You: Is this another Wolverine's Sister story?
Me: Yes, yes it is.
A few minutes before the crazed gunman knocked down their doors, the manor house was calm enough that one would expect residents to be under the covers.
Judith's caretaker, Nettie, held up a dress with a petticoat the color of the savory cabbage in the gardens. Judy's nose immediately wrinkled as the clothing's scent of waste and urine wafted in to her face. The particular odor that became the prominent fuel of her distaste of gowns. Nettie, accustomed to her reaction, helped her squirm into it.
Elizabeth flipped her daughter's cowlicked hair over her shoulders as she studied the flaws of the garment. Judy knew she would have no problem with a solemn expression tomorrow, for the rough laces on the rectangular neckline itched and the wide hem would give her little mobility. She found it challenging to muster a genuine smile now, in such an uncomfortable position. The new ladies' fashions were growing more and more extravagant every year.
"Will James be in the portrait tomorrow?" Judy's twin brother was bedridden with fever, again, and she knew how fickle Elizabeth could be with their yearly family portrait.
Nettie nodded. "He should pull through the night."
Judy's eyes widened in panic, for that was not what she was implying. Judy was questioning the wan of her brother's skin, the recurrent cough that could interfere with the painting; not if he wouldn't survive. Jimmy must've been worse than she thought. She wanted to run to his chambers now, but what could she do that would make any difference? Jimmy already had the best healers in the land, and maybe even their reluctant playmate Victor to entertain him, albeit Victor would insist it Jimmy entertaining him.
So Judy kept her glum thoughts inward, and obliged to her mother's dismissive attitude towards the dress as she ordered another.
Once the laces were untied and the gown was off, Elizabeth followed Nettie into the loo down the halls of the manor, wondering if it was too late in the night to call in a tailor. Judy lay on her inherited four poster, twisting the bedclothes around her arms and legs.
A loud banging thudded from behind her doors, and she sat up automatically, wincing at the volume. Their groundskeeper's, Thomas Logan, voice rang clear through her head, despite the space and doors between them. "Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" it shouted.
Judy had been to many formals, some of which had been hosted by her father in this manor house, and while meeting the suitors her father approved of financially, had deciphered the difference between drunken slurs of men and their sober tones. Thomas Logan's words were intoxicated, yet his tonality wasn't. Intrigued by what Victor's cruel father wanted with his mistress—it must have been an emergency—she decided she would be there when one of the servants opened the entrance doors—out of range of course. If he was, in fact, partway drunk.
Acknowledging the taboo of leaving her chambers in merely a corset, Judy quickly pulled her refreshingly comfortable night gown over her head before stumbling down the grand staircase.
At the base of the case, she found her mother. Elizabeth seemed calmer than Judy, and gestured for her daughter to stay put. She stopped at the seventh stair down.
At their mistress's nod, Anne and Caroline unlocked and pulled open the heavy wooden double doors, only to be knocked on their rears when the groundskeeper effortlessly shoved them apart. His eyes immediately locked on Elizabeth.
"They've had thirteen years," Thomas growled. "It's time."
Thomas, his stance stiff and one fist flexing and curling as if he couldn't decide what to do with them, frightened Judy and she felt vulnerable out in the open while the maids and keepers scattered. He also had a gun.
"Please," Elizabeth begged, "Later. Not now. Come back when you're sober."
"I am sober!" he snarled. He tried to pass.
Elizabeth stepped in his path. "I won't allow it."
Judy cried out when Thomas snatched her mother's elbow, and his eyes flicked to her, as if he hadn't noticed her there before. Judy immediately wished she stayed silent.
"Get off me!" Elizabeth tugged her arm in futile attempt.
"Let her go right now!" Like a true knight in shining armor Judy longed to have one day, her father glided down; one hand resting on the banister while the other bore its palm towards Thomas. "And put down the gun."
Thomas lowered the firearm, but didn't release his hold on it, or Judy's mother.
Victor crept down the stairs, following John's footsteps. Gaining some confidence by Victor's valor, Judy forced her paralyzed legs to move and followed close behind.
"There are things you don't know about your wife and me." began Thomas, spitting out 'wife' bitterly.
"I know everything I need to." John shook his head slowly, but flickers of uncertainty crossed his features.
"Thom, no." Pleaded Elizabeth, no longer struggling against his hold.
"Let her go," John repeated. "And get off my property."
Judy realized what this meant. If Thomas was to leave, then surely he would take his son along with him. And then Judy would lose a friend.
"They must know what's going to happening to them!" Ignoring John, Thomas turned to Elizabeth, who shook her head, "I won't let you." she said.
"And never come back here!" John took steps toward the two, unable to refrain his anger any longer and was shouting.
Growling, Thomas turned his head and narrowed. "You can't—"
"I told you to never come back here!" roared John.
Thomas started, his grip tightening on the gun, pulling the trigger. The bang that sounded nearly caused Judy to jump out of her skin, her head ringing long afterward. Her father was thrown back and onto the ground as the bullet met his flesh, muscle, lung. Thick black-maroon blood stained his frilly shirt, the sight sickening Judy so.
Someone is screaming, she thought vaguely, as if it wasn't her father and she was watching from afar.
Jimmy suddenly appeared on all fours by John's side. John gripped his robes. "James," he stuttered. His head rolled to its other side as he gazed at his mentally detached daughter. "J—"
And he was gone. Judy could smell it in the air; the coppery blood, the pungent scent of grief and regret, hear her father's last breath spent on her name. It was so horrible she wanted to escape. She backed away, only stopping when she nearly tripped and realized her feet were moving on their own. Father couldn't be gone, she insisted. No, someone who stood so confident and strong can't die that quickly, at the hands he entrusted with the care of his property.
