New chapter! You may have noticed I put a cover on the story that I made forever ago of Kendall and James. It's hard to see even with the image enlarged but they both have mirrored writing on them which are quotes from Teen Wolf; James' is 'Everyone has it. No one can lose it.' about people's demons, and Kendall's is 'Someone help me' which is a quote from Lydia, who inspired his plot :P enjoy!
School was relatively quiet the next day; people were a little subdued at Jenny's death, but other than that the day was relatively normal. James missed Jenny the most in home ec class; without her as his partner his desk seemed so quiet and empty. But then the teacher moved someone else next to him, whose partner was out with the flu; Kendall. So, there was an upside to everything.
"We have to wait until the water comes back up to the boil," James read the instructions as Kendall cheerfully chopped up some vegetables. "Then put those in. Anything else I can do?"
"You could start washing that pan so we don't have to do it at the end," Kendall replied with a grin. As usual, he was acting like nothing had happened the previous night and James didn't know if he was in denial, or couldn't remember a thing.
"I can do that." He started scrubbing at the pan and looked up, seeing a girl at the desk in front of them sitting with her head in her hands. He knew her to be a friend of Jenny's, and sighed. "Poor Martha. I feel awful about what happened." Once the words were out of his mouth, he figured he shouldn't have said it. Because Kendall's hand snapped down and the vegetable knife he was holding stuck hard into the chopping board. A second later the water in the saucepan began to boil angrily, bubbling over the pot before it burst, pot calling to the floor with a clunk as hot water sprayed the ceiling. James shrieked, leaping backwards and slipping on the water. Kendall sat stunned in his chair and stared at the saucepan on the floor. His clothes were splashed slightly with the water, but he hadn't even flinched at the boiling water touching him. It was extraordinary. It was baffling.
He thought about it for the rest of the class, and for the rest of the school day.
He didn't see Kendall again until after school, when he was walking out and spotted a commotion in the courtyard; a crowd of students surrounding something smoking. He jogged over, gasping when he saw one of the student's cars up in flames, black smoke billowing from the windows. People were talking frantically, the owner of the car was yelling about how his parents were going to kill him, and he could hear distant sirens.
Then James saw Kendall standing off to the side, hands hanging limply by his sides. His open bag and books lay in a mess by his feet but he just stood there and stared blankly at the car, eyes blown wide. James hurried over to him. "Kendall?" When he didn't respond, James touched his shoulder. Kendall jumped as though he'd been electrocuted, turning to look at James with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing as it often did now in moments like this. "Kendall, what's wrong?" he asked. He resisted the urge to add this time.
"I-I . . ." Kendall bit his lip hard, lifting a shaky hand to bite his fingernails as he looked back at the car. The light of the flames reflected in his eyes. "I did it," he whispered at last.
"I don't understand," James frowned. "Did what?"
"That, that," Kendall hissed, pointing to the car. "I did it. James, I did that." He grasped for James' sleeve tightly. "It was me."
"How do you know?" James asked, handing coming to cover his and hold him still, their eyes locked. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," Kendall told him quietly, eyes suddenly much more focused. "I don't know how I know, but I do. You have to believe me."
"I do, I do." Hands still linked, James knelt and pulled Kendall to his knees with him. Together they gathered up Kendall's things and zipped them into his bag. James picked it up for him and handed it over as they got back to their feet. "Don't tell anyone," James said quietly. "Go home, okay?"
"Okay, okay . . . I'll go home. I'll go home . . ."
"Stay safe."
"Stay s-safe . . ."
"Hey, I'll walk with you, okay?" Putting his arm around Kendall's shoulders, the two crossed the school parking lot and moved onto the street, passing an approaching fire truck and leaving the chaos of the fire behind. They walked in silence; James moved his hand from around Kendall's shoulders once they were away from the school, but Kendall walked so close to him that their hands kept brushing together. James held it together and stopped himself from trying to hold it. That wasn't appropriate.
As they passed the arcade centre, James saw that the crime scene tape and the police were gone. But Camille was standing there, staring up at the roof of the building. James watched her for a second, slowing to a stop. Kendall stopped too. "What's she doing?"
