Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Summer's Journal: Thirty-Sixth Entry

It was ten hours before I realized what had happened. When I did, I broke out crying, my mother and father were sitting there as I read. The book dropped form my hand, and my eyes filled with tears and I curled into a ball.

My father began to search around the area for whatever it was that had done it to me, and my mother rushed to me immediately. She held me tightly to her, but I didn’t register her touch. The only reason I am thinking so clearly now, is because my mind has shifted to revenge.

Revenge will cover up any emotions we have, and it will give us new purpose.

I feel totally violated. It wasn’t a normal human kind of violation, and I think that scared me even more. Someone got into my head, and read my thoughts. I didn’t realize that they were when they were doing it.

I didn’t have any defense, I didn’t have any time to react, and I had no idea who it was. But someone was able to get past my defenses. My defenses. I don’t even know how they did it.

The only reason I could tell it happened was because I felt them straining through my mind, ten hours later. I tried to explain it to my mother through my tears, and my rocking back and fourth. But she couldn’t understand. My father, after he made his rounds, didn’t understand either.

My mom never had to worry about it, her thoughts were primal. That was her benefit for being a werewolf. Her primal thoughts were surfaced about her others. My father’s mind is dead, he doesn’t have to worry about it.

I need Aurora. I need my godmother. She’s the only one who can understand. She’s the only one who can help me. I’m crying again… He, I use the word he because the male sex would be the only one to violate a girl’s mind for her thoughts, knows about my boyfriend. He knows about my cousin. He knows about what I do to help people. He knows that this makeup mask I wear is a façade.

He knows my age, my birthdate, my deepest darkest secrets, but yet he didn’t pry into my family, to find out about them, or where I live. He knows what I can do magically, and probably even more than I know. There are things I wish I knew about my magic.

My parents tried to make me feel better, bless them, but they couldn’t associate my problem with their own life. I hugged them, and I clung to them. I’m better now. But I may hurt or kill someone tomorrow.

I’m not sure I can go through with it.


Sunday, January 28, 2007

Aurora's Journal: Eighth Entry

I skipped past Janus’ house. The Illuminati hadn’t been hounding me like normal. I didn’t stop and say hello to them either. I felt bad about it. But I wasn’t ready to go back yet.

In my path of travel I came across a construction site. I felt the pain of the earth as they had dug into her. The scratches, the cuts. They seeped the clear blood of the earth.

Their explosions left her burnt. Hurting.

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Can you not see her pain? Do you not see her hurting? The first thing I had to do was get into the site. I needed to have access to the explosives. When I walked up to the site the men pushed me back

“We don’t need your kind here,” they said, “We don’t want no tree-hugging Indian up here.”

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I backed down. Not because I couldn’t take them, but because I didn’t want to hurt them. When one of them headed for a bathroom, I hit him, placed my hands on his cheek and I absorbed his DNA into mine.

I shifted my body to his, and then I burped and scratched my stomach. It was only natural. The tiger sighed and dragged away the body.

Once I had infiltrated the construction site, I went to get the dynamite they used to destroy my sweet earth. I went and found their machines of destruction. I attached the dynamite to them.

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The men didn’t seem to notice, and I was being sneaky about it. I lit a small stick of dynamite and I threw it.

It exploded in the water, and sent the water flying and made a horrifying boom. Everyone scrambled out of their machines of destruction. Ran for the lake, I pulled my skin down, and I lifted up. Once I was myself, I threw fiery tomahawks at the bombs

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I stood on the hill, and I looked down at them. They looked at me, after the explosions cleared, and I turned and I left.

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Thursday, January 25, 2007

Summer's Journal: Thirty-Fifth Entry

I’ve been stalling. I’ve been thinking and I have been stalling. It was the fact that the illuminati had jostled me so badly so soon after when I was nearly killed by the werewolf.

I’ve finally figured out what it was. It was a scum illuminati prank. All reason and logic dictates that.

Brendan and I were walking home from school together. He kept turning his head and looking over his shoulder. I knew something was there, but I had no idea what it could be. I didn’t have the senses of a wolf.

Whatever it was it kept giving me a an itchy feeling.

“Summer,” Brendan said, “Calmly, we are going to the church, the catholic on fifth.”

I obeyed instantly. He led the way, and I followed keeping pace with him. He didn’t break into a dead run, I’d be the one left behind. We both knew that. And if we were together then together we could perhaps survive…

It was a dread moment, whenever I thought about surviving instead of defeating whoever or whatever it was. My life didn’t flash before my eyes, but my true perception of reality fractured.

Brendan told me afterwards I froze, like a deer caught in a headlights, and when he tugged on me, he said I followed but it wasn’t me. The last thing I remember, besides that dread feeling, was sitting in the church. Brendan had me kneel at the alter, and for the first time in my life I couldn’t cast my eyes up to the crucifix.

I felt the image of our lord and savior Jesus looking at me. It wasn’t a personification of an object it was what I felt. I felt him looking down at me, and I couldn’t look up.

