Chapter 58

Sin

–James

I was aware of pain. I was aware of blood. I was aware of food and I was aware of my own frustration. I was even aware that I was doing something wrong, but it was so weak. Like you're vaguely aware that it's the law to have your seatbelt on and you don't really care.

What I wasn't aware of was Anna. I wasn't aware of her at all. I hardly even remembered who she was, let alone knew it was her that was underneath me. It was just prey. Just food.

Blood and flesh in my mouth, swallowing it down, this was what I had always done. I kill, eat, live. It was simple, the way I lived. Avoid pain when possible and continued to live. Instincts.

Something burned my lips and I pulled away with a yelp. Rubbing my muzzle with my paws, I tried to think what could have hurt me. It was dead. It shouldn't be able to hurt me anymore.

I saw a glint of metal, that metal that made me sick, that could hurt me. I couldn't see very well, but I could tell by the horrible smell that the little thing gave. It was so tiny that it was hard to notice. I growled at it, trying to think of way to get rid of it.

It was in a shape of a cross. A cross meant nothing to me. I didn't even know the word 'cross', but the shape was familiar nonetheless. I clawed at it and howled in pain. It burned my skin so much that it stuck to it before dropping to the stone floor with a musical clink.

A small silver cross to protect from loser werewolves.

BANG! A gun shot went off, whizzing past my face and I sprang up, scrambling back against to the wall. I looked over to where it came from. Eric was fumbling with the lock, having trouble for he was holding a gun. "Shit, I should have come earlier. I knew it was a full moon."

As I stared at him, I felt all the strength drain out of me, as if my heart and organs were just falling out of me and my muscles were breaking down. I realized it was because I was transforming, but once I was done I felt even emptier than before. Seeing Eric gave me the feeling of being brutally yelled at from my father. And just like that time, I wasn't completely aware of what I had done wrong. Just that I had and I was in trouble.

I looked down at my hands and saw them covered in blood. I tasted blood and when I brought my hands to my mouth, I found it all over my face, running down my neck and onto my chest. I felt both sick and shocked.

What the hell was I eating!?

Eric got the cage door open and ran inside, shoving me out of the way. The movement twisted me around a little and I saw a glimpse before Eric's back blocked my view.

Anna, covered in blood.

My hand went to Eric's shoulder to move him out of the way, but he slammed the gun against my head. "GET BACK!" I stared at him with wide eyes. He had the gun pointed at my face. "I swear to God, I'm very close to killing you right now," he said quietly. I tilted my head a little so I could see Anna.

Her throat was torn open; gaping open. She was covered in blood, wounds all over her body, but the most grotesque was that her small delicate stomach was ripped apart, a bloody mess that spread onto the floor. You couldn't tell the difference between what was blood, what was flesh or what was both, or her and the floor.

" . . . was found at seven o' clock last week with wounds upon her body that appeared to be made by a large animal . . ."

"W-what happened?" I choked. My voice seemed unnatural.

"You better run or I'm going to shoot you," Eric said ignoring my question. He had left the cage door open.

"Did I . . .?"

"The woman was covered in severe wounds all over her body. Large claw marks were found on her arms and legs. Her neck looked like it was ripped open from the teeth of a large animal and her stomach was as much of the same. Certain organs were missing altogether."

"Yes."

I let out a cry. It was more of a horrified scream than a sob, but it was about to turn into one real soon. The silver piercing lay bloody on the floor, and I let my hand rest on it, letting the pain sear through me as I let it sink until the skin burned around it, making it stick to my hand even after I lifted it.

Eric's arm was shaking with anger as he pointed the gun at me. At least I thought it was shaking. I was shaking too much myself to be able to register what I was seeing. I kept my eyes open, waiting to see the bullet fly out. I wanted him to shoot me. I deserved it. I probably deserved a harsher punishment than just being shot in the face, but it made sense that Eric would be the one that did it. He was the one who really should have had Anna, and I stole her from him.

With an anguished half-sob, he lowered his arm. "GET OUT OF HERE! I don't want to see you anymore." I stumbled to my feet and did as I was told. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay and make him angry until he really would shoot me, but the wolf in me was afraid of dying and wanted to run. I felt like I was being punched in from all angles as I fell through the open silver gate. I landed on my face, and somehow pushed myself up, blindly running forward. My vision was nonexistent now, for it was a cloudy mass of tears. I couldn't move very well, since my right leg wasn't working right, but the rest of my body wasn't doing much better anyway.

I somehow managed to get out of the room and out of the dark, my hands clawing at the walls to keep me going as I stumbled along. I was staining the brightly colored hallways with blood, until eventually I slid down a gold papered wall, my hand print smearing all the way down until I came to a stop at the floor. I sat there for awhile, awake but unaware of anything. The hand with the piercing burned into it lay open at my side and my eyes fell on it, staring at the flaming cross.

