Virtual Season Two – Episode #26
"Can't Have Just One"Part One of Three
Based on the cancelled TV series, Wolf Lake,
written by Sapphira
Sequel to "The Virtual First Season Continuation"
Disclaimer: Don't own any of it… not the characters (unless they are my original creations) the music, or the original TV series in any form… I am making no profit off of this, or ANY of my other fanfics… I'm writing it purely for my own enjoyment, and hopefully for the enjoyment of some of the fellow fans.
Summary – Tensions between Sophia and Luke begin to rise, while Matt and John attempt to uncover the murderer in their midst… and the destiny of one male Skinwalker and the life of a human woman unknowingly begins to entwine…
Timeline – One week after the events of "Where The Wild Things Play"…
Europe
Veins of lightening lit the clouds, dancing whips of white-hot energy illuminating the midnight sky, forking across the expanse in a brilliant, dazzling display of nature. Thunder crashed overhead and the earth rumbled and rolled with the sheer ferocity of the storm.
The driving rain began to fall in heavy, suffocating sheets, instantly soaking everything that it touched, including the lone figure making his way through it. But he didn't seem to even be aware of the dangerous elements raging on above him, as he never altered from his course.
A bolt struck nearby. Viciously shaking the ground beneath his feet, filling the air with its ear-splitting repercussion, and the scent of burning ozone, but he didn't even hesitate. It was as if he was either a part of it all… or so completely separate that he couldn't find it within himself to be concerned.
He made his way steadily over the stone path in front of him, trees flanking him to either side. Strong wind ran through their rustling leaves, singing through the branches that threatened to snap under the pressure. He finally came to a small clearing that served as the front yard to a reclusive small mansion. Its only sign of life one light burning faintly behind its front door.
He walked up the granite steps leading to the entrance, tossing his long soaked hair back from his face, highlighted by the rain drops clinging to his emotionless profile, before turning the knob under his hand.
Walking out of the storm and into the warm enclosure of his current residence, Damien carefully shrugged out of his coat, leaving it to dry by the door. Boot heels clicked across the dark wood flooring as he made his way down the hallway. Echoes of the storm resounding within the walls of the house.
Entering his dark study illuminated only by a fire glowing in the hearth at one end, he casually reached over and flipped on the TV sitting against the wall on his way to the private bathroom adjacent to the office. When it tuned in, the sound of a TV reporter's foreign voice was the only sound that came from within the entire house as he moved so silently into the open bathroom. Flipping the light switch on the interior wall. Words easily translated filtered in weakly through the open door. He listened for a moment.
"In other news… Officials are apparently still baffled by the recent string of explosions accruing in several different cities across the continent. Speculation has risen in regards to the purpose one might have in the assault of these locations, as none apparently serve any military or political purpose. There have also been some rumors surfacing that the recent bombings might be connected to another two that occurred in Russia earlier in the week. Russian officials refuse to comment, even though the death counts continue to rise…"
Damien ignored the rest. Turning to look at himself in the mirror. Noting a few stubborn streaks of dried blood trailing over one side of his cheek and down the curve of his throat, as well as staining into the lines of his palms.
Turning the faucet on, he submerged both of his hands in the flow. Water turning a pale pink as it swirled down the drain. Finally leaving his hands clean and unmarked.
Cupping some water in his hands, he splashed his face. Cleansing away the proof of his latest project.
Looking back up at himself in the mirror as he continued to lean over the sink, he watched the water drip from his face, now physically devoid of the crimson stain of pain and death. He studied his reflection for a moment. No emotion of any kind rising to the surface. His features a perfect mask. Tossing his still damp hair back from his face yet again, he looked around for a rubber band to fix it, but hesitated upon finally spotting one.
Glancing at his reflection again, he let his hand fall back away... and he left his hair loose.
Turning away, he flipped the light off as he left the bathroom. He kept walking, reaching over to turn the TV off as he went by just as the reporter announced an important breaking news story believed to be in connection to the chain of explosions that were rocking their continent almost on a nightly basis.
Silence filled the house once more as the screen died.
Walking over to turn the light off that sat in behind his desk, he casually glanced over to the smooth, barren tabletop, at the plane ticket resting there. Destination: Australia.
Pulling the small chain, he submerged the room in darkness, and unerringly made his way through the embracing shadows towards what would pass as his bedroom for this night.
