Silver Skin

53

The Moon's Children
~
Accalia
~

The servant's screams were a siren to the guard who slept at the other end of the passageway in an empty cell.

He had failed. That teeny tiny break he took, his little slumber — his time away from them cell door, was the exact piece of hope they needed.

They had the snitch to thank for that.

The servant was a banshee pronouncing death, wailing into screeches of those that died. She was screaming for all of them.

Her tray of bread and water fell from her hands and skittered across the floor, leaving another jarring ring throughout the dungeon.

Only, she couldn't be more wrong.

"They're—they're dead!" Claire, the servant, shrieked and covered her face with her hands.

The guard barrelled down the hall and Claire nearly fell against his chest in shock.

The foot of his boots banged against the cell bar and no sentence could be formed as he stared upon the display of the death.

His eyes peeled across the fallen and laid-out bodies. He banged against the bars, but no one moved. No twitch, itch to scratch, no breaths.

Claire's screams overpowered their labouring breaths and slow-beating hearts.

And as it played out, the hunters died first. Bite marks latched onto one, slit wrists on the other. Bites from the vampire and slashed wrist from any sharp point this cell could give to take her out. One fought to survive, the other could no longer be bothered. If one hunter was dying — dying to join their family, the other would follow with them. Silver and blood.

The she-wolf, the pack-less, the lone wolf followed after the hunters. Her black hair spilled around her, shielding one side of her face. The blood that seeped from the midsection of her stomach indicated someone was quick to finish her off.

The vampire's poisonous bite laid into the many, the dentures of her teeth blotching on every portion of skin until she met her end too, slashes of claws marks all across her body until no more blood could be spewed.

Tala was the last survivor. The fallen Beta after slashing her claws tipped in blood across Alexene's neck.

"Shut the fuck up!" The guard screamed into Claire's face.

The servant cocooned herself into freakish whimpers, hiccups spewing out of her mouth as she gasped for air.

The guard pointed to the laid-out figure that had a slash of claws across her neck. "It was the vampire. She killed them all."

The servant gripped the roots of her pixie hair and her pinched face rounded into devastation. "Oh, Tala. Not her."

The guard fumbled with his keys. "One of the wolves would have finished her off. They all have bite marks. They're all dead. Stop your fucking crying."

Blood-shedding was useful to their cause. They only cut those that were willing, the ones that would heal as quickly as they were cut. Painting crimson across the skin like bloodied canvases. A white portrait waiting to be painted by fingers and claws.

The guard opened the door and kicked it open, stepping in.

Silence followed.

Blood-letting wasn't a skill they needed to master. It was exacted without practice. Without thought.

Alexene sprung to her feet and lunged at the guard, burying her fangs into his neck.

He had no time to scream, no way to fight and no chance to even if he tried.