"I don't know . . ." James frowned. "Looking at something."
"The crows," Kendall said softly, pointing. Then James noticed; the entire roof was littered with perched crows, at least thirty of them if not more. "You can go talk to her," Kendall added, stepping back. "I can walk home myself."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure." Kendall nodded firmly, adding a small smile and a, "Stay safe."
James chuckled. "Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, Kendall." He turned and walked back to Camille. "Camille, hey . . ."
She turned and smiled at him. "James, hey. I was just thinking."
"Thinking about what?" James looked up. "The birds?"
"Sort of. We know that Jenny wasn't killed by you. I know what killed her. Not who, but it's a start."
"What?"
"A druid," she said, pointing to the birds. "These show that. Crows have never gathered here before; nature tends to go a little wild around druid spells, crows in particular gather around places of druid activity. So that's what we know now. It had to be a druid."
"And why do you think a druid would kill her?" James asked, turning to look at her."Do you think it has something to do with those runes on Kendall's door?"
"I feel like it can't all be a coincidence." She sighed. "I just don't understand any of it, how any of it's linked. It must be somehow, but I just . . . I just don't know."
"Mhm . . . speaking of Kendall, I—" It was then that James spotted her on the other side of the parking lot, eyes on the roof; his mother. Her eyes were narrowed, brow furrowed, and he knew that look better than anything; it was Brooke thinking, calculating. Did she know what Camille knew? Biting his lip he turned his head back to face Camille, eyes still on his mother. "I wanted to ask you about what happened today in home ec, and after school." He explained to her the story of the water in home ec class, followed by the incident with the burning car and Kendall claiming he was responsible. As he watched his mother, he saw her take out her phone and walk away, pressing it to her ear. He had no time to worry now about what she was doing.
"Hmm . . . fire was a part of that rune combination, so that would make sense as a part of his new abilities, I guess," Camille said thoughtfully. "It's interesting how he was more aware of this than the other things." Then her eyes lit up suddenly and she gasped. "Hold on. I've just thought of somewhere we could find more information about druids. Well, you could, specifically."
"Me? Why?"
"See, it's tradition in each hunting family to keep a sort of book, a directory of information on what you hunt," Camille explained. "Kelly told me once, and jokingly called it a beastiary. They're generations old; people add in more information on werewolves, druids, the like. Your family would definitely have one, and I bet your mom would have a copy. There could be something there to help us; detailed accounts of old druid spells. You should take a look at it. Now, finding it would be the most difficult part . . ."
"My mom's got a study."
"Off limits to you and your brother?"
"Of course, but there's nothing in there we'd want in there anyway."
"Perfect! Go." Camille pushed him away from her. "Go home and find that beastiary. Let us know what you find out, okay?"
"I will, see you later Camille!" He hurried away from the arcade centre; he could only hope that he got home before his mother did. Fortunately, when he arrived home and called out for her there was no answer. So he sped down the hallway and opened her study door. Any other time he would've hesitated to open the door for fear of facing her wrath. Now he just needed to find that beastiary. He went straight for her desk drawers even though he knew, logically, it wouldn't be kept somewhere so obvious. He looked around the office, trying to think of a possible place where she would hide it, at the tall bookshelves and stacks of magazines. He went to her desk, eyeing the rows of four drawers on either side. He opened each of the drawers on the left and shuffled through them; nothing. He sighed, moving over to the drawers on the right. The first one had nothing worth examining; just a lot of stationary. Then he tried to tug open the second drawer, but found he couldn't. He frowned and moved on to the third and fourth drawers, but couldn't open either of them either. He wondered if they were locked, but through that theory out the window when he saw there was no kind of keyhole anywhere. He knelt down in front of the drawers, examining them more closely. As he did he saw that although the wood between the drawers was grooved in, that was all it was. Long grooves, no opening. He looked further down and felt under the desk, trying to tug the bottom drawer open again, when he felt something; some kind of latch. He pulled it and it clicked, handle in his hand as he moved back. The three drawers, as a panel, folded up by the handle, revealing an opening with a large filing box. He slid it out with his free hand and opened it up, finding a large pile of files. He saw Werewolf. He saw Methods of Channelling Spirits. This had to be it.