“Summer,” Brendan spoke firmly, “Say your repentances.”

When I spoke, I lacked the want for him to forgive me. I don’t know what it was. I felt weak in the church. Almost as if the very place was resisting my presence. Brendan looked at me.

“Dawn,” he said.

I looked at him. His arm was pointed to the door and I remember following it all the way. There was an old man. He wore the amulet of the illuminati but it had been tarnished and partially melted. It was a disgraceful leave from the illuminati.

The old man walked forward. He was shaking as if he was approaching a movie star which he loved desperately. He sat down before us on his knees.

“Au Courants,” He said as he looked at us, “I have looked for very long for the both of you.” Brendan spoke up after the old man said that, “What did you just say? Summer what did he just say?”

“He called us The Current,” I spoke pulling that knowledge from the back of my head, “Why are you looking for us?” I was terrified, but I had my makeup on, and I felt strong with Brendan with me. But I was a quivering, scared little white faced china doll underneath it all.

The old man spoke, “You are the Au Courants. You are born to save.” I knew that with my father and Brendan’s father both saving people as long as they had strength in their body, Brendan and I inherited that.

“We know,” we replied together. His response came as a shock, “To what extent do you think you will save?” I shrugged and Brendan was getting frusterated, “Look,” he said, “Who are you?”

“I am Friar Thomas, shamed Illuminati. They called me the prophet.” I raised my eyebrow, “Impossible.” Brendan watched me. He looked right through me, like he always could. He took my hand in his. This made me feel stronger.

“You will both go through many hardships, Au Courants. Pain and misery, the likes of which you will only bring on yourself. But in the end, I promise you, Au Courants, if you try for it, you will be happy.”

I was unbelieving, he was ex-illuminati. There were very few creatures that could see the future, and one was the seventh son, of the seventh son, this man couldn’t have been, not in today’s day and age. Demons were one of them. Demonic possession was one thing that could kick the illuminati out of the order.

I cast my eyes up to him, and he flinched, “Au Courant,” he said to me directly, “You have nothing to fear from me. Trust in me.” He reached out, and Brendan pushed his hands away.

“Don’t touch her,” My cousin defended me. The old man spoke again “I dreamt of you both all my life. And I finally found you…” The old said, “I needed to tell you. I had to see you.” The old man took a few steps back.

“Be wary, Au Courants… Both of you… Don’t give into your vices… Of all the advice I can give, I ask you please, don’t give in. Don’t give in.” The old man rose. The church seemed to reject his presence. Just like it was rejecting my own. If it rejected my presence and I was laced with evil, why did it reject his so violently? He had to be possessed. It was a all a lie.

It was either hell or the illuminati trying trick us. And Once the old man left, I buried my face in my cousin’s shoulder. I didn’t sob audibly, but I was crying. He rubbed my cheek gently, and he smiled at me.

“Baby-doll,” he said calling me what my mother called me, “I know you hate them. I know. But Summer, don’t let them get to you.” I nodded gently. He continued, “Summer Dawn, come on, lets go home.”

That happened a couple of days ago. I thought abut it. Whoever it was; was crazy. I know that for a fact. Or it was a demon’s deceit. The man had a melted and slashed Illuminati necklace. That means he was possessed.

Its hard to put it out of my mind no matter what, it keeps coming up in my head. It’s the demon’s deception. I’m done for now, time to lay down.


Tuesday, January 23, 2007


Excerpts from Jesse’s written Journal:

Day: night

Week: lost track


I figured it out. I know what to do to break her.


Friday, January 19, 2007


Ok, so it’s been a while since I last blogged. I’m not really into this whole blogging thing. It’s usually just a place for me to dump all my thoughts…but I have Summer for that…or at least I had her.

So earlier today, I was getting yelled at by my family. We aren’t the nicest of people together. I live with my ‘father’ and his brother. His brother is pretty nice. He only gets mean when I really deserve it. It’s Joseph that’s a dick. He is constantly yelling and being so insane!

Anyway, it started out, that we were all just fighting. I can deal with that normally. But Summer called. Honestly when I picked up the phone I didn’t know who it was. I just kinda…well, I freaked. I yelled into the phone for her to stop calling on that number. I figured she’d, once I realized it was her, would call my cell later, figuring I just thought it was a wrong person. My ‘father’ started in again. Yelling about how I would never get to college and I was glad I had my life chosen. I felt my phone vibrate and cursed under my breath. I yelled back at him, switching the phone to voicemail. I’d call her back when it was all over, I figured.

We yelled for what seemed like hours. I wanted to hit something. To make something burst into flames. I didn’t. They yelled at me and I stomped off. I wouldn’t risk getting grounded by leaving. I shut and locked my door. When it seemed like it settled down I actually got to sit and think. The first thing that came to mind was Summer. I feel so horrible.

