Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Humans and Monsters ❯ Proof ( Chapter 5 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

By: Smortz

The Pointless Disclaimer: This is my story and my take on the strange monsters our humanity has created. Reviews and messages are appreciated. If there are any typos or grammatical errors I am sorry. I re-read and edit all my chapters at least four times but it's hard to catch them.

Chapter 5

Elinore woke up slowly the following afternoon. Her neck throbbed in pain when she attempted to move it.

“Sleeping beauty's woken up,” she identified Deven's voice easily. Carefully, she sat up, trying not to move her neck at all.

“Morning,” she greeted, shivering as the blanket fell off her shoulder.

Deven nodded his head to her, his eyes not leaving the computer screen. “You're going home today, Landen will take you, and secure your apartment,” he informed her.

Elinore nodded easily before standing up, slowly wandering over to him. “H-He's not human, is he?”

“What makes you think that?” Deven asked suspiciously, finally moving his eyes to analyze her with that stare.

“The vampire, he slammed him against a car, dented it,” she explained, “no human could survive that, their spine would've broke, if they were lucky they'd at least have a broken bone.”

Deven sighed, shaking his head, “No, he's not human.”

She grinned victoriously before leaning over his shoulder, “What is he? He's not vampire.”

“No, I suppose he's not,” Deven said slowly.

“Come on,” she begged.

“Elinore, did you ever investigate your father's death more thoroughly?” He asked, changing the topic to a more suspicious one.

He watched her body tense, she stood up straight, one eyebrow rising, “There's no reason to, he died of a heart attack.”

“No, no, the first time he died,” he spoke carefully, pronouncing his words slowly and watching her face for any expressions. He had to hand it to her, she hid them well.

Elinore kept a straight face, “They were able to bring him back to life in the ambulance, but he was never the same he died of a heart attack two years later. That's all.”

“He beat your mother, didn't he? He had angry mood swings,” he pressed on further.

“Stop it,” she growled out, “it's in the past.”

Deven shook his head, “N-No it's not in the past, your mother hid from him, the asylum is only protection you see. Did you cremate his body, or did you bury it? Are you sure he's dead?”

“Of course he is!” She shouted, her control snapping, “The bastards rotting in hell!”

Deven's eyes narrowed, “Did you see the body in the casket? Do you have the ashes, do you have proof?”

“N-No,” she whispered.

“Deven.”

She'd never heard that tone before. Tightly controlled, with a rasp to it that almost made it sound animalistic, Landen forced out, “Leave it alone.”

“I will not leave it alone,” Deven argued.

“Elinore, attacks like that sound like werewolves, when they get close to being spotted they're able to fake death. Your dad could still be going after your mom, or coming for you. Did he ever get angry at you?”

She couldn't stand to listen to it. The mere memory of her father brought fear too close to the surface. The memories of the way he beat her mother until she was breathing through a straw in her throat. The memory of him looking to her for forgiveness, she lied every time, too scared to be the next victim.

She was another victim though.

“I'm going home,” she said tightly, her teeth clenched. “I'll return the jacket by mail,” she added.

Landen was holding the door open. His arm crossing the door way until she walked underneath it, she whispered a small `thanks'.

“Are we walking or taking a taxi?” He asked.

Elinore didn't feel like getting into a taxi, to angry to just sit down for the next forty minutes. “W-Walking,” she muttered shakily.

Landen gave a quiet nod, digging his hands into his sweater pocket.

“Deven means to do well,” he defended, even though he didn't agree. They had no concrete proof at all.

“That's my business,” Elinore snapped.

“Of course it is,” he agreed easily. “Werewolves though,” he forced out, “they're completely different.”

She didn't respond.

“They hold close feelings towards their families, their pack. They forget the understanding of human. Any sign of submissiveness, which isn't found a lot today, sets them off. They'll kill over the simplest things.”

“My dad wasn't a werewolf,” she whispered.

“If I give you proof he was, will you consider looking into making sure he's dead?” He asked. He added, “If he's not, he's still trying to get to your mother, and he's going to go for you when he's done.”

“She's in a safe environment,” she explained.

“Where was your home?”

“W-Wisconsin,” she answered.

“It'll take him a while to find you, how long has it been, five years maybe? It takes two years for one to recover after faking a death, one year to grow to his normal strength, another year to become pack with the fellow wolves wherever he is. Then he'll come to kill you, he'll want you to join, but he'll end up killing you.”

“How do you know so much about them?” She asked suddenly, stopping in her tracks.

“We investigate the paranormal remember?” He reminded instantly.

Elinore eyed him suspiciously. Although she turned her head and began to walk a little faster, Landen knew she was still trying to figure him out.

Sighing, she shook his head, “Even if you do find proof that he is a werewolf. What are you going to do? Hunt him?”

“Yes,” he answered easily.

“Well why do you need me then? Hmm?” She grumbled out.

“I-It is your father,” he stated, almost trying to get her to sound remorse.

“No, he stopped being my father the day he came home from the hospital,” she hissed out, her anger growing.

“What did he do?” Landen asked, unsure if he wanted to know or not.

He could remember his change, the way he had transformed. The anger at such little things, the devastation caused by women who weren't submissive, some were now in early graves. That was, until Deven arrived, at first Deven was to kill him but instead, he took pity.

He'd almost killed Deven, if Deven hadn't been able to seal him into rooms he probably would have succeeded. Deven had taught him how to be human again, and in return he had promised to do whatever Deven wished.