I don't know how long I sat there. I could hear the electricity running through the walls that powered the lights, but everything else was quiet. Far away, just barely, I felt the presence of life, probably the other vampires, but none of this held any interest for me. Eventually I heard footprints heading in my direction and the familiar scent of a vampire. I looked up, hoping it was Anna, even though all common sense told me otherwise. The footsteps were too heavy to be her, walking with what sounded like a cane as well, and it couldn't be her because I . . .

"You're still alive?" The raspy voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't remember where I had heard it before. The man was old, with beady eyes, a scar a cross one of them and what was left of his long white hair was combed back. He was well dressed and the way he leaned on his cane reminded me slightly of Phil, only in a meaner way. "How did you get out here?" he barked.

His words didn't make sense to me, and I was still trying to figure out who he was so all I did was stare up at him.

He looked over me with his good beady eye and gave me a cruel smile. "Covered in blood, eh? You killed that whore, then. I knew you would. I know your kind - I've been dealing with you monsters for far too long."

My eyes went wide when I realized he meant Anna, and the memory of that came flooding back to me, so that I could relive it in my head yet again

"You deserved it. Maybe you'll think next time you kill something then, hmm?" He stuck his face into mine to make sure I was listening. It occurred to me that this must be Damien when I saw the total hatred in his face. "Do you understand why your species must be punished?" He waved the tip of his walking stick in front of my face, and I noticed the tip was sharp and plated with silver. "This is why the rest of your species must be exterminated. Don't worry. I'm going to give you a chance to redeem yourself. You tell me were all the rest of your friends went, and I'll mercifully shove my walking stick down your throat and you'll finally be at peace."

Hatred is a funny thing. It can be from a simple thing as a guy cutting you off on the road, and you decide you hate him, without ever meeting him again or knowing who he was. It can fade over time, or it can grow. It can go on until you're dead and maybe even afterwards. It can ruin your life, but it can also give you the guts to do something. For better or for worse.

When I first met Damien, I really didn't care too much about him. When I heard he hated me, I didn't hate him back. I simply had no feeling toward him whatsoever.

But the more this man talked to me, the more angry I got. I didn't think I was capable of hating anyone now that I seem to hate myself more than anything, but this guy was really pissing me off. So what if his freaking son was dead?! That guy was a freak! I'd lost more than he had, and Anna was his fault as much as it was mine. I hoped he was happy for accomplishing what he wanted, because I was about to tear him limb from limb.

"Well? Where did they run off to?" I glared in answer. He must have spotted the silver piercing shining in the electric light, for he placed the tip of his walking stick on it, and pressed his weight upon it.

I screamed so loud that it echoed throughout the halls. It wasn't a human scream, but an animal one, and it was just as much angry as it was painful.

Damien raised an eyebrow as if I had just proved his point that I was a monster. I was a little worried that he would shove his stick into my gaping mouth like he said he would. I would be happy to let Eric kill me, but Damien wasn't going to have that honor.

Instead he gave me a swift kick in the face, and I fell to the ground. "Lay there for a moment so you can think about the right thing. I won't give you the privilege of dying until you tell me what I want. Realize there is nothing left for you."

I let him walk away, listening to the tap of his cane as he walked. He didn't really need it for there was no limp in his stride, but he must have found it satisfying to hear the click of silver on the floor. Once he was a good distance away, I pushed myself up from the floor. I swayed a little once standing, but a hand on the wall steadied me.

It was clear to me now what I would do next. I had shifted all my self hatred onto Damien. I wasn't sure how long it would last, since Anna's death was really my fault, but right now it was his. I took a deep breath and breathed in Damien's scent. It gave me a shudder and I started shaking again, but it wasn't the painful shaking I had just moments before. This was out of excitement.

I took a few awkward steps before I fell into the pattern of walking. My knee wouldn't bend so I had to swing my stiff leg around. The slight pain it gave from putting weight on it felt reassuring.

Damien's scent led me to a set of double doors. My hand was trembling as I reached out for the doorknob. Once it was in my hand, I ripped open the door, dislocating it from its hinge. I heard the little bits of wood land on the floor before I let go of the handle, the door landing loudly at my feet.

Damien was halfway across the room before he turned around at the noise. The room was big, and as I looked around it, I saw that it looked like an old-fashioned ballroom. It was a beautiful room, with the ceiling painted with little angels and the floor decorated with intricate gold designs. Too bad it was going to get redecorated real soon.

"Are your ready to tell me were your friends have gone?"

I ignored him as I marched right up to him until I was less than half a foot away. He wasn't very tall at all. My head hovered above his, and I had to look down at him.

"Well, come on now, I don't have all day."

He didn't have all day. He was right about that. The day was about to end for him soon. His immortal life was about to become mortal. I lifted my uninjured hand and rubbed my face hard, trying to put some life back into it.

Grabbing him around the neck with the same hand, I ran forward, sprinting across the room and pushing him in front of me. I met the wall and slammed him up against it, raising him off his feet. I glared at him as he gasped for air. My fingers tightened around his throat. I would have loved to watch him die then, see the light in his eyes fade away as the last choking sound escaped his lips, but I knew something as simple as this wouldn't kill a vampire. After uselessly clutching at my hand, he swung his silver tipped cane at me, hitting me in the ribs.