The screaming began again, except this time it was her brother, screaming in mental and physical pain as the death of his hero enclosed around him and long, sharp bone slid out between his knuckles.
And then Jimmy was running and Thomas was lifting the gun and Elizabeth was on the ground because the groundskeeper had pushed her there and Judy realized that Jimmy was going to die like her father when Thomas pulled the trigger and Jimmy would die the same way too.
Judy launched herself from the sidelines and knocked the gun from Thomas's hand just as he was firing, so the bullet went in another direction; through the wall.
She fell to the ground, knocking her elbow hard on the marble floors.
Jimmy's claws sunk into Thomas's chest so deep, his knuckles pressed into the man's stomach and the victim fell against the wall.
Thomas didn't scream or show any signs of pain or anything. "James. J-Judith." Judy tore her eyes from his wound and looked at his face; the bulging eyes and sweaty nose. "He wasn't your father."
Jimmy stared in horror at his claws, at his mother, then back to Thomas. Thomas's eyes turned glassy and his eyelids only dropped halfway before the life went out of his body and the scent of death intensified. Jimmy backed away, dropping Thomas as he did, realizing what this meant.
Judy couldn't look away from the corpse that was her biological father until she heard the words that put the weight of betrayal on her chest, although the words weren't directed to her:
"What are you?"
Hurt by his mother's words, rather than run to Elizabeth or to his room, Jimmy tore out the open doors, Victor following.
Lifting herself onto her shaky legs, Judy turned to hide back in her chambers, to wait it out and comfort Jimmy when he and Victor came back. If they came back. This thought alone made her stop in her tracks. If her brother—brothers—were to run away forever, Judy would inherit the farm and manor. No, her husband would inherit it. And without her lenient father it was likely Elizabeth would pick for her. And if she knew her mother correctly, Elizabeth would force her to marry some suck-up lawyer. And then she would be forced to bare children—something she couldn't fathom—and care for her aging widowed mother.
Elizabeth not only betrayed John, but her brother as well. And if Jimmy and Victor weren't coming back to the manor to avoid the complications of murder, if she went with them, she could live her entire life free in… anywhere but here. Of course, there were details to think over; how they would earn a living, clothes, a place to stay, but she knew Jimmy was an eager-to-please boy who would never force her into something she didn't want and Victor didn't focus on anything but the present and survival.
Clearly, though, staying at the manor would be the easier path; to be taken care of and in return, loyalty and children.
James or Elizabeth? Jimmy or Mother? She would lose someone either way. Looking at her mother now though, she could see herself turning into Elizabeth—hateful of change, fearful of love, obedient to her sons and husband—should she choose to stay. To leave, an adventure. If she left she wouldn't have to fret about the future.
Before her conscious could convince her to stay, Judy turned on the balls of her bare feet and ran out into the cold autumn night, relishing the brief moment of freedom before sorrow and perhaps regret could trap her in its chilling clutches.
Judy wished she could run faster. She hadn't seen her brothers, but she could sense them, and she had their scent. She knew she was heading in the right direction, but just not fast enough. If she wasn't there soon, they would be gone and she would be alone, and miss her chance to be with them.
It wasn't her musings that set her off, but the barking dogs and extra footsteps behind her. Behind her, there was the baying of hound dogs on her trail, and Judy didn't have time to wonder how they found her so fast. Because the burning of her lungs and nose as well as the aching of her feet and toes suddenly lifted as the panic and adrenaline set in. She ran fast, exactly how she wanted, until she was practically flying, her toes just brushing the ground as the thumps of the footsteps behind her faded away.
She wasn't sure how to stop, or if she wanted to, but when her eyes and head lifted from their gaze on her feet, a tree root, or stone, stubbed her toe painfully and she knocked into something rough and soft. However, the force she brought was transferred to Victor who fell onto Jimmy, creating a dogpile with Judy on top.
Poor Jimmy with a couple hundred pounds on his chest groaned in annoyance. Judy quickly scrambled off the two, running a hand through her hair and pulling out dead leaves as Victor yanked Jimmy to his feet.
"Don't you realize, Judy?"
Pleased when Victor didn't immediately order her to run back to the manor, she met the hard blue eyes identical to her own as her newfound brother spoke.
Victor put his left hand on Jimmy's shoulder, his right on Judy's. "We're brothers—"
"Sister." Judy's voice was hoarse after taking her breaths through her throat.
"And siblings protect each other." His grip on their shoulders tightened with every statement. "We have to be hard. Hard enough so that nothing can ever touch us."
Albeit Judy couldn't imagine being as cold as Victor had the potential to be, but she favored the idea of never feeling the pain of loss and betrayal again.
"I want to go home." Jimmy's voice shook.
"We can't!" Victor let out a breath. "We stick together no matter what."
Stick together no matter what. It was a relief that Judy wouldn't have to worry about losing her siblings.
"And take care of anyone who gets in our way. Can you do that, Brother?" Jimmy nodded.
"Sister?"
Judy nodded as well.
Victor glanced over his shoulder, and Judy followed his line of sight. The glow of hunters' lanterns appeared from behind the trees, illuminating a man's articles of clothing; a hat, a heavy overcoat, a sweater. Judy could do with something warm. She wouldn't complain, though. If she wanted to be hard, then she had to start by ignoring the pinch of the nighttime breeze.
"They're coming." Victor observed, his tone cautiously lower. "Think you can keep up?"
Judy's eyes narrowed slightly, not fond of how belittled her gender and found herself determined to prove that she could run. Fast.
Victor seemed pleased at her resolution, and straightened.
They tuned to the opposite direction of their pursuers, careering away from everything that was familiar.
"Keep on running."
"Don't look back."