I’ve never yelled at her like that. She most definitely hates me. I’m staring at my cell phone right now, debating whether or not to call her. I need to. She is the one I vent to. She is the one I talk to when my mind is all jumbled. If I don’t I’ll sit here for hours trying to sort through my thoughts and it won’t work. I’ll still be pissed and I’ll probably do something I really regret later if I don’t talk to her. I’m scared though. You know? The girl I care about thinks I hate her. (If she’s anything like I know she is…that’s what she thinks) I don’t want to hear that in her voice. *Sigh* Well, I guess I should call her.




So we talked. I cried, she cried. It was a relieving conversation though. I feel better. I told her that my family is crap and that she can’t ever call my home again. My cell she can call at anytime and any place, but not my home. She understood. She is the sweetest. She’d hate to know I said that…but it’s true. We hung up after a few minutes cuz my family was bellowing again. I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t want to fight with them again. It’s so draining. Anyway…they’re starting again. Peace.



Monday, January 15, 2007

Summer's Journal: Thirty-Fourth Entry

I feel numb; cold. I don’t know how much longer I can hold the contents of my stomach down. I’m shaking… I don’t know how I am forming legible words except perhaps this is a output, and without it I will be holding all of these thoughts in.

Chris, He told me he wanted to break up with me. I called his house, he answered the phone, angry, and he said, “Stop calling here!” I tried his cell, wondering if he thought I was someone else, and he sent the call straight to voicemail.

I stumbled out of my room, and I went downstairs looking for my mother. She wasn’t in the library, and her room was also empty. My hands shook as I tried to use the only part of me that was steady to pull myself up the stairs.

Tears were leaking down my eyes. I wouldn’t be okay for awhile. What hadn’t I done? What had I done? It… It had to be when I kissed him and he was asleep… He had to find out about that… Or… Maybe I didn’t tell him how I learned I could use magic.

Whatever it was… It was all my fault. If he didn’t want me, then no-one would. Except some accursed werewolf… The vampiric side of this family seems to be attracted to werewolves.

Every day, for the rest of my life with my werewolf husband, we will fight for dominance in the relationship, and if I don’t give it to him, he’ll have to take it away from me. If a vampire is the one who catches my eye, and we wed… Everynight he’ll indulge himself in my blood, until I become cold and lost for emotion because he has it all.

I’ll be a shell, and my only choice would be to be submissive to him, in hopes he won’t take anymore of my blood. Maybe I should start indulging in my vampire side. Start feeding from people…

I don’t want them to hurt him… They swore if he hurt me they would hurt him. I don’t want them to hurt him… It was my fault… If they hurt anyone it should be me. It’s all my fault.

He’s calling… He wants to make it official… I can’t talk to him right now without my makeup on. I’m going to go smudge some makeup on very quickly and talk to him –

- I’m so stupid. He was crying when he answered the phone, he was apologizing to me. He didn’t even give me a chance to talk at first. He sounded like he was hiding too. He tried to explain through the apologies and tears.

“Chris, please calm down…” “I can’t,” he said, “I can’t imagine what you thought.” I spoke softly, “Horrible things, Chris… I thought you hated me.” He was trying not to cry anymore, “No” was all he could get out.

“Chris, please, don’t cry.” I searched my bed for a cloth and I wiped off my makeup. A tear dropped down my cheek, “Sweetie… Please…” Chris took a deep breath, “Summer, you don’t understand. Here at home. You can’t call my home phone again… I was angry at my family when I answered. So when I yelled I… I have no excuse. But, when I said that…” I spoke softly blinking tears from my eyes, “Chris… I understand… Please stop crying.” He sniffled and then took a deep breath, “I’m not crying.”

“I know…” I responded, “But if you are, sweetie, you can always cry with me.” He smiled I could tell in his voice, “I have to go, my family is getting impatient, they don’t know where I am.” I smiled because he was smiling, “Chris… I love you,” I said softly. He had said it before, and I felt odd being the one initiating it, “I love you too.”

He hung up the phone. I set my cell phone on me bed, and I’m writing the conclusion to what would have been a terribly atrocious entry for me. The Illuminati still make me very angry. And I’m still trying to figure out what happened to me involving them.

I guess its kind of confusing why I needed makeup to talk to him. But I am tired, and need to close this little book right now.


Friday, January 12, 2007

Letter to the late, Kera d’Epee October 31st, 1990


Page is sleeping comfortably, and my baby boy is doing the same. I am staring at them both, sitting in the room, unable to sleep. I’m too excited. Page’s labor was uneasy, as Teresea told us it would be.

Brendan Carey, he took his mother’s name for obvious reasons, tried to rip his way out of his mother. Page whimpered the whole labor, and she cried, and she broke my hand six times. (I didn’t laugh then of course, but I am laughing now.)

She found it very hard to keep up with the werewolf tradition of not changing during the birth. She disliked relying on me to do any of the fighting she would normally have to do. I do not understand why you werewolves do not change during the pregnancy.

Is it because you don’t want to curse your children with lycanthrope, even though that has very little to do with it. When he finally escaped his mother’s womb he smiled brightly and cooed.