It was a weak blow, but I cried out and released him. The skin melted onto the metal, ripping off when the cane was brought away from me. Blood dripped down my stomach and leg, but it wasn't fatal. And it wouldn't stop me by a long shot.

Damien glared at me for a moment before he swung at me again with his cane. He was much faster than I expected, and I was barely able to duck away. He managed a few more swings before I grabbed onto the cane. He looked at me once, then gave me a cool grin. The wings exploding from his back startled me, for the sound of ripping fabric seemed too loud, and with a pull on his end he was able to regain his stick. He zipped up into the air, flaring the cane around, giving me tiny cuts across my back as I tried to duck away. I lifted my arm, grabbed the annoying cane, and tried to rip it out of his grip. I managed to wrench it out of his hand, and he went flying across the room to hit another wall. He was much easier than fighting Eric. I almost felt like I had an unfair advantage, but I didn't much care. Anger gave me new strength and I sprinted after him, thrusting the cane into his own chest and pinning him to the wall. Making a fist, the silver piercing melting more into my skin, I socked him in the face, blood flying up in the air. With each new punch, I punched harder, ruining his face and screaming my lungs out. Soon, everything else was a blurry mess, tears welling up in my eyes again.

I hated him. I hated this man. Why did he do this? Why would he lock Anna up with a monster and let it kill her? Anna had never hurt him. Anna wasn't the one that killed his son. Anna had never killed anyone. All the threats and bullets she threw around were harmless. She had done nothing. She was just an innocent girl trapped in a vampire body. She wasn't the monster. She shouldn't have died. I was the monster. I should have died!

"You killed her." It was a muttered sob. I couldn't manage anything louder.

Damien started laughing, a disgusting sound that escaped his mouth in bubbles of blood. "You killed her!"

The words were not heard, not processed in my brain, but felt. Everywhere was pain and I hated it.

I wrapped my bloody hand around his wrist and pulled, watching the pain in his face as he screamed. I heard the satisfying crack as his arm gave and I easily ripped the rest of it from his body, dropping the arm on the floor.

Once he was done screaming, he grinned at me, breathing heavily. "Come on now. You're going to have to transform to actually kill me for real." In answer I ripped off his other arm, moving as slowly as I could, keeping my eyes locked on his. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted to stop suffering.

I was thinking about going for his legs when the most startling thing started happening: cell by cell, his arms started to grow back.

I stared at them in pure shock, and I wasn't prepared for the kick in the chest. I fell back, losing my balance and sprawling on the floor. He pulled the cane free from his chest, and plunged into my own instead. I felt it break through the cartilage that protected my heart. Blood pooled from my mouth and nose. I couldn't breathe, and with each attempt I was attacked by a series of choking coughs.

I should have died rather instantly. If the heart is pierced, you're pretty much done for, but as I looked at Damien's sneering face, I could just barely see the glint of silver, covered in his blood, on the other side of the cane.

The bastard had impaled me with the knob part. No wonder it hurt so much. He sure had made a mess of things, but I was wondering how smart Damien actually was. I'm sure he could have killed me. I wasn't being smart either. There were so many opportunities that Damien could just end it, but he was acting so stupid.

My vision was darkening from the blood loss, and I struggled to keep consciousness. I saw one bloody hand reach up and clutch the cane, then the other. Slowly, I pulled myself to my feet. The cane was pushed farther into my body, and I knew I had to have it break through the other side if I wanted to get any closer to Damien. The ribs that may have blocked its passage were already broken, and I only had to move it a little to avoid hitting my spine. Just one more push to break the skin, forcing my one working leg to push me off the ground. The other one helped to keep me up. It took more effort than I had anticipated, but I soon felt it rip through the other side, my warm blood oozing comfortingly down my back.

I looked at Damien's face, or at least tried to. I kept blinking and my eyes wouldn't focus. We stood there for an endless moment before I was able to move. Damien did nothing to stop me as I shifted my weight, plunging the sharp silver point back to his chest, resting my body against his.

"I'm going to kill you," I murmured into his ear, my voice was low and a little deeper than usual. "If I can kill a sweet little girl, it'll be easy for me to kill you. Then you can go to hell and be a happy little family with that crazy bastard son of yours."

Damien started laughing and I grinned at him dryly. "You-you haven't even attempted to transform yet!" he said, laughing almost too hard to speak.

"Patience. . . Patience . . ." I wrapped a hand around his throat to stop his irritating laugh. "We'll take this slow and easy. I want to enjoy this."

My body was in so much pain, and I wasn't sure if I could even try to transform, let alone actually do it, but it was easier than I thought it would be. It was like standing all day, then finally letting yourself sit down. Let yourself fall. It hurt, of course, but I wasn't holding it in anymore. I was letting it out, and letting the wolf take care of it. I just had to feed it my hate. Maybe a little bit of pain, but give it mostly hate. Make him nice and strong.

I had nothing more to lose.