He read over the word Druid and grinned. Jackpot. He opened up the file; the first few pages seemed to just be translations of the different rune alphabets; he skipped those pages and moved onto the portion on different sacrifices and spells. Flipping through the pages, he knew he wouldn't have time to read it all now. So he took out his phone and took photos of each page, quickly shoving his phone into his pocket when he finished. He flicked back through the file, spotting a title that, as it did when he passed it with his phone, immediately captured his interest. The title read The Takeover – not an official name of course, we don't know of one. But it's quite accurate, as it tends to be what a druid does once they succeed.
He read on.
. . . . an age old method of absolute power. One must require a sacrifice in threes; first, three virgins. Three warriors. Three guardians. And finally another human will be sacrificed upon the nemeton under the moon, the power will be unleashed and—
Then he heard the front door slamming shut and freaked out, closing the file and shoving it back into the box. He put it back in the desk, ran from the study and shut the door just as his mother appeared in the hall, frowning when she saw him standing right by her study door. "What are you up to, honey?"
"Oh, I uh . . . I was just chilling. Haha. I've got homework so I'll go upstairs, byee~" And he hurried upstairs, into his room and shutting his door with a sigh. Close call, for sure. He took out his phone and called Camille, telling her what he'd read.
"What really stuck out to me was the method of performing sacrifices in threes," he said after Camille paused on the other end. "I remembered the way you and the others described the nine murders. I don't know if it was even conscious, but you grouped them into threes. And it got me thinking . . ."
"You think they were sacrifices like the ones in the beastiary? Virgins, warriors and guardians?"
"It could make sense, right? I mean, I don't know about the first three, but the veteran and the doctor and the police officers. It could make sense. We don't know all their stories . . . but veteran, warrior. Doctor, guardian. Make sense?"
"It does make sense. Actually, now that I think about it that girl from our school, Sandy— she was a virgin. Or at least claimed to be, she wore a purity ring. This is so weird; Kelly never mentioned anything like this to me. Honestly, this kind of stuff is so out of fashion nowadays . . ."
"Well, I guess this druid likes things old-fashioned. Maybe that's why; nobody really understands it anymore." He paused. "What is a nemeton?"
"It's a sacred tree. Well, more of a stump, really . . . druids use it as a platform for their power, usually dark druids as far as I know. The power channelled from sacrifices and things, if they have their own nemeton, would go straight to it. That kind of power inside a body can torment it so I guess it's a way of keeping it, but keeping yourself safe and sane." She stopped for a moment. "I'm going to call the others and have them come over. Can you read the rest of what you took and meet us in half an hour?"
"Sure, sure. I'll see you soon." He hung up and went back to his photos, opening up the first page he'd photographed. He read on about the history of druids, for about a minute. Then he skipped those pages and moved back to the sacrifices. None of really made sense to him; it was all technical information, nothing that seemed to apply to what was happening in Sherwood. And so he returned to the pages on the Takeover.
. . . the power will be unleashed and channelled into the druid. This is the utmost power, one that cannot compare to any other. Such druids are only stoppable by very specific and very difficult methods. The success is much more likely of stopping the druid before the Takeover can be complete, usually by destroying the nemeton or the druid themselves.
Then he moved on to a subheading; The Messenger Method. He read on.
Nemetons are not invincible, and it is possible for them to be destroyed by the elements. Should such a thing happen, the druid may capture the power and place it within a messenger, a human vessel until another nemeton has been created and the new moon arrives. The messenger must be a single child, though by sacrifice and not by birth. Messengers have been known to display specific powers, some beyond our understanding. Many druids voluntarily use this method as it can be safer than storing their power in an immobile tree, but the vast majority use it only as an alternative method when left without a nemeton.
He stopped reading, putting his phone down and frowning.
"That kind of power inside a body can torment it."
Fuck. James sat up straighter, suddenly feeling a shiver pass through his body. It made sense. A messenger, the nemeton, and Katie . . . it all made sense now, at least to him.
"Their temple, my tomb . . ."
