Oh, and you all thought that your families were bad. Really! Mavyn's got it pretty rough. Feel bad for her, and yes Remember, you are suppose to hate Lucinda and Ivan.
Chapter 4: Happy Hunting
It was nighttime. A frigid wind was blowing and the whole town was shut and locked up. However inside the house of the Agafetei family, two people inside were awake. While Lucinda, Mirela and Viktor slept peacefully unaware of any danger that was in the village, Mayvn and Standislav sat in the kitchen.
The kitchen was dimly lit by a few candles, and a small ray of moonlight flooded through the window from the full moon that lit up the night sky. Mayvn's icy blue eyes were gleaming as she glared out the window and back at her brother. She was eighteen at the time and was wearing her usual black hunter's garb and knee high leather boots. Her strait, black hair was down, and layers in the front framed her face. Her slim form was leaning back on a chair, with her feet up on the table. While Standislav was sitting, nervously fiddling with a pistol. He was only nine, but Mayvn had reluctantly taught him how to fire a pistol. Mayvn was calmly tracing a silver dagger with her fingers.
"You seem calm," Standislav noted, trying to be brave. A piercing gaze from Mayvn and silence was what followed. It was a rare occasion that Mayvn spoke. Although she was extremely intellectual and quick witted, Mayvn found silence to be a more peaceful way of life.
A pack of werewolves had been stalking the village for the past several days. Each night, they had killed two or more people only to sneak off into the darkness to wait for the next full moon. Which happened to be that night. The two sat there in silence for what seemed to be like hours. Occasionally one of their parents would go through the kitchen and mumble, "Go to sleep you two." However the two were prepared to sit there all through the night.
Finally, a scream could be heard from somewhere in town. Standislav shot up, nervously clutching his pistol while Mayvn calmly got up and made her way for the door. Once outside Mayvn took a moment to breathe in the cold night air. The wind immediately blew, moving her hair back and away from her face. Despite the lack of rain a crash of lightening came, lighting up her porcelain skin and turning her eyes an unholy blue for a split second.
That was the very jolt she needed. Sheathing her dagger she broke out into a run. She wasn't the least bit panicked but the thrill of the fight that awaited her drove her forward. Her keen hearing picked up her brother, uselessly trying to keep up with her. Rounding several corners and bolting down several narrow streets in the dark, she eventually came to a more open street where two werewolves could be seen, devouring a small child, while her sister cowered in an alley entry nearby.
Wasting no time, Mayvn lunged at the beasts, with a scimitar in each hand (slightly curved swords that are a little shorter than regular swords). She was able to quickly kill the first one, severing its head with one fell swing of a single blade, however the second would not go down as easily. It was obviously an experienced werewolf for it morphed into human form at free will and came at her with a sword that had been cleverly hidden against a house.
Throwing aside her scimitars, she unsheathed her sword and prepared to duel the lycan. No words were exchanged. With the man making the first strike the two began their duel. His moves were heavy, slow, yet fierce. Mayvn fought with speed, grace, while still delivering powerful strikes. As their fight picked up in speed Mayvn's moves increased in complexity. She would need to jump, twirl, and practically waltz in the air to avoid his deadly strikes.
While his sister fiercely dueled this mysterious man, Standislav crept in the shadows breathing heavily. In his right hand, he clutched a pistol loaded with silver bullets. He was fortunate. Were it not for Mayvn's distraction he would have been discovered long ago. Slowly, he entered the open area, aiming his pistol at the creature. However the moment he took another step towards the beast, its enhanced hearing picked him up. Immediately he turned from his duel with Mayvn to make his way towards Standislav. Muttering under her breath about her brother's lack of stealth, she used the brief distraction of the werewolf to take her sword and slice its head clean off.
Slowly she took a handkerchief out of a pocket and began to wipe her sword clean of blood. Standislav slowly approached her, about to apologize when she spoke, "Thank you," she said, sheathing her sword and turning to do the same to her scimitars. She then turned again and started to walk back to their house.
"Uh, you're welcome?" he said, surprised she wasn't angry with him.
"It's all right. If anything, you helped me," she said, continuing to walk. Running faster to catch up to her.
"So do you think the killings will stop now?" he asked.
"It's possible, if so all I see is an opportunity for more sleep," she said.
"Mayvn come on, you just saved that girl's life. You must feel some kind of satisfaction? You're practically a hero," her small brother asked.
"I wasn't saving that girl, that weak, pathetic little thing cowering in a corner; I was killing a nuisance that was keeping me up!" she snapped, angry at his persistence.
"I'm sorry," he said, growing quiet. She nodded, patting him on the back before she opened the door to their house. The moment they entered there mother and father came rushing towards them with Lucinda trailing behind lazily.
"Where have you two been?" Mirela demanded.
"Mother, we're fine, you might see fewer werewolf attacks though," the moment Standislav said that, Mayvn rolled her eyes and prepared for the worst.
"Oh my God! Mayvn you are not going to tell me that you dragged your brother out in the middle of the night to hunt werewolves!" her mother ranted.
"More like he followed me," she muttered.
"What?" she snapped. Mayvn remained silent.
"Mother I went on my own, don't blame----" but his mother was already half way up the stairs following Mayvn.
"Honestly , he could have been killed. He's only nine and you at eighteen are willing to risk his life," she continued. Mayvn continued up to the top of the stairs. She wanted to say, "Do you really think I would let him get hurt? The only one in this hell hole who gives a damn about me!" but she refrained from doing it. She let everything her mother said glance off of her. Finally she reached the bedroom she shared with Lucinda, entered, and shut the door.
Slightly fatigued she laid down on the small bed and began to run her fingers over a small dagger she kept handy. With little grace or silence Lucinda clumsily made her way back to her bed across from Mayvn.
"She's right you know," Lucinda yawned. "You're practically ruining this family," she continued sleepily.
"Come talk to me when you have an argument that mother didn't shove down your throat," she said coldly, not looking up from her dagger.
Being too tired to come up with anything to counter with, Lucinda grumbled a moment and went to bed. After sitting in the silence for a moment, Mayvn got up and went into the bathroom. There was a small bath with a pitcher of water for the two to share and a mirror. Fumbling around for matches she discovered them and lit a candle.
Now able to see she let her long coat fall to the floor and looked at her reflection. Her black shirt revealed the very beginnings of her wrists and soon her eyes wondered down until they gazed down at her fairly recent scars. They were all thin, strait cuts that went across her wrists, tainting her porcelain skin.
There was so much pain she could remember but was too numb to feel. She didn't want to remember it. Each scar told a story, and after what had just happened with her mother, she would need another to account the tale with. Slowly she took the sharpest point of her dagger and dragged it across her wrist. Her skin was thin and that made it all the easier to break. Frequently doing this she let out no cry of pain, nor did she flinch. Her bottom lip quivered a bit, but her eyes seemed to glare contempt at the scars and the fresh cuts. As if they were something that haunted her and she had no control over.
Once she finished she dabbed the blood off of her arms and went to sleep. As perceptive as she was, even she was unable to pick up on the fact that someone was watching her. Watching over her, in fact. Someone who could feel all of her pain and was overwhelmed by it.
Yeah, long story short, Mayvn can kick some serious ass, and she's depressed. She's also a little um, what's the right word? INSANE. She's not quite right up in the head. But that's okay because we love her anyway. REVIEW! Please