Smokey Mountains
Shadows merged, darkness coalesced… Moonlight cast interesting plays of light here and there, but for the most part, the world surrounding him was swathed in blackness. And it suited him just fine.
He worked his way through the strange forests, dark blonde pelt rippling under hard muscle and sinew and bone. Not particularly caring which direction he shifted, or which path he moved towards. The purpose of him coming to such a place as this, was not to have any particular plan. All he wanted to do was lose himself momentarily in the embrace of his Otherness.
The past few months had been difficult. He hadn't been prepared for just how much. The separation from the Pack had proven to him why so many of their kind would be willing to sacrifice their lives in favor of being exiled. To never touch the fur or the mind of another of his species… it was a hell with no name, for its only option could be a human one. And the trauma such an event would create was not anything that could be relayed in human terms or human expression.
For that reason alone, he no longer knew if he should feel superior to the ungulates, or envy over the simple complexities of their emotions in comparison to his.
But he hadn't been exiled. He had chosen to leave. For many different reasons, he had chosen to leave the only world he had ever truthfully known. And they were for reasons he could now admit to having a little difficulty remembering, so much had changed.
Living amongst the humans had taken his toll… and not in a good way. He had feared he was beginning to lose himself in that world. He had felt like his other nature was slowly beginning to die off from the pressure of humanity and surrounding concrete. So with a soul full of panic of the likes he was unfamiliar with, he had come here.
He had made his way as quickly as possible to the closest potential haven at hand. And even though the mountains were unfamiliar, and there were none of his kind to answer his call, it was a beautiful territory, wild and untouched in areas, with plenty of prey to hunt and feed upon as he struggled to heal a part of himself that up until a few months back, he hadn't even realized could die.
Losing yourself to your wolven nature was a drug that he hadn't been able to refuse after being away from Wolf Lake for so long. He'd lost count of the days and nights he had spent in this form. For as long as he maintained it, the world that he had faced once upon as Tyler Creed had no meaning. Had no recognition. No basis in his reality.
And he was all too willing to give it up. That said something about his true nature, and the Skinwalkers in general. If forced to make a decision between their 'human' existence surviving, and their wolven one, the later was almost always chosen. This was just one of the many little things that separated them even farther from homo-sapiens.
For all his so-called sophistication and political ambitions, Tyler had allowed himself to become immersed in the most basic aspect of his nature. Run, Hunt, Kill, Feed, Live, keep running… He let the human world slip away from his current reality, and it had reached a point where he now knew he'd slipped into another world that he had taken for granted. A world that he had used, but had never really allowed himself to be a part of. Not really. Could any member of their dwindling species say otherwise? They were all guilty of turning their backs on what they were at heart. All guilty of pushing the Otherness under the restriction of human styled lives that they had no claim upon.
To be Skinwalker was to walk a very fine line, balanced between two different worlds… or so they thought. Maybe it wasn't meant to be a balancing act. Maybe they were supposed to lead a completely different and unique existence. Although damned if he knew what that was anymore. Once upon a time he had thought that he had known. His greatest dream had been to step out into the light and have the entire world acknowledge their existence. To acknowledge their superiority.
But he had learned a few months ago what happened when the shield of protection that had surrounded them for centuries was removed. He had finally been forced to face what had nearly driven their species to extinction in the first place, and the only way he could describe it, was a saying he had heard a long time ago… You stare into the Abyss long enough, and eventually it'll stare right back. He had seen the Hunters. Had spent time amongst them. He had seen what they were capable of, and what they had done to Skinwalkers hundreds of years ago. But in that glimpse into the past, he had also seen a part of himself... And that similar reflection was still all too raw in his mind.
Maybe that was what was really at the core of him having allowed himself to be consumed by his primal nature. To having spent weeks within this form. He didn't want to go back to the form of a man. He didn't want to have to face his past.
Besides, it wasn't like he had a home to go back to anyways. Everything that he once considered his life was now gone. Scattered to the winds like the ashes of old.
He couldn't go back to the world of Wolf Lake. He couldn't move forward into the world of the humans. There was no other choice, then the one that was at hand. And that was to keep doing what he was doing, and allow that side of him die that had once gone by the name of Tyler Creed.
And that was exactly what he intended to do. He would stay in these woods for the remainder of his lifetime, and the memories he had of walking on two legs would eventually slip entirely away into the sands of the past.
And not a moment too soon.