Page held him close to her. She was so exhausted. She kissed him gently and fell asleep. I picked him up. I tried not to cry. I didn’t want blood flowing down my cheeks with a doctor and two nurses around.

He fell asleep in my arms. I’ve never had to be in a hospital when my baby was born, and I didn’t want to give him up. But they took him from me. Page’s sister, Jesse is having a mid-wife.

I received a call from Janus that they had a baby girl, he got to name her, he said, Summer Dawn. He had hoped that with the name Summer Dawn that she could have some hope of a normal life. I doubt it.

I’m so happy, Kera. Page has straightened my chaotic and meaningless life out. Now with baby Brendan, I’m getting everything I’ve always wanted. I want you to know, that since that time at the grave, I haven’t thought about you. It’s a good thing. Page is my heart now Kera… This is the first time I’ve even remotely thought of you.

Page is perfect, Kera. But please, for me, watch over her and Brendan. Keep them safe. I know you’re an angel Kera… Be their guardian angel.

-Rapier d’Epee

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Jesse 4

Excerpts from Jesse’s written Journal:

Day: lost track

Week: not important

Season: couldn’t care less

I found her. She was the same as always. Her smell burned my nose. I got off the train and immediately knew I was in the right place. I needed to see her by myself for the first time. I wanted to assess what was to be done and how strong she would be. Aurora was hurt when I left, but I was sure she understood. It didn’t take me long to find her when I began wandering the streets. Her stench was everywhere.

I found her pushing a brat in a park. The little brat wasn’t hers; they didn’t smell the same or anywhere near the same. The kid was also Hispanic, and from what I gathered about the Sword, he was white like we were. I wanted to run and pounce on my sister. Crowd or not…

I stepped forward and saw Page stiffen. She’d caught my scent. It made me think. Which would be better? Her knowing…or never being quite sure. The suspense factor tipped the scale and I melted back into the shadows. She could smell all she wanted, she’d never find me until I wanted her to. I watched as she ushered the kid away from the park, thinking I would come after her there, and still not knowing what I was exactly. It made me laugh. She was supposed to be so strong, and yet she was running from something she couldn’t even see yet. All she could so was smell me. So strong…

She dropped the brat off at what I assumed to be her mother’s home and I followed Page back to her house. I waited until she settled in. Letting the edge wear and giving her time to talk herself out of what she had just gone through. She was going to let her mind take control and tell her it wasn’t real and it was just a fleeting moment. It got dark and I smelled the activities of life inside: dinner being made, dust from cleaning the typical smells created when people live in a house. I walked from the bushes, startling a kid on his bike, and marched up to her front door. I knocked on her door and lounged against the railing of her porch. She opened the door and stood in shock. I took the opportunity to pounce on her. I easily dominated. I could have killed her right then, but it wouldn’t have been as much fun. I held my clawed hand over her throat, slowly cutting off her air supply. I would have kept on, letting her go unconscious and then waking her back up only to repeat, but someone walked into the room. I looked up and saw a man standing with two swords drawn and ready. He was kind of cute. I’ve seen better looking, but not bad for a whore like my sister.

He held the swords at my neck as I talked with my sister, trying to get me to release her. She took my by surprise and kicked me off of her. I landed closer to the door and sat up, looking at the two of them. She still couldn’t believe it was me. He stepped between us, trying to take this fight, but I snapped at him and Page took control of the situation, begging him not to intervene.

She surprised me when I started to fight her. She was stronger then I anticipated. I struck at her and she caught my blow mid-strike. She twisted my arm around to pop it out of its socket. A sharp pain, but no irreparable damage. I simply put it back in place and prepared to fight better. Sister dear, has learned to fight. I landed a fair amount of blows for sure, but she was able to hit me as well. I will need to keep up on my training. There should have been no way for her to hit me. In the exchange we had changed positions and I glanced over my shoulder at the man my sister was whoring herself to. I walked around him, taking in every aspect of him. Up until that moment I hadn’t really paid him much mind. "You choose well Page, if I were going to be a whore, I'd choose someone like him too. He's kinda cute…" He shook like he wanted to hit me. That was fine. I could take it rough if he needed to. I grabbed her and pulled her to him, deciding I’d done what I wanted for the day. “I won’t kill you yet big sister.” I had said. “But know it is coming.” I pushed her away and to add insult to her wounds I kissed him. No where serious, just his jaw. I winked at him. I vaguely heard her growl at me as she righted herself and readied to pounce on me. I turned and left, giving no air of being afraid, because I wasn’t. It was fun to torment my sister. I am glad I choose to make me miserable before I kill her. It is a lot more fun for me.


Saturday, January 06, 2007

Summer's Journal: Thirty-Third Entry

The Illuminati; I hold such a deep seated hatred for them. One can never understand why I feel the way I do. My father often spoke of them. The Illuminati formed long before Christianity. They weren’t called the Illuminati back then. They shifted and changed to become the Illuminati.

