Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Humans and Monsters ❯ Werewolf Scouts ( Chapter 7 )

[ 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 7

Elinore sighed, holding the one thing that she was hesitating to open. The urn felt light in her hands. Decorated with her father's family tree, it was hand painted. “Open it,” Landon ordered.

Elinore and Deven both shout him a glare. Slowly she slid her hand to the top and twisted to porcelain top off. “T-Oh, I- I'm going to be sick,” she got out, stumbling to put the urn down, finally pushing it into Deven's chest before tripping out of the unit.

“Wh-What's in there?” Landon asked.

Deven put the urn down and looked into it. Gagging, “I-Its not him,” he got out.

Landon looked into it, his eyes widening at the small animal skeletal remains in the urn. “Looks like a cat…” he gathered.

Landon nodded before the smell of sweat, no, to light, filled his nose. He pushed Deven softly out of the way and looked out of the unit. Elinore was in her car, wiping her eyes.

He slid to her side, opening the door, it was locked, but his strength had it off its hinges in a second. Kneeling down he snatched her wrists in on of his hands, “D-Don't rub your eyes,” he grumbled.

Sliding his thumbs underneath to wipe up the tears he questioned himself. Why would he care if she was crying? “He-he's going to come for me then? For my mom?” She got out.

True fear was lying in her eyes. “M-I have to get to my mom,” she whispered.

“Out of the car,” he warned, reaching over her to undo the seat belt she had just strapped to herself. “Get out, you can't drive like this,” he ordered. Helping hers out of the car he leaned her against it, his hands on her shoulders. “Lister, Deven will take care of your mother, we need you to answer some important questions.”

It was almost like she was in the vampire's trance to Landon. Her eyes seemed so oblivious to what he was saying. She couldn't comprehend that he was telling her to do something.

“Elinore,” he called to her, snapping her out of her shake. She closed and opened her eyes. “What do we do?” She asked seriously, causing him to sigh.

“I'm going to do some research with some friends I know, other wolves that can keep an eye out for him, do you know what he'd look like now?” He asked.

She tried to think, nodding she went back into the unit flipping through boxes until she found a tub aware. An airtight blue lid slid off and printed photos almost overflowed the top. Digging through it she tore on in half, handing one halve to Landon. “This is how he looked.”

Staring at the photo he remembered the facial structure. “Deven run this through the computer,” he said, handing the picture to the boss. “Take Elinore back to our apartment,” Deven returned getting back into his car.

Landon gave a nod, ushering Elinore into the passenger seat. Sliding into the driver's side he ordered, “Call the hospital, tell them that on no circumstances will she be allowed visitors.”

Elinore nodded, her phone to her ear instantly. He could hear the ringing on the other end and turned his concentration towards the street.

Deven grumbled as he stared through the screen of the computer, his head throbbing with annoyance. “He's got numerous identities, all with a stone cold time of death,” he got out, “the only thing I can guess at is that he's somewhere close to Fort Wayne, Indiana, which is an extremely populated city, making it hard to narrow down his tracks,” he explained as Landon hovered over his left shoulder.

Elinore was hovering over his right, “What if you go into his DMV? If he had any traffic tickets it'll say where.”

Deven shook his head, “I looked there as well, I couldn't find anything, clean slate.”

Landon sighed, pushing away from Deven's chair, “I'll be back in a little bit.”

“Where are you going?” Elinore asked.

He shot her a rather scary glare. His eyes transforming to that golden color, the look a primal warning, he was warning her. “To those friends I told you about, stay here,” he got out before he fled out the door.

Deven and Elinore both looked at each other mysteriously. Both of them sighed, “Dinner?”

Deven laughed softly. “What's on the menu?”

“Not anything spicy,” she declined as she sat down at the laptop.

“What kind of friends are they? Werewolf scouts…?” Elinore muttered suspiciously.

Deven raised his shoulders as he continued to look into folders and records. “Sort of, see, when you become a werewolf you must join a pack, any lone wolf will be killed off within the first month. Landon's pack is werewolf, but his pack isn't like most, instead it specializes in human protection,” he paused to shake his head at the last statement, “no they don't. Landon is the only one that doesn't follow with them. He's only in the pack so he won't get killed. They don't mind what he does as long as Landon holds a promise to never hunt the pack or any ally packs.”

“And in return do they stop killing people?” Elinore asked hopefully.

Deven shook his head, “No, but he couldn't have independence and human protection.”

Elinore gave an absent-minded nod.

In order to remain safe he had to throw aside his worry for other humans related to the pack. It was a hard thing to comprehend, but not hard to understand.

“So… do they transform into those two legged beasts too?” She asked jokingly.

Deven shook his head not seeing the joke, “No, it's just a normal wolf form.”

“What about you?” Elinore asked suddenly, a spark igniting in her look that had Deven almost scared.

“Me?” He repeated.

“See, Landon said that you were supposed to kill him. Landen also seems to have many decades on his life with how he shows himself in modern society, so how do you not age with him?” She explained her guess.

