It's freezing outside, but I couldn't stop running. I barely felt the branches hit me from every direction with no remorse. Twigs and sticks digging into my side for a brief second, some tarring through a bit of skin before losing contact with my body then falling back to the ground ready to pounce on my brothers next. The adrenaline in my veins kept pushing my legs forward and moving faster than humanly possible. The forest floor ruff and ragged beneath me as I push myself further than ever before in my seventeen years. Just keep moving cried my instincts, as I tried to ignore them to the best of my abilities. They're not instincts, they were taught to you. They're not instincts, they were taught to you. By Mom, by Dad and Aunt Caitlin and Aunt Jazz. STOP! JUST SHUT UP!
Just keep running, it's a distraction it's gonna be okay just focus on running with your brothers. Mom is dead you watched her die. Aunt Caitlin died. Dad got sick, he's dead Chloe. I stopped. The boys ran into me and we all fell to the ground. Jonathan looked at me about to ask what was wrong, but I was already up and walking away from them. Just as i was out of hearing distance I walked a few more feet before Changing and saying in a hush tone- because I knew that they would be upset if they heard; "It's all my fault."
When the boys got into the house, it was hours later because they needed to track down the deer all over again. Again my fault but one easily over looked compared to all the other struggles I put my family through. When they came in I caught a glimpse of the doe. They must've had trouble taking it down 'cause the throat was rugged as well as the hide. It was unpleasant to look at but it saved us from having to buy meat. Perks of being werewolf hybrids I guess.
Yeah, werewolf hybrids. My brother; Jonathan, and myself at least. Dad was human, but knew about supernaturals. He moved to New York from Oklahoma when he was eighteen where he met Mom at a party. They were drunk and that's how Jon came to be. However when he was sixteen he got a girl pregnant with Michael and she went crazy and killed herself after attempting to drown her three year old son which she wanted so badly. Mike ended moving in with Mom and Dad, Mom told him he could be her son and he could be his mama. However mom wasn't human. She was a necromancer, meaning that she could speak to and raise the dead. Necromancy is hereditary so Jon and I received Mom's abilities; however I was- and still am, a lot stronger than the both of them.
When we were younger the three of us were playing in the forest that surrounded our house. We were probably a quarter mile into the trees playing hide and seek, I was winning. Both boys were trying to find me when the wolf started to chase them when the wolf caught them it was right in front of the tree I was in. within seconds both boys were bleeding and acting purely on instincts I jumped – on top of the wolf.
The wolf bucked me off turned and growled, being seven I did the only thing I could think of- I growled back. I swear the wolf smirked- then he let out a snarl and charged, then faltered a bit when he saw I was running at him as well. We met in the middle with limbs flying and teeth ready. His: as long as an adult's middle finger and a sharp as knives, sunk into my side first. In reaction I had pulled on his ears and kicked his nose as he backed off. The wolf grinned as blood- my blood, dripped off his chin and mouth and on to the forest floor, where it would eventually seep into the soil. Then he bolted.
I must have screamed, or maybe it was Mikey or Jon, because my parents and aunts came charging through the underbrush, Mom and Dad with rifles aimed at anything and everything, only staying long enough to scope the area briefly so they could get to attending to us. Mom was trying to speak to me but I didn't- couldn't, hear her over the screams of agony. I never found out if it was the boys or if it was actually me.
Turns out it wasn't a real wolf, but a werewolf that was hired by the Nast Cabal. My mother believed that the Fates took pity on her children and allowed the necromancers to Change quickly and without pain. Bullshit. I was able to Change quickly- under two minutes, but not without pain. The pain is like Hell itself was burning at your insides before putting your insides outside. I have latterly been tortured before, but every time I Change there's this moment when all you can do is beg for death. But death and dying are to easy, living is the hard part, and the living are the ones that need pity.
"Sissy? Where is the juice?" Laney asked her right hand out searching as her left held my shirt, pulling lightly. Her unfocused, colourless eyes trying to see still, a habit she will always have.
"Twelve o'clock, use your full arm's length to get it." Once achieved, my baby sister turned and blasted me with a mega-watt smile, acid-washed eyes looking at my exposed collarbone instead of meeting my dark blue ones. My sister didn't need this. She was three during the war. Not even old enough to know whether or not that her friends we actually dead. Now eight and having to do her homework at McDonalds or at the garage and spend Friday and Saturday nights sleeping at the bar, because we can't afford someone to watch her. All because of me and my power, all because the Cabals wanted it for themselves, all because Mom loved me, all because I love them.
I let the tear drop, than helped my sister cut her dinner and put some of mine on her plate. I'd rather starve than have her undernourished. We can all look after ourselves, and that's what happens most of the time. Michael looks after his wife and two kids, Jon And Rafe take care of themselves, Ethan and Megan take care each other, I help out where ever, but I always will take care of Laney before myself.