He leaped from his bed and pocketed his phone, not bothering to take anything else with him as he sprinted down the stairs and put of the house. He ran all the way to Camille's and was slightly winded by the time he arrived, but he had time to catch his breath while he waited for her to answer the door. Once she did he burst in, hurrying into the living room where everyone sat, now looking up and staring at him in silence as he took another second to slow his breathing. Though he felt anything but calm on the inside.
"I know that's going on," he said at last, standing in the centre of the room. "There is a messenger. It's Kendall."
There was a stunned silence for a second or two. Then at last Camille said, "Explain." But there was a trace of a smile on her face and for a moment, he felt quite proud of himself. But now wasn't the time for that.
"You've explained to everyone the sacrifices in threes?" When she nodded, he nodded too. "Okay . . . so, I could be wrong about this, but I feel like it all fits together too well. There were nine sacrifices, the sacrifices in threes, but then it stopped after that storm and forest fire. I think that the fire destroyed the druid's nemeton; the sacrifices were finished anyway but if whoever this person was actually managed to become all powerful, surely someone would know. But if the storm did destroy the nemeton then the druid would have to make a new one, as well as wait for the new moon. So they used a messenger to hold their power. The messenger has to be an only child, but it has to be done through sacrifice. Katie had her throat cut, like the others. And the powers are specific . . ."
"So why the runes on Kendall's door?" Jett asked. "Is that a part of creating the messenger?"
"It didn't say it was, but . . ."
"I have a theory." Kelly sat up, pursing her lips before saying, "If the sacrifice wasn't enough to make Kendall into a messenger, the runes could complete the process. Katie was only Kendall's half-sister, they had different mothers."
"So maybe that's why the druid needed the runes," James finished for her. "They must have channelled the power into him when killing Katie wasn't enough. It makes sense, right? He's been acting so wacky and developed these abilities out of nowhere, it must be because of this power. It's making him loopy. He mumbled that the runes were what he is, and he kept repeating 'Their temple, my tomb'."
"The nemeton," Carlos murmured to himself, frowning and biting his lip. "Shit . . ."
"What should we do?" Lucy asked.
"I don't know," James sighed, scratching the back of his head. "I don't think there's a lot we can do besides figure out who the druid is and stop them. And maybe find the new nemeton? But it could be anywhere . . . there are a lot of trees around."
"You know what we should do first? We should confirm that the old nemeton is destroyed." Gustavo stood up. "Only a small portion of the woods was burnt, we just need to explore that part, and see if we can find it. Kelly and Camille will know what signs to look for, and with all of us searching we should be able to find it if it's there. Let's get going."
They all got up and left the house, and Gustavo led them down the path and up one of the quieter roads towards the woods. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, and he walked until they came across the remains of a charred shrub, and several blackened trees. "This is the area," he said. "Ladies?"
"I know everything here is burned," Kelly said, looking around. "But the nemeton will be a tree stump blackened, and the ground around it will be burned black too, unusually so. And keep an eye out for animals, particularly crows. Though they may be gone by now, some might still gather. Call out if you find something."
They all split up and headed different directions, feet crackling on the leaves and twigs. James looked around the forest; it was all quite silent, unusually so. It was strange, knowing all the life hiding away in the trees, somewhere beyond what he could see. Also beyond what he could see was the nemeton; the only tree stump he found seemed far too small to be anything special, and wasn't charred any worse than the other trees around it. He sighed and looked around, wondering which way he should walk next. Left or right?
"Hey guys, I think I found it!"
James turned to where Carlos' voice had come from and jogged towards it, seeing Lucy appear some distance away from him. They all arrived into the clearing where Carlos stood and each of them knew instinctively that this had to be the place. The ground around the wide tree stump was burned black, the stump itself black too but not damaged like the trees around it. "Spooky," Jett mumbled, looking down at it. "So this is where the power was? You can kind of feel it in the air . . . I know that doesn't really make sense because it's all gone now into Kendall but I just . . . I feel it."
"I know what you mean," Lucy said quietly, holding his hand. "I feel it too."
