Title: Revelations
Author: Ori
Spoilers: I have vague references to the final episode but this is au.
Summary: Sophia Anderson journeys to the small Washington town of Wolf Lake
looking for answers about her past.
Author Notes: This is a story that has been haunting me. I was thinking of
writing a challenge and posting it at the yahoo groups site for Wolf Lake
but I knew that I couldn't let anyone else write this story. Basically the
idea is what if Marie hadn't married Matt, but instead ran from Wolf Lake
carrying the unborn child she never told him about. I am warning everyone
now there will be no Ruby and John. They do not exist in this world. Sophia
will also be extremely different. And you soon will see why. Luke, Matt,
Marie, Sherman, and the others will be in the story. Still no Ruby and
John, I have tried to write them and I can't, so sorry any rampant Rohn
fans but no go here. Ships will Sophia and Luke, the ever-popular
Vivian/Matt/Marie triangle.
Side note: My Wolf Lake/Charmed series is unrelated to this and is continuing. I will probably be working on that after I post this because it is becoming too epic to be left alone too long or it begins to grow. The fifth Harry Potter book will be considered short in comparison to Raidho (The name of the series that the story is growing into) when it is done. Also if anyone is reading this I turn twenty-three on Monday, February 9 and my present this year is having oral surgery so please be kind and review.
Truth has never been a huge part of my life. My earliest memories are of my mother telling me to never answer any questions about who we were and where we were from. And while she would never say to straight out to lie, well, she definitely encouraged it. She would always say, "So you will be safe Sophia." But she never told me safe from what. She would just say that she was doing what was right, she was protecting me.
I of course grew sick of this after several years of moving every so often, of never being able to make any close friends because I would have to leave them. By the time I was thirteen I was pissed off. By the time of my fourteenth birthday I was scared. That was when the dreams started, the night before I turned fourteen. I didn't think anything of the first one. What did a dream of being a wolf matter in the whole scheme of things? Then the dream came the next night, and the night after that, and again and again. For a month I had the dream; it got so bad that I didn't sleep for fear of dreaming it again. The freedom I felt in the dream was so unlike anything else I'd ever experienced, yet I was afraid of it. I couldn't tell my mother about it since she had always been a practical person who discouraged anything that had to do with what she viewed as nonrealistic. Then the other signs started, I varied between hyperactivity and dullness, and my eyes glowed an unnatural yellow if I got mad.
Exactly thirty-three days after the night of the first dream I began to experience extreme stomach pain. Once it was so bad that I fell to the floor in gym. They called my mother, and from the moment she saw me in the nurse's office I could tell she knew what was happening. I had never in all my life seen that look in her eyes. Fear, pain, determination, and acknowledgment of what was to come in one glance. Once we were in the car she gave me a shot with some type of sedative and I passed out. She took me to our home of the moment, a rather secluded farmhouse we were renting , and I don't really remember much after that. Just the pain that felt like it was tearing me apart and my mother helping me survive. After what seemed to be an eternity, but was only a few hours, I had a brand new skin. I woke up the next morning and saw my mother, her eyes red but dry, and she told me for the first time about my father. How he had been a sheriff's deputy in a small town where she grew up and how they fell in love even though they were from different lifestyles. Silly me, I thought he had money and she didn't. She then told me of how Native Americans told tales of people who could change between the form of humans into animal skins, most commonly the wolf. She told me how my father had this ability; that he had passed it onto me. I didn't believe her at first, but then she chanted what she later told me was a sixth century hymn and I felt the world change. I was no longer looking at off-color human eyes, but the eyes of a hunter.
Life was even crazier after that. We moved to Canada for a while. Nice secluded forests so I could learn to deal with what I was. Mom became distant, as if she was afraid of me. It wasn't until two years later, after her death, that I learned from her journal that she was scared for me. We were living in Virginia when I was seventeen, when I came to found my house burnt down and my mother dead. The air was horrible, sulfur and flames and the dusty sent of my mother's blood. But above those smells were scents that were different than my mother, or the firemen. They were male, quite a few and they were like me. Shapeshifters, skinwalkers, murders.