“You are extremely observant,” he noted, before adding, “don't take that as a compliment.”

“I wouldn't,” she answered stoically.

Deven sighed, “I'm nothing stereotypical, no mischievous creature.”

“Oh, you make it sound even more interesting,” she cooed making her way into the kitchen to find herself a drink.

“I'm a descendent of hunters, granted immortality as long as we are doing our work,” he answered after she had poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Granted?” She repeated, blowing into the cup and inhaling the steam that came off the top. Looking at Deven he saw him sitting at the table, looking through files.

“Yes,” he replied, and she could tell he wasn't opened to go deeper into the topic. “Okay,” she let go, sitting down next to him, and peaking over his shoulder.

He gave a sigh, one of those sighs that she knew meant to leave him alone. Taking the hint she grumbled under her breath, finishing the last of the cup and snagging her keys out of her purse.

“Where are you going?” He asked, finally peering out from behind the folders.

“I'm going home, Landon monster-proofed my apartment already and I can't take the silence, plus I have to finish un-tiling my kitchen,” she answered, heading for the door.

“Wait,” he ordered, nearly jumping out of his chair, “I'll walk you to the car.”

Landon pushed open the door. Stereotypically this would be the last thing someone would think they'd find a werewolf in. Those movies, where it all happened in a nightclub made him laugh under his breath. Loud music, so many smells, who came up with that insane thought?

The library was quiet as he walked through the aisles til he stood in front of a Staff Member Only door. Easily he pushed it open and found what he was looking for. A large conference table stood, three men sitting at it.

“Landon,” one greeted. His black long hair made him look like he was stuck in an 80's metal rock band.

His eyes were always gold, this man had no care for hiding those. In fact, those were what got him picked up by so many younger women that didn't know any better. “We got your call,” he said nodding to the other two men that sat at the table.

“Porter,” Landon greeted quickly, “there's going to be a wolf that trespasses, I need to put an alert out to him.”

He slid the folder that Deven had made up of their current situation, including Elinore's father's passed pictures, the scene from the first death and then the records from the second, then a picture of the not so empty urn.

“So this is helping your U.R. business?” Porter asked with a sneer. “Are you trying to get a human treaty going again?”

“No,” Landon answered almost instantly, shaking his head.

“Then why would you ask for our help, without asking for anything in return?” Porter asked before his eyes widened on the folder.

“Vanhok,” he said almost subconsciously, as if familiar with the name.

Another spoke up. This one looked almost new to the werewolf scene, he could barely control the flickers of his fangs.

“The runner of Parazine,” he answered, “she just filed a complaint for U.R. in her last issue.”

Porter looked up at Landon then, a glare painting his face. “You want us to help a woman that would easily put our existence in her next issue?”

“If she wanted to do that she would have already!” Landon shouted in her defense.

“She's not interested in unleashing any other creatures, her thing is ghosts, poltergeists, haunting, the after life, not us,” he explained.

“Then why'd she come to you for this?” The boy spoke, his name Landon didn't know.

“She didn't,” Landon answered, “we saved her from a building a few nights back, Deven looked into her past and found this, she's asked for us to find him, and get rid of him, for the sake of her mother.”

“He would go after her first,” Porter thought out loud. “Then he would go for his kin, Elinore.”

Landon nodded an affirmative, leaning forward on one of the chairs.

“Before I agree, I want to meet her,” Porter let out.

Landon's jaw tightened. “She's not your type,” he growled out warningly.

Porter had a strange way with women. He used his eyes to put them into a trance, make them feel like prey. Landon didn't like the idea of him going anywhere near Elinore, or Deven for that matter.

“Landon, you wouldn't be interested in this girl would you?” He asked.

“Of course not,” he quipped, “Interest or not, you're not to go near her.”

“Will you challenge me for that?” Porter asked, pushing up to stand out of the chair. Standing at his full six feet and eight inches, he towered Landon. His body wasn't lean at all, muscular in every way.

“No,” Landon muttered.

“Then I will meet her,” he returned, “and if you must, you will set it up, and supervise, I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

Landon only curled his upper lip. “You will alert this man?”

“Yes,” Porter answered, “an unstable werewolf will cause us trouble as well.”

Landon bowed hi head thankfully, turning to leave the room.

“Landon, have you been eating right?” Porter asked. Landon could hear the sarcasm in his voice.

“I don't get off on eating humans,” he growled over his shoulder, turning the knob.

“We'll see how hard it is to resist, now that you've found a person you're… not interested in,” Porter warned.

He wished he could've ignored the comment, opening the door and closing it behind him. Treading through the library with all his senses of full alert, he could tell it was filled with werewolves.

Some were coming to train after their change. Others were here simply cause of the peace it offered them.

His phone rang, and reading the text made him snarl a loud, startling the human librarian.

Elinore's gone home.

Landon rolled his eyes. Deven could never keep someone from doing what they wanted, it was in his guidelines. If someone had really wanted to jump off a rooftop all he would do was cheer them on.

Then to Elinore's house, he'd go.