Hello everyone! I hope you guys are having a great day so far. Anyway, before I start this chapter, I just wanted to say that the reason I made Chloe's hair blue is because I wanted something that everyone would be able to recognize about a necromancer so they could tell Chloe apart. I know tha. it's pretty dumb, but it was the only thing I could really think of. I'm sorry if you don't like it. Anyway, I've been really busy with homework so it took a while for me to write this. I just wrote most of this today. I hope that you guys like it. Also, for you fellow Chlerek shippers, Derek WILL be in the story in a few chapters. So don't worry. Also, a few other characters. This might start off a little boring, but it won't be for long. Why do you think I put one of the genres as 'horror'? Okay, I'm sorry, I'm writing too much. Here's the chapter! I hope you guys like it!
I immediately reached into my red cloak and retrieved a dagger, even thought I had never used it before. The twig had not snapped very near to us, but it was still by us. Simon stood, preparing a spell. My heart pounded insanely quick against my chest, desperate to break through my ribcage. I was horrified.
Was this the end? Would Simon die in these woods? Would they take me away-
"Relax, sweetheart. I'm not going to hurt you or your friend," came a deep voice, loud and clear. It did not belong to a werewolf. Werewolves had raspy, rough voices. This one was smooth.
However, I didn't relax. This man could know I was a necromancer. He could kill me. Who knew what weapons he possessed?
Simon, on the contrary, calmed at the sound of the man's voice. Was it his father? I highly doubted that. The voice belonged to a younger man. Perhaps he was Peter's age.
At the thought of Peter, my heart ached. I missed Peter terribly. Was he alright? How were things going with his father? Did he miss me as much as I missed him?
I shook my head, returning my attention to Simon. "What are you doing?" I whispered furiously.
"Rafe!" Simon yelled. I shushed him. He rolled his eyes. "He's my friend, Chloe. We're fine."
I lowered my dagger, but kept it in my hand. I didn't fully trust Simon. Did I lead myself into a trap?
The man finally stepped out of the shadows. Rafe. He was obviously Native American. Rafe was tall, at least a few inches over six feet. He was well built, wearing a simple undershirt with nothing on top. He wore black trousers, with rips in several places along with dirt stains, and had worn out boots. No coat. How was he surviving? Did he recently lose his coat? It was freezing! It did not help that it was beginning to rain.
"Hello, Simon. Great to see you once again. I was worried for you and your father. Speaking of your father, is he well? Where is he?"
Simon stepped forward, just as I stepped back. He acted as if it was normal to only wear an undershirt in such weather. It wasn't acceptable in summertime, let alone winter! How did Rafe endure standing there like that?
"I don't know where Father is. We had to leave- the werewolves had started a fire. Dad most likely escaped, though I haven't seen him since. That was just a little over an hour ago. This is a large village. What are you doing here, anyway?"
"I was trying to find the necromancer."
My heart pounded once again furiously. I immediately reached for my hood, pulling it closer around my head. My feet pushed me away slowly. I prayed Rafe would not notice it.
Simon glanced back at me. I looked down, as if my black boots were more interesting than the mysterious man who had been looking for me.
He turned back to him. "Why do you want to find them? What do they have that you need? Why would you even want to get near them? Everyone, everywhere in England is looking for the poor thing! I feel awful for them. I wonder what it must be like, living in constant fear like that. It is not like us, where there are quite a few sorcerers left."
"My childhood friend, Peter, had a message for her. Though he never told me her name. He also said she could help me. Everyone will be looking for me as well, anyway. I am the final skinwalker. Annie was captured, and Maya was shot by a human. Not that the girl did not deserve it. She was a lying bastard."
What? He knew Peter? He also knew Maya? How did he know them? Why would Peter lead him to me? What did I possibly have that Rafe would need?
He continued. "Not that I will ever find the girl. Speaking of girls, who is your gorgeous friend over there?" That caused me to blush insanely, making me as red as a strawberry that Simon was buying along the street when the werewolves found him.
I felt Rafe's eyes on me. I slowly looked up and met his dark brown eyes. He looked at me with curiosity. Did he figure it out? Or had he known all along?
"What is your name?" He inquired.
I swallowed down the fear that they would feed me to the werewolves and replied,"Chloe."
"And why are you with Simon? Where are you headed?"
"I was headed for America. I planned on taking a ship to Massachusetts and remaining there. Because I was running out of food, I decided I would help Simon and he would hunt food for us." I was being honest. Hopefully, Simon was as well, and wasn't leading me into a trap. Even though I doubted Peter would do this to me, his father would be more than willing to lead the werewolves to me. He's a supernatural himself, but he feels so strongly against necromancers that it would not surprise me in the slightest.
"That's brilliant, Chloe. I may just have to join you."
Was he waiting for me to announce what I was, or did Rafe truly not know that I was who he was looking for?
I blushed once again. "That would be lovely." Neither Simon nor Rafe noticed the sarcasm in that statement.
Then, lightning flashed brightly across the sky. A few seconds later, thunder boomed louder than a gunshot. Rain began to pour harder. Rafe just glared at the sky. I planted one more foot behind me, and his gaze snapped to mine. "You're the necromancer, correct? You look just how Peter described. But he did not say you were so pretty. I was expecting some girl with a nasty face."
Before I could reply, Simon said,"I hadn't expected that either. I hardly believed her when she told me she was one. But the hair matched the necklace and her eyes. I wonder how Samuel Lyle made something like that pendant. How did he manage to cause the necklace to change her hair color? What has he been experimenting with?"
Rafe shrugged and his eyes went back to mine. I blushed furiously. He must be angry that I did not tell him. Simone's reaction told me this most likely wasn't a trap. I still held my dagger. I was not going to take any chances.
"Where did you get the necklace?"