I was fourteen when I learned the truth and my world was shaken. I was seventeen when my world was stolen from me. I have spent the past five years moving from place to place using whatever resources possible to piece together the rest. But I am closer than ever. A month ago I received an email from a "friend of a friend" who knew details about me no living person could know. In two days I am meeting him in Seattle, and this time I know it is not another dead end. This time I know I will get the answers I need.and the vengeance that I crave.
Side note: My Wolf Lake/Charmed series is unrelated to this and is continuing. I will probably be working on that after I post this because it is becoming too epic to be left alone too long or it begins to grow. The fifth Harry Potter book will be considered short in comparison to Raidho (The name of the series that the story is growing into) when it is done. Also if anyone is reading this I turn twenty-three on Monday, February 9 and my present this year is having oral surgery so please be kind and review.
Truth has never been a huge part of my life. My earliest memories are of my mother telling me to never answer any questions about who we were and where we were from. And while she would never say to straight out to lie, well, she definitely encouraged it. She would always say, "So you will be safe Sophia." But she never told me safe from what. She would just say that she was doing what was right, she was protecting me.
I of course grew sick of this after several years of moving every so often, of never being able to make any close friends because I would have to leave them. By the time I was thirteen I was pissed off. By the time of my fourteenth birthday I was scared. That was when the dreams started, the night before I turned fourteen. I didn't think anything of the first one. What did a dream of being a wolf matter in the whole scheme of things? Then the dream came the next night, and the night after that, and again and again. For a month I had the dream; it got so bad that I didn't sleep for fear of dreaming it again. The freedom I felt in the dream was so unlike anything else I'd ever experienced, yet I was afraid of it. I couldn't tell my mother about it since she had always been a practical person who discouraged anything that had to do with what she viewed as nonrealistic. Then the other signs started, I varied between hyperactivity and dullness, and my eyes glowed an unnatural yellow if I got mad.
Exactly thirty-three days after the night of the first dream I began to experience extreme stomach pain. Once it was so bad that I fell to the floor in gym. They called my mother, and from the moment she saw me in the nurse's office I could tell she knew what was happening. I had never in all my life seen that look in her eyes. Fear, pain, determination, and acknowledgment of what was to come in one glance. Once we were in the car she gave me a shot with some type of sedative and I passed out. She took me to our home of the moment, a rather secluded farmhouse we were renting , and I don't really remember much after that. Just the pain that felt like it was tearing me apart and my mother helping me survive. After what seemed to be an eternity, but was only a few hours, I had a brand new skin. I woke up the next morning and saw my mother, her eyes red but dry, and she told me for the first time about my father. How he had been a sheriff's deputy in a small town where she grew up and how they fell in love even though they were from different lifestyles. Silly me, I thought he had money and she didn't. She then told me of how Native Americans told tales of people who could change between the form of humans into animal skins, most commonly the wolf. She told me how my father had this ability; that he had passed it onto me. I didn't believe her at first, but then she chanted what she later told me was a sixth century hymn and I felt the world change. I was no longer looking at off-color human eyes, but the eyes of a hunter.
Life was even crazier after that. We moved to Canada for a while. Nice secluded forests so I could learn to deal with what I was. Mom became distant, as if she was afraid of me. It wasn't until two years later, after her death, that I learned from her journal that she was scared for me. We were living in Virginia when I was seventeen, when I came to found my house burnt down and my mother dead. The air was horrible, sulfur and flames and the dusty sent of my mother's blood. But above those smells were scents that were different than my mother, or the firemen. They were male, quite a few and they were like me. Shapeshifters, skinwalkers, murders.
I was fourteen when I learned the truth and my world was shaken. I was seventeen when my world was stolen from me. I have spent the past five years moving from place to place using whatever resources possible to piece together the rest. But I am closer than ever. A month ago I received an email from a "friend of a friend" who knew details about me no living person could know. In two days I am meeting him in Seattle, and this time I know it is not another dead end. This time I know I will get the answers I need.and the vengeance that I crave.
