on? I've been unable to reach you guys, I tried calling and messaging…”“Last night, we almost got busted .” Jerry’s bold tone responded curtly. Sheila's voice tightened. “What happened?”“We had to touch our gear —our phones, laptops, everything.” Jerry explained. “We're setting up in a new location right n
Flashback to when Sheila had terrified Madison in her car after she testified at the police station. In a frenzy, Madison raced the car home, her heart threatening to jump out of her throat. The panic gradually began to wear her down as her mind reeled with what she had seen and heard: Glowing eyes, fangs, and an animalistic growl. SHEILA WAS NO HUMAN! In her thoughts, Madison had fearfully admitted. Still, a tinge of uncertainty lingered. But she knew there was only one person who would make her feel less insane and also confirm what she had seen —her mother. Meanwhile, Madison swiftly unlocked their compound gate with the security code and speedily dashed the car inside. As soon she parked her car in the garage, she hurriedly ran for their car porch, screaming for her mother to tell her what she'd seen, having felt overwhelmed by her discovery.“Mom!” She yelled as she slammed the door behind her. “Mom!” She raced up the stairs to her mother's bedroom but found it empty.She check
In continuation from the past: At Mickey’s Pub, Margaret’s eyes followed the man who she had been following as he sturdily sauntered to a corner of the pub, where men in his same attire gathered, all engaged in different pub activities. She headed for the bar and stood before a tall, sweaty, cranky-looking bartender. “May I have a glass of champagne?” She said casually, reaching for her purse in her handbag. She heard the bartender snort in a ridiculing manner. She paused to look at him with a questioning expression.The bartender leaned forward and opened his mouth to speak while Margaret leaned backward to avoid the odor that oozed from his mouth. “We don't sell champagne here, Pretty.” He said with a smirk that exposed his yellowish-brown tooth.“What do you sell, then?” Margaret asked, her expression unyielding.Still leaning forward, He proudly listed what he had. “Beer, Gin, vodka, whiskey, tequila, rum, soda, anything but champagne for a woman of your specialty…” the bartender
Fast-forward to the present:As soon as Margaret turned around to find Levi looming before her, her heart skipped a beat. That was the second time after Levi tried to strangle her. There was an awkward pause between them. With his intense gaze of scrutiny, Margaret swallowed. Fear was not a word to describe how she felt about Leviathan Morganton. As a matter of fact, when he saw her kill the biker gang (the suspected group of people that could have murdered her dear daughter), what she felt was a surge of relief and satisfaction. If anything, she was grateful to him for doing what she couldn't have done. However, Margaret felt more intrigued, impressed, and curious about Levi's abilities, his whole personality, and how he came to be. A question tugged seriously at her mind, a question that arose the moment she saw him move with the speed of light, killing every one of the biker gang with a cold, hard, passionless glare. No, Margaret was not scared of him. Her intuition had told her
His tone turned grave, “Did you just try to weaken me, Margaret?” Levi asked, his eyes never leaving hers. Margaret swallowed; she couldn't afford to be scared because if she did, she would appear weak and vulnerable like every other human he had encountered.“I asked you a question.” Levi’s voice grew dark, shrouding the entire room with tension and unease.Just then, the microwave timer set off, its beeping sound subtly startling Margaret. She turned to the microwave, then back at Levi. She mentally calmed herself and made herself believe she needed him and wouldn't hurt her. Then she responded, her tone calm and serene, “I didn't.” She answered curtly but firmly. She then turned away from him and proceeded to take out her food from the microwave, resisting the urge to look over her shoulders for impending danger.Once she took out the food and grabbed a spoon, she turned around to face him. “Ever since I learned about… your kind, both real and fake, I've been adding wolfsbane to m
After the declaration of the Silversmith Werewolf Hunters being part of the plan to find Nicholas, “No.” One word was Levi's response. “No.” He repeated in a low, gravelly tone confusing Margaret all the more.Margaret's eyes widened, her voice laced with frustration. “What are you saying? You can't just dismiss this plan without a reason!”“No, Margaret.” Levi countered, his tone unyielding. “You think I didn't think of that already? Leave the Silversmith hunters out of this. My answer is No.”Margaret's hands slapped against the map, her fingers splayed. “No? Why? You're not even considering—” Her brow knotted, her lips pursed. “You're being obstinate. What's driving this refusal?”Levi leaned back onto the couch, his eyes narrowing, “My way is better. And that's all you need to know.""Your way? Do you mean killing everything that crosses you? That's not a plan, Levi! You're wasting time.” Margaret's voice rose, her words tumbling out.Levi shrugged, his voice even. “It's worked s
Wednesday, 9:00 am. At a cafe.The warm sunlight cast a gentle glow over the outdoor section of the cozy cafe, where Sheila sat sipping her coffee, her eyes fixed on the screen of her phone. Her thumb scrolled mindlessly through social media updates, a habitual gesture to pass the time as she waited for her old friend to show up with her most anticipated information.Sheila's gaze drifted periodically to the street, scanning the passing crowd for Jerry's familiar face, his silver laid-back hair, his rugged posture, and his usual all-black ‘mafia-themed attire.The sound of footsteps and the clinking of cups across tables signaled the arrival of new patrons. But Sheila's attention hovered around the outdoor entrance of the cafe, her eyes locking onto every man, hoping to spot Jerry’s familiar face.Just as Sheila's patience was starting to boil over, a figure emerged from the morning bustle and stood before her table. Sheila’s gaze rose to meet a man in his mid-twenties, in an edgy but