When they first started there were four of them; a descendant of Lilith, a descendant of Cain, a descendant of the followers of Anubis, and a descendant of Adam. Otherwise known as a vampire, a werewolf, a mage, and a human. They made it their mission to slay any supernatural creature they ran into.

By the end of a five year campaign they had gained followers. Soon the original four had to sit down and make a charter. Only one left the room, the mage; he had slain the others and wrote the charter himself.

Stained with blood from the beginning he said only a mage could ever be the leader of the illuminati. By the time Christ was crucified the Illuminati had grown to be an organization that was feared among supernatural creatures. Still, they didn’t have a large enough following to keep everyone in check.

The Dark Ages was when the Illuminati claimed their name. The Lightbringers. At this time, Supernatural creatures were numerous, many were learning to adapt with the human expansion into their lands. The Illuminati decided that adaptation was not enough. They had to be slain.

During the dark ages, supernatural creatures had a ratio of one to twelve. They weren’t hiding, they were in the open, one supernatural creature, to every twelve humans. The Illuminati then held a campaign. The Great Purging of 1066.

This was a terrible year for supernatural creatures. Anything you can think of, fairies, nymphs, vampires, werewolves, mages, mermaids, dragons, phoenixes, thunderbirds, yeti, zombies, skeletons, necromancers, elves, gnomes, kelpies, dwarves, brownies, selkies, druids, bog beasts, and everything you can think of. At the beginning of the year we were at our most numerous. At the end of that year we were at our least, approximately one to one thousand, five hundred.

My father was one of the lucky ones to survive. He allied with one of his greatest enemies to do it, an ancient werewolf named Feral Fang. Together they took a stand in an old castle. When they could no longer defend against the waves and waves of illuminati, they ran, and hid deep in the mountains, deep in a cave.

My father regrets not fighting harder, but he knew what needed to be done. The Illuminati during the year 1666, took another year to purge. This one was on demons that leaked through the cracks during that particular year.

Today, the Illuminati are an organization that has people in every government and has a branch of their own in each government, lead by a mage in the Vatican. Sometimes we call them the ‘Greens’ or the ‘V.E.R.T.’ the greens obviously come from the abbreviation meaning the French word for green. V.E.R.T. means Vatican Emergency Response Team.

They have kept us. KEPT us at the population of 1 to every 33 humans. The Illuminati are Lightbringers. They have a special dislike of Necromancers. So special its that I am the only one left. The only reason I haven’t been killed is because of my father.

They are frightened of him. If they were to kill me, then he would kill all of them. He would hunt every single one down and kill them. Everyone in my family is protected by my father’s reputation.

He was hired by them once. They paid him off in lands and this gothic hotel we live in now. He had to catch a woman named Aurora Dawnsfire. Many people know her better as Thousand Faces. She’s my godmother.

He was the only one they could think of who could capture her. He had no idea who she was, or what one day she would mean to this family. He captured her, and with the help of a council of illuminati mages they were able to lock her on that island.

I know that Godmother often goes on Illuminati hunts; because of how hard they hunt her. She’s very powerful and the Illuminati hate when somebody is free, and has more power than they do.

As someone reading this journal could guess. There is something that happened today that spawned this entry of hatred, but I am not sure what it all means. I am going to ask my father and think about it, and probably write about it tomorrow night.


Thursday, January 04, 2007

Summer's Journal: Thirty-Second Entry

Chris and I were defeated today. Not just a normal defeated. A bloody mess defeated. If Chris couldn’t heal, I would still be bleeding. A rogue werewolf entered the school’s quad today. Chris and I were walking to History together and we heard the howl. We instantly knew it wasn’t a dog.

The rogue werewolf was a big one, and as soon as his dark fur contrasted with the snow that laid upon the ground, the normal humans ran. My mother always spoke of human’s fear of the supernatural. Most of them wouldn’t remember why they ran. They would think it was a wolf or a bear.

Chris squeezed my hand, and we knew what we had to do. Whoever this wasn’t smart because Aunt Page’s house was nearby. If the wind blew just right he would be put down. Chris held his hands ready, and I ran to flank the massive brute. It began to snow. The werewolf narrowed his eyes to slits and stared at us.

He was between Chris and I. Not that it was a brilliant idea. He turned to me. I closed my eyes. I began to search for something dead, “Chris there is nothing! Get his attention!” I heard crackles through the air and the werewolf turned. I saw scorch marks on his back.

There was nothing dead, anywhere nearby. Blood filled my mouth; a long bone spear appeared in my hand. I threw it at the Werewolf; it struck his shoulder, and stuck there. He turned to me, and leapt from where he was, and I felt a dull thud hit my chest and sharp pain of his claws. The blood leaked from my mouth and covered my face.

“SUMMER!” Chris yelled as lightning struck the werewolf. It went through me, but I didn’t feel the pain. The werewolf did a flip using my ribs as a jumping board. I groaned, “Make it a blizzard Chris!” I yelled. I fought to my legs, and Blood filled my mouth again, and I threw another spear at him, as Chris began his chant to make it snow even harder.

