~The heavy Fell's Church wind made the trees shake and rattle their branches against one another. Rain slammed down on to the earth in large buckets, deepening puddles and soaking the rocks and shrubs. Little critters scampered in all directions, heading for cover from the pouring rain. The sky was black with rolling clouds and booming thunder, lightning crashing in the atmosphere and streaking the sky with white and gold. Everything was dark and hidden like a secret, waiting to be discovered again. The ground drank up the ice-cold liquid of the rain, quenching its thirst from the recent summer, though summer hadn't been around since August. And it was November.
Wrench sat among the highest of branches in a tall pine tree, hood falling in front of her eyes and shielding her hair from the wet bark of the tree. She lounged comfortably, one leg dangling off the edge like a rag dolls; the other bent at the knee and sitting on the branch. Both hands folded over her lap, and she bent her face backward and up, eyes shut.
She didn't seem to mind the nip of the cold air; she liked the feel of the rain slapping against her forehead, like it was trying to wash away the headache that had been plaguing her for weeks now. She even sat in trees for the hell of it, dozing and watching the world spin by slowly. She didn't have a care in the universe when she went out for a stroll. She loved it. It was her favorite pass time.
Wrench swung her neck around in a circle, hearing the little crackle of popping in her neck bone, and then snapped it violently to the side, popping it harder.
There had been a time when her mother would have scolded and yelled at her for doing such a masculine notion, but her immortal life had toughened her skin and wrapped steel around her heart and etiquette that she seldom noticed she was a well brought-up lady. Working at a mechanics shop was bad enough, but she enjoyed getting her hands dirty and keeping her mind busy. Even as a human she watched her father and the servants work on things and she quickly picked up the workings of any machine she could get her hands on. At the shop, she was the best out of all of them, even knowing how to repair a radiator in an old eighteen wheeler.
But despite her frowned upon habits, most considered her a "natural beauty" being of only nineteen with long black curly hair and pale goddess-like features, high cheekbones and a long lean body. She even recalled at one point where she was considered too special a diamond to hide among the hills of her countryside home in Italy, surpassing her brothers and her fair-maiden mother. Though she hadn't seen her family in years, she wasn't planning on seeing them again anytime soon. Even as old as she was, someone would've thought she was a simple girl trying to find her place in the world.
By the time it was time for her to move up in this world, she had been shoved aside and treated like she was below dirt and worms, thus she abandoned all hope for love and sympathy form others. So, she hung up her dress and knitting needles in exchange for a mechanics book and sweatpants and hoodies. And damn her, she was okay with it. She even reveled in her own self-made sorrow, spending her own time away from others and doing things her way.
Wrench switched positions and linked her fingers behind her neck, swinging her leg absently. She wafted at the air, and smiled when a gust of wind made a few stray pieces of curly hair swing around her face, tickling her nose and cheeks.
A strange predatory scent suddenly tainted the musky air. Wrench's eyes flew open.
She frowned; looking in front of her, she sniffing the contaminated air with a sharp nose and quick senses, trying to find where the stench came from. It was something of an old scent to her. It ticked something inside her. The scent mixed with something else; almost human.
How curious, Wrench though, sitting in a straight back position, ears open and alert. Her eyes darted this way and that, scanning the black evening with her sharp and skilled sight; nothing unusual or eerie. Not to her, at least.
Wrench gave up trying to name the scent, and flipped off the branch, landing lightly on her heels, not making the slightest sound with her boots. Her hood slapped her neck when she landed, and she adjusted back it over her head. Making her way over fallen tree limbs and around shrubbery, she began to follow the scent on quick feet.
It didn't take her long to hit old Wickery Bridge. Or, what was left of it.
The bridge had collapsed into the water, and splinters of old oak surrounded the water's rocks and ferns. Some of what was left of the bridge stuck out dangerously and looked like stakes stuck in the ground. But what was stranger, was that an old pickup truck sat in the water, lights on, motor running. Wrench cocked her head to the side, gazing at the car in the water, right under where the bridge should have been.
"Now that is just weird," Wrench said out loud. A loud scream made Wrench's attention shift up toward a group of weeping willows; a cry of anger.
