SOMETHING ROAMS THE NIGHT...

THIRTY FOUR

"Is every single one of us leaving?" I asked Ezra after a long while, my eyes on him as he packed my clothes into my luggage. His jaw was clenched, and he look flustered, as if he was still bothered by...the kiss.

"All I know is that the police are staying, as well as Zac, and Damon probably," he said, not looking at me. "But let's not worry about them, let's just worry about you."

"Ezra, about what happened-"

"Let's just not talk about that, okay, Haley?" he cut in rudely. "Oh, sh-, I'm sorry," he said afterwards, standing up and taking my hands in his. "I just don't want to talk about that now."

"Yeah, okay," I pulled away. "It's okay."

"But I promise, once we get out of town, I'll make it up to you."

"Okay," I nodded, then tried to get up, but to no avail. I was still too weak to even stand properly.

"Whoa," Ezra was there to support me. "Get some rest, Hale. I'll help you pack."

I laid back down on the bed, and closed my eyes. Was it the right choice to leave town? What if we had a chance to kill all of the reapers?

I let thoughts swirl randomly in my head. I hated this life. It was a normal Sunday, and I was getting ready to leave the place I grew up in, forever. Just because we were chased out by some evil, cunning, blood-sucking creatures.

"Ezra?" I said, technically speaking to the ceiling.

"Yeah?" he stopped what he was doing, paid full attention to me.

"You're not leaving with me, are you?"

"Huh?" he let out a fake laugh. "Why would you think that? I told you, I-"

"You were never going to leave in the first place," I continued. "You just want me to go."

"Hale," his eyes locked on mine as I got into a sitting position. 

"Why are you doing this? You take me round and round with your words, and in the end you're just going to tell me you're not coming. You knew I could hear you last night, so you just convinced me so that I had to leave. Is that what it is?"

"Haley, I...I would never want to leave your side, ever," his blue-green eyes flamed with intensity. "But I don't have a choice. Please understand me."

I didn't have the strength to argue, so I didn't say anything. Ezra went back to piling my clothes neatly into the luggage, and we didn't talk for what seemed like eternity.

All of a sudden there was a loud bang from the living room-as if someone had been hit really hard on the head-followed by my mother's bloodcurdling scream.

"What the-" Ezra was on his feet, alert. I forgot the pain that I was going through, and followed him out of the bedroom. 

When we stepped through the doorway, a grim sight met my eyes. Aunt May was sprawled on the carpet just a metre away from me, warm blood exuding out of the large wound at the back of her head. Her eyes were open, glassy. It took less than a minute for me to realize that she was dead. I stifled a scream.

Kneeling beside my aunt's body was my mother, weeping unconsolably. Her hands were clasped in a prayer position as she pressed them to her forehead.

And just then footsteps sounded from the kitchen, drawing near us.

"Please," my mother begged. Why did she sound so afraid? Who the hell was that?

"So you didn't tell me you were all leaving town."

That ever so familiar voice. Way too familiar.

A man with dark hair and a broad figure appeared in the space before us. He was twirling a revolver in between his fingers, a wide grin-somewhat mocking-plastered on his chiseled face.

Oh God, no.

Beside me, Ezra's mouth dropped open-he was evidently appalled. His voice came out shrill as he said the man's name.

"Damon?"