The snow began immediately so thick I couldn’t see three feet in front of me. I heard him crunch through the snow. He was coming towards me. I saw his muzzle through the snow, and he saw me. I spat the blood in my mouth at his muzzle, and it covered it, he sneezed, the scent of my blood being incredibly strong.

He brought his claw towards my face, and it struck. It ripped clean into my flesh. Chris threw fireballs at him. Not knowing where he was, two went whizzing by. I was starting to tire. I concentrated hard. I raised my arms upward. A wall of bones separated the wolf and I, and I ran around the small barrier, towards Chris.

He broke into it and sent bones flying all around. Chris was shocked when he saw my cheek, “Blow the wind towards Brendan’s house, now!” I gurgled through the blood. He reached for my cheek, and I shot him a look as I raised my arms, and another bone wall appeared. The werewolf leapt through the barrier and He hit Chris.

I spat the blood into his face again, “Over here!” I yelled. I began to run through the snow. He leapt in front of me, and by the time I tried to turn, I slid in the snow and hit the ground. I began to back crawl.

He stalked forward. A barrier of fire was in between it and myself. I jumped at first, and then I realized it was Chris’. The wolf leapt over me towards Chris. I screamed in Astral Speak, “SAVE HIM!” I rolled over and rushed towards where I heard the wolf. He was getting pushed backwards from some thing.

I looked closer and saw five or six ghosts shoving him back. But they were unable to manifest themselves for much longer. Chris concentrated the wind towards Brendan’s house, and both my spirits and his fire died, and the wolf grabbed us both and threw us. I didn’t know where Chris landed, but I landed across the quad. When I hit I felt the dull, dull pain spread through my whole body, and I felt the pain in my nose and my ribs.

I tried for a breath and couldn’t get one. I heard the werewolf running towards me. He leapt into the air, and as he was about to land on me, a black werewolf tackled into him and together they went crashing to the ground.

I tried for a breath and failed again. There was too much blood in my lungs. I gasped and got a little air. I coughed, and blood came out. Aunt Page picked up the werewolf and tossed him. He hit a tree, and it covered them both in snow. I coughed again and blood launched itself out of my mouth.

Aunt Page howled, and ripped into the werewolf’s chest. He reached a clawed hand into it, and pulled his heart out and tossed it away. He shifted back to a man, and Aunt Page shredded his flesh. She stood triumphantly on him and howled.

I coughed again; more blood escaping my lungs. But it felt like more was still filling my lungs. Chris found me. He ran his fingers along my cuts and it burnt. His hands started to glow yellow, and I felt cracks, pops and pain fill my body. He then drew his hands from my mouth to the back of my head, and I felt the blood in my lungs exit my mouth.

I reached for him, and that was all I remembered. I woke in Aunt Page’s house. Bandaged and bloody. I moved and I felt sore. Little Lara was sitting watch over me, and she had fallen asleep. I didn’t want to wake her.

Chris had fallen asleep on the opposite couch. He was very bloody, I figure mostly because of all the blood I have when I use my magic. I kissed his sleeping lips softly. He wasn’t awake, It was just an act of tenderness I could do for him, not my first kiss. He saved my life. I owed him that much.

I rose from where I was, and I walked down the hall to Aunt Page’s room and I snuck in and I laid next to her, “Dawn,” she said sleepily, “Are you okay?” “Yes, I just am very, very cold.” She covered me up, and pulled me close to her.

I woke in the morning alone, and Chris had left. I stumbled through the house, and found Uncle Rapier. He smiled when he saw me, “You kicked me out of the bed last night, Sweet Summer. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

“I’m just a china-doll Uncle Rapier. I was manhandled…” Uncle Rapier raised an eyebrow, “From what Christopher told me of the fight, you were the one controlling the way it went. You just couldn’t keep up with a berserk werewolf.” I nodded, “I want to go home.”

“Expect your mother to be uber-mom,” he said. I spoke softly, “I always do.”


(It’s the clan’s 50th post. I had to do something special.)

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

jesse 3

Excerpts from Jesse’s written Journal:

Day: later

Month: Same

Season: Spring…still

I was completely humiliated. My soul stripped clean before his very eyes! I have never felt so ashamed in all my life. Not even being dominated by the first wolf I had met; not even reveling in his blood as it spattered on the ground when I killed him. I was ashamed of nothing. I did what I needed and nothing more. This…this was a cut so deep I can still feel the burn of the blade. Blades…plural. His blades.

He had been gone for a week! A week since I woke in his room, with no one but Aurora to help me. Aurora was not the one with the answers…he was. I was getting impatient. Not only had he set his spooks to killing me when I entered his confounded mansion…now he was no where to be found! Gone had the Dreaming Wench said. I didn’t want him to be gone…I needed him here! Why else would I have come back?

