THE LAST WOLF STANDING.

🕑🕛: THE THIRD PETAL HAS FALLEN.

(listen to this as you read the parts in the brackets.)

                 RUBY'S DIARY.

' Revenge is a big word that encompasses a lot of emotion, I think we can all agree on that. The details that surround that is vital as it creates how one ends up on how to plan ahead. As humans we bottle up so many emotions that dealing with each one together is hell but breaking them down one by one helps. It is true that first and foremost Anger never comes in first. First you sit down relax listen to the pain that push that continuously stabs you in the back, front and center. This might go down in a short time phrase as you try and figure out what has taken place. Slowly by slowly or fast depending on the person an emotion grows like a small light growing and growing to a full blast explosion, one that makes you scream trying to unblock it from your system but when that doesn't happen it changes to a spear going through you it shifts to a numbness giving your time to absorb all that is gone. At that time everything is quiet you think clearly focused on a single goal. At this point, the last stage, that's when the anger walks in prying your mind like a monster to its prey. That anger blinds you your thoughts and the only colour you see is red. The blood of the one causing all this emotion. Then you go through a breakthrough, like a lapse of time, a moment that forces you back into reality like a warm smile from a loved one, forgiveness from your enemy or falling in love with the opposite side. This time revenge becomes a small word, an echo far from the care of thoughts. It becomes a question no one is ready to answer. Was it all worth it?'

("Did   you get errick, you need to come home." Jonathan shouts out the window of his brother's room knowing very well he can hear him despite the distance. He has always heard him even when he is distracted. By the worried ton of his brethren's yells, Derrick quickly pours his aunt's ashes from his palm to the wooden floor super speeding out the window, chanting in his head 'please let Reagan be okay'. It took some time to get to their house, but he was determined making on time to see what was happening to his younger brother as he preferred calling. "Reagan, are you okay?" "He is dying Derrick." Jonathan grumbles between his teeth holding on to Reagan's hand feeling his cold hand warm up like he had malaria fever. Derrick moves to the bed feeling his cousin's hand watching him shiver despite the rise in temperatures. His pale skin turning paler and the wound on his hand turning a dark red shade as it bleeds out once more. Rushing over to him derrick places his left hand palm on his right hand trying to give comfort to the dying male not caring if his tears fell on the boy's black shirt. All he knew was he did not want him to die. "Reagan, Reagan ... You need ... You ... um." "How's mom?" This very question is the last thing that he wanted to answer. The truth might not change but it's worth not adding anymore suffering to the already dying boy. "Just tell me cause I deserve to know. Is she dead? . . . Am I dying too? Are my sisters dead too?"

There was no way he was going to believe this, they were in a nightmare that is what this was. His little brother is going to live no matter what. "No, you are not you here me. You are still alive even though . . . everyone else is . . . the spell may still work ... " "No It's not going to work bro, the person that could have saved me . . . h-has b-been . . . d-de-dead for decades." Cries Reagan letting his cold tears mix with the sweat on his face as the shivering continues. He was clearly not going to chase after the clouds after the symptoms started to show. It's hard living that long with the promise of immortality. The lie that no weapon on this world could stop them from putting him down. That lie was told to him for three hundred years and it was indeed a good three hundred years full of trial and also full of thanksgiving for the many who have been with him making his journey worth living for. "Am going to d-die . . . only slower and with more suffering than the rest, the weird thing is . . ." he stays quiet for sometime feeling the cold wet cloth on his forehead moving liberating from the slight heaviness. "I don't know if I should thank the person or curse him." The silver head shakes his head denying the death acceptance of his blood cousin. Giving up has never been part of his plan since he was born, and he was not planning to do so today. "Reagan you cannot give up. Am not going to let you die. So please you need to hang on," Derrick pleads "I'd like to have that, I have so many things planned. crap then there is Ruby ..." interrupted by an itching thickness demanding to be released forcing him to cough several times. With each time a hot red liquid falls to the bed. The two by his side seeing this quickly help him sit up properly Derrick rubbing his back while holding a soft cloth by his mouth easing the sensation bits by bits. "It hurts." The grip on both their hands gets stronger as Reagan squeezes with every of burning pain in his veins. A burning torture like magma swimming in every tube in his body. "Urgh! Why won't torture end. It is getting unbearable." Complains the dying vampire suddenly getting startled by his phone's annoying ring tone.