"So I guess you were right," Gustavo said, turning to James and nodding. "Well done. But we still need to find the new nemeton, or its owner. My money's on the druid, personally. This isn't a small place."
"I agree, we're a lot closer to finding the druid than the nemeton," Kelly nodded. Then she sighed. "Not that we're very close to finding the druid . . . we'll just have to keep trying."
"What I still don't understand is how the kanima fits into all this," Lucy said. "We all know a sacrificial killing is a cut to the throat and a spoken rune. Obviously a kanima can't do that, so why has that been happening? Are they connected or not?"
They all fell into silence as they thought it through. James had no idea why this was happening. The werewolf who had bitten him had been found with his throat cut, the standard killing method of a druid, so they had to be connected. But why? It didn't make sense to add unnecessary kills to the table that wouldn't really benefit them at all.
"I have a theory," Jett said suddenly. "But I'm not sure if I'm right . . ."
"Well, let's hear it!" Carlos said, smiling encouragingly. Always so chirpy, he was.
"Well . . . what I'm thinking is that in this town, there's the druid. Then there's us, who obviously wouldn't be happy with what they're doing. Then there's the Diamonds, a hunter family. Also wouldn't be happy with it. So maybe . . . what if the kanima is a distraction?"
"A distraction." Gustavo's eyes lit up.
"I mean, people are going to pay more attention to a monster slashing people up than to one wacky high school kid," Jett continued. "And maybe that's why James was chosen to be bitten, maybe because he's a Diamond. It adds more fuel to the fire."
"But they slipped up on Jenny's murder," Camille added, somewhat of a grin on her face. "They couldn't get James under their control so they killed her themselves. Then the crows gathered and we figured out it was a druid."
"My mom was watching the crows earlier today too," James said to them, arms folded. "I think she might suspect something now too . . . she looked pretty grim."
"That's what they wanted, I guess," Gustavo sighed. "Only she'd be a fool if she didn't take note of those crows, which means they've got more to worry about than they think."
"Maybe once the pressure builds, they'll be exposed," Carlos said with a determined smile. "We have to keep going."
"I had the craziest dream last night," Logan said quietly to Carlos, seated across from him in the cafeteria. James was sitting beside Carlos; both of them leaned forward with their arms folded on the table. Admittedly, it was good to feel a little important. "I was running through the woods, like crazy, and I don't know where I was going. I don't think I was running to or from anything; I was just running. But then I came to this clearing surrounding by these really tall, kind of scary trees. And in the middle was this weird, gigantic tree stump. And there was the shadow of a person standing on it . . ."
"That's really weird . . . hey, Logan. This is a weird question, but can you draw it?" James opened his notepad and handed it to Logan along with a pen. "I can't picture it in my head."
"Sure, sure, I can do that . . ." Logan quickly mapped out the area of the clearing, before moving on to work on sketching the tree stump. Suddenly a shadow fell over the table and Logan looked up to see Kendall standing there, hands leaning on the table.
"What's going on here?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow with that usual obnoxious grin on his pretty face. "Drawing pretty pictures? Let me see."
"Back off, Knight," Logan hissed, shielding the drawing with his arms. "It's none of your business."
"I said." Kendall slammed his and down on the table. "Let me see," he growled, gritting his teeth.
"Go back to your boy toy and leave me alone, got it?" Logan snapped.
Then Kendall let out a roar and shoved Logan hard. He flew from his chair and landed flat on his back on the floor. He scrambled backwards and screamed as a burning hot hand coiled around his ankle and pulled him back. Kendall crawled over him, eyes ablaze, literally; all of him was. He let out a terrible shriek and groaned, "Their temple, my—" His hand snapped out around Logan's neck. "Tomb."
Logan sat up suddenly, safe in his bed at home. He was soaked in sweat and couldn't breathe evenly. It was just a nightmare, just a bad dream. He lay back down in bed and let out a shaky sigh, staring at the ceiling. He did have a dream about running in the woods. When he woke up he got ready for school and sat through his classes before meeting Carlos and James— although now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember what happened in any of them. So that was all a dream too.
He rolled over onto his side and knew that he may have wanted to get back to sleep, but after that dream, he wouldn't.