I had been waiting and finally on the night of the full moon, I was sitting near a pond in his garden. Aurora had just given me a note from Grandfather. It made me sad and happy at the same time. He had not abandoned me. This made me happy. The news brought into light, I had hated him…or at least held extreme dislike for him. This made me sad. I hate feeling such strange emotions. I have been able to shut them down for so long. I think being in Janus’ home for so long has done exactly what I didn’t want. It’s making me soft, bringing soft emotions I don’t want. But that is beside the point.

He crept from the shadows telling me…ME it was alright to cry when the letter brought tears to my eyes. I asked him where my sister was. He knew I needed to kill her and that was my goal. “I like you sister…” He had said. I wanted to hit him. “but I’ve given her the only aid she’ll get from me, now I will help you.” I did hit him. He had helped her, seen her when he knew I wanted to rip her throat out. He should have taken me and made my life easier. Who was he to stand in my way of getting closer to my sister so soon? He was no one. We had a heated discussion which ended with me covered in blood from a blood explosion. It was so painful. I will never forget it. It pulsated and burned and squeezed. He didn’t hold me in it for long, though it felt like forever. When we actually began to fight, the coward struck Aurora! He couldn’t even face me in a battle. I was so worried about her, when he did strike me I wasn’t able to defend myself. His blades cut deep into my legs.

I couldn’t focus on anything but Aurora, not even the burning pain in my legs stopped the chant that echoed through my head. She would be alright. She has to be… I repeated this in my head over and over again. He threw me across the garden. His words were so hateful. I will never be able to erase them from my mind. “You’re not even in the right league yet kid…” He had said. He had called me a puppy. It was salt on my wounds. He was older and stronger and better then me. I was not a puppy by normal terms but he threw it in my face that there was obviously no chance to gain any of the lost years between us. I don’t know why…but that thought bothered me then and it still bothers me now. He’d hit me in the face with his wings and then the next thing I remember was the sound of thousands of screeching bats and their claws all over me. It was painful and I wanted to cry out. I had to keep fighting. I would let down myself and my grandfather if I didn’t.

He wanted me to submit! Part of me screamed Yes, yes I’ll submit… but the ever present defiant part of me choose that moment to speak. I told him I’d never submit to him. He froze then and blood had come from his mouth. I was shocked, not sure what was happening. Aurora had impaled him with her tomahawks. I was angry, scared, upset, hurting and triumphant all at once. So many emotions that pulled me in so many directions; they brought tears to my eyes. I was angry…this was my fight. MY fight. Scared…she had just killed him. I’ve seen death so many times, but this…this death scared me to my soul. I was upset because she had gotten the upper hand that I had not been able to. Hurting. This one is the hardest to explain. To see him collapse. Dead before me…it had torn me to shreds inside. I didn’t want him dead, but that’s the reason why I had been fighting him. Wasn’t it? Triumphant came only because I was the one breathing and still alive. My angry side won out over all the emotions and I yelled at Aurora. I didn’t mean to, but it was the first thing that had come out. “This was my fight! My fight!" Without even thinking I had shattered Aurora.

She had shattered me. I couldn’t even understand how she had done it…I was broken inside. She started to leave and anything left intact in me snapped and fell into a thousand little pieces. I chased after her. I couldn’t loose her too. I wouldn’t be all alone again. I couldn’t. I’m…I’m afraid to be alone again. We both cried and I apologized, trying to fill the gap I had so effectively created. We sat there for a while, calming and collecting our thoughts. I didn’t want to go back in and see it, but I knew I had to in order to get my stuff. Aurora actually took the lead and it was her startled gasp that galvanized me to get up and see what had happened.

He was there. Sitting there as if nothing had happened. I was so confused. I wanted to run to him and hit him and yet at the same time I wanted to cry again but not from sadness. I didn’t understand why…I really still don’t.

To keep from embarrassing myself I locked my knees and fell to the ground. He wasn’t done with me yet. He created two blood clones and I watched in horror as one of them splashed me with burning blood. It fueled my anger and hurt me, since all I really wanted to do was run up to him and make sure it was really him. Touch his skin and see for myself he wasn’t hurt. The same clone stabbed my legs and left the swords there, the burning and pain brought tears to my eyes. He did the same with my arms and pinned me to the ground. Two more blades were held at my neck and for the first time since the accident I was afraid.

He was so mean and uncaring. He wasn’t the Janus I knew…the one I had come to trust and somewhat care about. I looked to him, searching; hoping to find the Janus I knew in there some where and call him out. My voice was not working so I needed him to be there for me to see so I could plead with him. I was so afraid when his eyes met mine. My Janus was gone.