Two figures were brawling with each other. One silhouette had dark hair that resembled sea waves in the wind, and his arm was bent at a strange angle. She subconsciously knew his eyes were as green as leaves in the summer. The other figure had a cap of dark hair that looked soft like doe pelt, and he looked smaller than the other one. Wrench knew his eyes were black as the night sky between stars.
Wrench bounded over the river's running water, landing so feathery and light on the other side that she didn't even hear it. Not even the rocks moved under her boots. Wrench jogged silently and carefully over to the scene, slipping her nimble body between a pair of dark prickly bushes, watching the rumble with fascination.
I wonder who will win, she thought as the wavy haired one punched the other quite hard in the jaw, and then she flinched when he threw the other against the trunk of a willow tree.
She was watching so intently she didn't see the figure in the eighteenth century gown enter the clearing, gunning for the one with the wavy hair.
Wait...that isn't Katherine is it? Wrench pulled back her pale lips and hissed to herself.
Wrench hated Katherine. The beautiful golden girl Katherine had caught the attention of her two older brothers, Stefan and Damon, and even she changed them, wanting to love them both instead of loving one. She committed suicide after Wrench's brothers said she needed to pick one brother. And Wrench's brothers killed each other because of that. But because of her selfish little self, her brothers now didn't even know she was a vampire.
Because my brothers are so ignorant and self-centered, Wrench thought bitterly. But wait...I killed myself because I didn't know if I was a vampire or not. I just didn't want to live anymore. And now look where I am.
The female seemed to have the strength to pry the strangling fingers of the wavy haired one away from the dark-haired one, and she threw her weight to the side, taking the captured hand with her. The wavy haired one flew away from the one on the ground.
Something else ticked inside Wrench again. They looked so...familiar. The dark-haired one rose from the ground, and walked over to grip the chin of the female. Wrench watched with curiosity, raising a perfect brow when he probed beneath the girl's lip.
They're vampires, Wrench thought. That's what the scent was. It was a vampire's scent; musky but sweet at the same time.
Wrench couldn't get what they were saying, so she stayed hidden for a long time. Until her mind started giving her names. Names she never wanted to hear again.
Stefan is the green-eyed one. Damon is the black-eyed one. But that wasn't possible. How in the hell did her brothers end up in Fell's Church like her? And isn't that a high school girl she had heard of? Elena Something?
She felt the grip of fear and white hot rage ripple through her, so she took a small step back to escape before she caused more problems. But a twig snapped beneath her, giving away her position. All heads in the clearing turned in her general direction, so she kept still like a statue and sent a small prayer.
"Hey!" Damon shouted, walking forward a little. "Who's there?"
Damon started walking towards her hiding spot. Twirling on her heel, Wrench let her leg muscles do the work, taking her through the forest on strong legs that were swift and strong. Behind her, she could hear Damon's matching stride follow her through the thicket. Wrench unleashed her Power, sending it flowing into her body, her fingers curling into claws, teeth growing sharper, a tail stretching from her tail bone…
A great black leopard sprinted towards her apartment that sat above the mechanic shop, non-stop for the next five miles, avoiding the roads and well known trails. She held up barriers in her mind, keeping any Power away from her head, and ran harder. Rabbits and squirrels scampered away from the beast, fearful her long teeth and fast reflexes. Up ahead, the rain hadn't slowed the least bit, so by the time she reached the boundaries of her complex she was soaked to the bone and breathing heavy.
The metal gate was locked, but it gave her the shadowy cover she needed to reform into her human self again, letting the fur melt away and her claws retract into her finger bones. After giving the lock a brief tug, it fell into the mud at her feet and she jogged to the back of the building to her own little abode that sat above the mechanics shop.
Using a small copper key, she let herself into the main foyer behind the front of the shop, climbing a narrow set of stairs into a small hallway that held six tiny studio apartments. Hers was the last on the right, closest to the forest and the one window with the greatest view.
Her small space was void of most personal taste, only a twin bed with pillows and quilts beside a small nightstand with a lamp, a rough rug nestled in the middle above a cement floor, and a small dresser that held whatever small amount of clothing she had. Her bathroom was simple gray tile with a shower head, a toilet and a sink with a cracked mirror.
She liked it that way.
After a hot shower and her wet clothes stuffed into a hamper, she emerged in sweat pants and a black wife beater when her door rattled with a hard knock.