"Peter," I replied quickly. "He won it while gambling."
"Did he know that it was for necromancers? Did he try to win it just for you?"
"No. He received it before we met."
Rafe shrugged once again. Why did he have to do that so often?
"If you were heading for America, why would you decide to travel with Simon? He will only slow you down." He smirked. An odd feeling in my stomach- still pleasant -made me remove my eyes from his.
"No I will not,"Simon argued. I released a breath I had not realized I had been holding in. Simon was distracting Rafe from me. I felt almost pressured under his intense stare.
As they argued, I wondered if it would be a smart idea to try and run away from them. Maybe, I would find just enough nuts, berries and edible plants to survive until the next village. There, I could sneak into a house like I normally did. These woods seemed endless. But Rafe's eyes would snap to mine every time I took a step. If I froze, he looked at Simon again. Eventually, I decided to sit against a tree. The lightning and thunder had ceased, and only a drizzle of rain made its way through the branches of the trees.
I was freezing cold by the time their conversation ended. Shivering, I huddled closer to the tree I was leaning against.
"Oh my goodness, Chloe,"Simon exclaimed. "You must be as cold as an icicle! That cloak is rather thin; Rafe could keep you warm. He surely wouldn't mind, would you, Rafe?"
"Quite the opposite, Simon,"he said with a smile.
"What? N-no. Y-y-you don't h-have to do th-that. You're f-f-fine. I'm fine. N-no n-n-need for that-t," I protested. Rafe still planted himself down right next to me and wrapped a muscular arm around my shoulders. Surprisingly, he was extremely warm. I gasped softly at the heat radiating off of him. Still, I gave one more protest. I felt awkward with the arm of a man I has just met wrapped around me, his hand resting lazily on my abdomen. Simon sat against a tree on the opposite side.
"B-but the w-werewo-olves," I thought aloud. My stutter was no longer from nerves and embarrassment. Even with Rafe's warmth, I was cold. He pulled me in tighter, although I'm not sure he realized it.
"They won't look through here," Rafe informed me. "They doubt that we are even brave enough to rest here; most supernaturals assume they'll set the woods on fire while they sleep. So, the werewolves rarely search the forest."
I nodded. Suddenly, sleep caught up with me, and my neck became too weak to support my head. My head laid against Rafe's shoulder. He scooted closer, and even though I still felt uncomfortable with the situation, I did not push myself away. My eyes closed, and sleep welcomed me.
My last thought was: "Is that thing behind that bush over there an animal corpse?"
Rafe had been wrong.
I was sprinting. My cloak had been ripped off by tree branches. My feet were bare. Blue hair flew into my eyes. Growls and yells erupted behind me, frightening me immensely. A cry made its way out of my throat. I knew I was going to die.
My short legs were giving out, and I was tripping over anything my foot could find. My breathing came out in loud pants. My eyes watered. My arms and legs were covered in scratches. My blood oozed out of them. My feet ached.
I suddenly heard a deep cry of pain from behind me, though it did not cause me to stop. It made me fly faster. The trees were a blur around me as I ran. I could not die this way. There was so much I had not done, had not seen. What if I could see Peter again?
At that, I increased my speed, desperate to outrun werewolves who could run at this pace without a single problem. I had to see Peter again, inform him I was alright.
"Stop! Please, please stop! I promise I won't hurt you!" yelled a voice. The roughness told me it belonged to a werewolf, though I didn't hear the insanity in it, unlike all the others. That caused me to pause.
When I turned around, I saw one werewolf. What? There were four the last time I turned around! Where were they? I glanced behind the remaining werewolf.
There were two werewolves on the ground behind him, laying in pools of their own blood. Dead.
My gaze snapped to this one's. his green eyes reminded me of emeralds. Such an odd, yet gorgeous, eye color.
He was extremely tall- at least three inches taller than Rafe- with acne-covered skin. His skin was an olive tone. He had the darkest black colored hair. With the height, muscles, and intense eyes, I was almost certain he was a werewolf.
Only one thing- why did he not look insane? Where was the foam, spilling from his mouth? Where was that crazed look in his eyes?
"Relax," he spoke. We were 50 feet away from each other. He took a few steps closer; I was frozen in my place. "I won't hurt you. I want to help you-" his stare suddenly flew to my left and widened. "Du-"
A roar tore out of the werewolf's throat as it jumped on me. I screamed as I stared at the beast's foaming mouth. "NECROMANCER," it growled. It was laying on top if me and I could not escape. My hand reached for my dagger, but touched nothing- the dagger was in my cloak.
Its nails dug into my skin. They imbedded themselves deep into my forearms. I had no choice but to let the whimper escape from my throat. The werewolf smiled, showing off yellow, sharp teeth.
"You're de-" he began. Then, I heard the sound of a knife piercing flesh, and the color drained from his face. His mouth worked but did not let a word out. Blood poured from it, onto my cheek. I winced in disgust. Then, I heard the knife being pulled out, and then whoever murdered him tried to roll him off of me. I cried out- his nails were so deep in my skin, so long, that they only pushed into my flesh more.
"Oh, shoot." The werewolf from before swore. I couldn't see; the insane werewolf's forehead now rested against the side of mine. My eye met his dead one, and I shivered.
His nails were slowly removed, one by one. It was extremely painful. Finally, the werewolf rolled off of me. Now, I saw the other one. His eyes met mine and were immediately filled with relief. "It's you," he whispered.
"What is me?" I inquired, confused. But he shook his head.
"I'm Derek. I want to help you. I'm not like the other werewolves, if I didn't just prove that. I want to come with you."
Well, I hope you guys liked it. What do you guys think is gonna happen? Let me know! Please review this for me. I'll buy you Taco Bell, okay? Does that sound good to you? Then review, please! I love you guys!