His clone had split into two and they grabbed Aurora. Another wave a fear coursed through me. I felt sick to my stomach and I know a few tears leaked from my eyes, though I think they blended with the sweat on my head so no one had noticed. I begged him not to hurt her. “I'll do anything, I submit! Just don't kill her!" He wouldn’t do it. I needed to sacrifice. I offered myself up. I was nothing without her. My grandfather would not take me back, I could not kill my sister without Aurora there to stay by me…Janus was gone and he would turn me out to the world…leaving me alone forever. I couldn’t loose her. The words I said next, I don’t remember saying, just hearing them in my voice. "Take me! Torture me, kill me, whatever you feel the best. Just don't hurt her. She has nothing to do with this! Your fight is with me." I had sobbed. I was beaten, broken. He held my only life-line in his hand and he knew it. I had one great weakness…and it was those I care about. He was capitalizing on that and it hurt to think someone I trusted would cut me so deep, even if he was mad at me.

He released Aurora, saying I’d learned my lesson, but he didn’t want her to heal me. He kicked her, but she healed me anyway. His next words…will ring in my head and my heart forever, “Damnit Jesse, your so damned stupid.” He said more, but I was caught on that. He had never called me stupid before. He had actually thought I was highly educated when we had first met. Had I dropped so low in his eyes?

My eyes, as much as I hate to admit it, broadcast everything I feel for anyone to see. I needed to see him. To see if he was my Janus again. I knew if I looked at him he would see it all. The hurt, the vulnerability, the shattered broken remains of what was left of me inside. I didn’t care. I needed to see. “At this moment, you look like the puppy you actually are.” It shattered my heart, the only thing I had tried to keep intact. Someone, who had shown me so many emotions, had called me weak and young and frail because I had shown him mine. He didn’t care what he had done to me. "Should have trusted the undead to hold such a cold heart." I stood, feeling it better to say it and wait. If he had wanted to kill me, he would and I wouldn’t have stopped him. He did get angry and stormed over to me. The air was so charged plants started to wilt and the air crackled. Our conversation I will try to remember, it was the closest I’ve ever come to expressing anything for someone besides my family:

“Did you just call me cold hearted?! Do you have any idea what you are saying? I’ve loved more people than you’ve ever even seen. I’ve seen people die for other people because they love them. I’ve seen people spit in death’s face for love. I’d die for that woman lying on my bed, eternally asleep. I couldn’t lay a finger on my daughter even when she killed my wife because I loved her… Cold hearted? You’re one to talk Jesse. You would kill the world if it meant another day of survival. Your grandfather’s poisoned you. He saw you as clay to mold into the perfect warrior. He failed. The perfect warrior has compassion. It’s what keeps him alive! Do not tell me I am cold hearted…”

I wouldn’t look at him, he had already seen my emotions, I wouldn’t give him the pleasure of seeing them again. "Don't you ever think you understand me. You have no idea."

“When you were seven your sister tossed you overboard of a boat, and you wanted to kill her at such a young age. Aurora found you, she was the only one there for you the whole time in your entire life, she took you to your grandfather, whom you just found out actually loves you, and kicked you out to get your story started. You’ll do anything if it means survival or getting closer to killing your sister. You..” He had changed to look like me, adding more insult to injury. “I only can love those who have never abandoned me, mainly Aurora who is like my mother and my sister, and besides my grandfather the only person whom I have ever loved. I trusted you, Janus! But I lost that trust in you because of what you’ve done. What I don’t understand is the huge point you’re trying to make, I can’t grasp it, I’ve been brainwashed. I shall continue to be so…”

I stood, my anger and hurt welling inside me. I smacked ‘his’ cheek, prepared to bare what I never thought I could. "I do not love only those who have never abandoned me, my grandfather abandoned me and I felt like I died a little more inside each day. I never hated him, I was angry and upset, but I never hated him. I love him. You think I can't or don't love, you're wrong. I can love and I do. I just can't show it because I don't know how." I started to walk away, not being able to look him in the face when I said what I needed to say next, "They aren't the only ones I'd die for either…"

I had shocked him and he said that I couldn’t possibly be serious. I was. I couldn’t get more serious. Such emotions were like signing my own death certificate. Someone would use it against me and I would die, not being able to stand against someone holding him or my family hostage. I had just signed my life over in that one, sad little sentence. He asked me why and I gave him the only answer I could give, it would be the same for my grandfather and Aurora too. “You cared…”

He talked, though I was only half listening for the rest of the conversation, I got the bits and pieces that were important before he left, saying something about midnight and the ballroom. I left too, following only after I knew he wouldn’t turn around and find me. I am sitting in a small room, staring at the pressed, dried black rose he gave me on our first meeting. I kept it. It’s been pressed and sealed in a place I hold sacred. The only place my thoughts and emotions can run free and no one gets hurt…

*Passage of time*

It hasn’t been long. I’m on a bus with Aurora. We left Janus’ home. As we left I couldn’t overcome the urge to show him, how deep my words in our conversation truly ran. I left the dried and pressed black rose on a table in his home. When he finds it…if he cares. He’ll know. He’ll understand. ‘The ball is in his court’ as I’ve heard it said. Only time will see if that action results in my death. Maybe, just maybe, my path to normality is shorter then I think.