"Come in!" she yelled, and a tanned face with dark green eyes and dark brown hair popped in. She chuckled at Zack's disheveled hair. "Nice hair, Bolt."
Zack laughed a warm sound. Bolt was given to Zack out of habit because his original nickname was Dolt because he had a habit of being a half-wit, so Bolt just stuck. "Are you planning on missing poker night?" he teased.
Wrench laughed. "Of course not. I'm coming. Just got back," she answered.
Bolt leaned against the doorjamb and smirked. "Oh? From where?"
"I would tell you but then again it's none of your business," she retorted.
Zack rolled his eyes, and smirked. "Ok. But I think your hiding something." He chuckled.
She looked at him. "Who, me? Hiding something? Oh, please Bolt. You don't know the difference between left and right; how are you going to figure me out if you never finished kindergarten?" She yelped and ducked a tossed hair brush at her.
Bolt grabbed her and mussed her hair, slinging an arm over her shoulders and escorted her out of her room. "You are a class A pain in the ass, Wrench."
She ducked under his arm and yanked her long hair into a tight ponytail and followed Bolt into another room where the employee lounge was. The only difference was that the metal table that usually occupied the space was replaced by a green felt table with plenty of chairs to go around, along with snacks and alcohol of choice. They weren't the ones who got their first, though.
Wrench saw Zane and Jack Borington smile widely and strode up to wrap an arm around her shoulder. Zane's long hair usually swept his shoulders, but he always kept it up in a ponytail at the back of his neck. His freckled face complimented his grey eyes, smiling a crooked yet white-toothed smile. He wore a loose black shirt, but it hugged his stomach, and his six-pack poked out a bit. Jack, his younger brother, had dark brown hair that had wisps of it at the back of his neck and in his blue eyes. He was as muscular as his big brother.
Zane spoke. "We thought you weren't going to make it, Tanya." He used Wrench's real name, and Wrench smiled, suddenly feeling amused by his statement.
Wrench poked his side. "It's the only time of the month I can fee accomplished after kicking everyone's ass," she said smoothly. The boys laughed and Bolt chortled.
The Lorrel twins came through the door quite loudly, making everyone in the room turn around. Blake had a white face with milky brown eyes and coal-black hair. Jake, his identical twin, had green eyes instead of brown. Both boys had square jaws and white teeth and wide smiles. Blake was straight; Jake was gay.
Jake skipped up literally and hugged Wrench tenderly, while Blake slapped her back. He looked her over as if buying a horse. "Did you just get up from a nap? Because you look like you got flushed down Satan's crapper," Wrench flashed him a dirty look. Zane laughed heartily.
Another charming laugh came from behind her. She turned around. Brown spiky hair; a huge six-pack; crystal blue eyes; a straight and white-toothed smile; perfectly tanned skin; Conner O'Donnel smiled down at her. Wrench melted on the inside. She loved the way he looked at her like that; so calmly and sweet, with a matching personality. Wrench had a secret crush on Conner, and she hoped and wished he felt the same way. Wrench had forbidden herself from ever loving another person. But Conner was an exception; and maybe Zane, too.
"Move it, Salvatore!" A rough voice and shove made Wrench go tumbling into Conner arms, and he caught her swiftly. Wrench turned her head and saw Lucas Hawkins stalk by, narrowing his eyes and he sneered in her direction. She sneered back. He looked like a younger version of the shop's owner, Daniel, probably because he was Daniel's only born son. Lucas had brown hair and blue eyes with a good build. But the physical description stopped there. Lucas was bitter and cold; Dan was nice and warm. Lucas didn't like her for some reason. In fact, he hated her guts. She had done nothing to him, and he treated her like dirt, which he knew she hated.
Wrench gave him one last look before finding a seat next to Conner and Zane, crossing her legs and finding her pack of cigarettes in her pocket with a solid gold lighter. After she lit up, she surveyed the assembled and felt a small swell of pride that she had earned her respect with these men. Each and every on-except Lucas-had proven a good friend and a better colleague in the shop. Sure, she could handle a task on her own, but she loved the loud, vulgar men she had grown to care for.
"Okay, people. Place your bets and let's see who gets their ass kicked tonight." Blake shuffled and passed it to his left, where Jake cut them, then passed them back to his twin. "Do I have an opening bet?"
Life is pretty good, she thought, puffing her worries away.