“He… He would beat my mom until she couldn't breathe through her nose, until she lost feeling in her fingers. He'd rape her, and he didn't care that she screamed. He didn't care,” she growled out.

“What happened when you tried to stop him?” Landen pressed on.

“What makes you think I tried to stop that monster?” Elinore asked.

Landen chuckled dryly, “You're not the kind of woman to just stand around. I've learned that easily.”

Elinore smiled wryly, “I-I only tried once.”

Landen swallowed hard, “What happened when you tried?”

“Why are you asking these questions?!” She shouted.

People on the sidewalk turned to them, before hurrying around. Landen could only gaze at her. A woman that he'd noticed to be curious, feisty, brave enough to fall asleep in a haunted house. Now though, she looked like a deer surrounded by a pack of wolves.

Her eyes were gleaming with tears of fear, of sorrow. The memories of her dad and mother bringing what she felt every night in bed, wandering if he'd want more after he was finished with her mom. Every night she felt as if she were awaiting her execution.

Landen couldn't speak, staring into her eyes, the fear of a victim of his kind. He could never get over it. The fact that she didn't even realize what her father was, it was like a stake through his heart. The fact that he and her father were the same, it tore him inside and out.

He knew what the father had done, for he had felt it too, done it too.

“This is your building,” he got out around his throat.

Elinore didn't say anything, didn't show anything. All she did was walk passed him, trying her damndest to walk around him without touching him, hard to do when he was holding the door open for him.

He began to follow her up, nodding his head to Aaron the doorman, almost chuckling at the teenager's clueless face.

“Eli,” he greeted, “new friend?”

“No,” she whispered, “just a visitor.”

Landen smiled at the kid, but didn't get a smile in return as they waited for the elevator.

“I-.”

“Don't say anything,” she ordered.

He didn't, closing his mouth. He didn't know what he could say. He had never been with a victim of his kind, always avoiding them.

The ring of the elevator lifted him from his mood as he stepped on and held it open for her. “Y-You're a werewolf too, aren't you?” She asked suddenly, barely a whisper.

“Yes,” he answered pitifully, not being able to feel good about her discovery.

She only nodded, “I-Find proof, and if-if he is. Kill him.”

Landen nodded almost instantly.

“Why,” she muttered, before looking up at him, “Why weren't you killed?”

He cleared his throat, “I should've been, I deserved to be killed. It was Deven's first mission, to kill me.”

“He didn't though, why?”

“He pitied the monster I was, but I pity him for not being able to fire the shot,” he answered as the doors opened and he walked her to her door in a silence.

It was already open, cracked, and he stepped in before her.

“So you're going to magically shield my home, is that right?” She asked.

Landed nodded, “Basically.”

Elinore sighed, going through her purse and finding her cell phone. He could hear her dialing for her voicemail, the automated voice telling her she had four unheard messages.

She didn't listen to them. Dialing a different number she brought it to her ear, “Hey,” she greeted.

The girl on the other end was yelling so loud he couldn't make out what she was saying. All he could make out was a muffled shout.

“Don't yell at me, I ran into some problems, I'll be at the office,” she sighed, obviously getting cut off, “My mom's doctor's called. I had to come in today.”

Landen smiled at her blatant lie as he continued sealing the windows.

“I-Yea, its okay, don't be sorry,” she grumbled, “yea, she's fine.”

“Shit,” she cursed, the same time the smell of blood hit him. He dropped her lamp, the light bulb shattering along with the stand.

His eyes that had once been chocolate, hazel mixed eyes disappeared. The golden-yellow hew causing them to dilate.

Several deep breaths and he could barely calm down. “Hey!” She shouted, hanging up the phone to stomp over to the nightstand across from him. “Why'd you break that?”

When his eyes met her, the fear he'd seen earlier was nothing compared to this one. “O-Oh my god,” she whispered, stepping backwards to hit the couch arm and falling back.

He stayed where he is. “I-I'm not your father, I won't hurt you,” he got out trying to keep his voice from becoming an animal's growl.

Landen reached out slowly, trying not to spook her. Brushing his fingers against her hand, he lifted her arm. She didn't fight it, lying completely submissive. It made it easier to control his animal side.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a tissue, wrapping it around the cut on her arm. She had cut it on the side of her counter. “You should get that counter finished,” he lectured, staring at the counter that was being remodeled. The corner hadn't been tiled yet, only the top of the plaster poking out.

“Y-Your eyes,” she got out.

“Ignore them,” he warned.

“No-They're beautiful,” she muttered.

Landen froze, the compliment almost causing his heart to stop. Eyes of a monster, and she'd been in awe over them.

It almost felt surreal, a compliment like that.

The feel of fingertips snapped him from his phase. Subconsciously he leaned against her hand like a dog would, begging for its owner to give it more attention. Nuzzling the palm of her hand until she rubbed her thumb against his cheek, her chuckle was rewarding.

“Y-You're not bad at all,” she mumbled before pulling her hand back to cover a yawn. Her jaw stretching open as her nose scrunched up, almost cutely.

“Your house is safe,” he said, his eyes beginning to go back to normal now that the scent of blood was dissipating. “Yea?” She wondered.

He gave nod, standing up and adjusting his coat. “I'll look into your old man and get back to you,” he informed her, heading for the door.

Landen had to get out of there, not knowing how to handle anything like Elinore. The compliment still sticking with him, the way her blood had managed to change him so swiftly. The need to fix it was almost primal.