The Many Regrets of a Cyborg Werewolf

What it all Means - XXVIII

He stood before the couple, bottle in hand, the twinkle of moonlight refracting through its green glass catching his eye. He could drink so much, bottle after bottle, and it still wouldn't push the pain away. It would dull it, throttle it, maybe even weaken it, but it never left. Like the knife still embedded in his flesh, every time it went deeper. Every time he saw the look of horror on a face. An entire life, years of happiness, misery, laughter, and anguish, gone in an instant. Like it never even existed. It was easier when he hated them, when he blamed them, when they were just an animal to him. When they were the "other side." It was easy to find reasons. They were criminals. Murderers. Thieves. Abusers. That made it so much easier. But they were also sons. Daughters. Husbands. Wives. They loved or were loved. Even just people, alone, but still a living thing. They still had lives. Emotions. Aspirations. Why couldn't it be easy? Why did he have to start seeing these things? Why couldn't they just be animals? Why couldn't he just be an animal? He dropped the bottle. It was empty. They cowered. He held the stone in his necklace. Pretend it was them. Pretend they did it. Maybe, just maybe, that would help. The hunger pushed him. The pain stopped him. He was being torn from his own skin. Why couldn't it be easy?

He didn't take his clothes off. He didn't need to. He wouldn't go far. It was too much. Just a little. A little bit, he thought. Thoughts were scattered. The couple tried to run. They moved so slowly. The whole world did. Hundreds of years might as well have been thousands. Everyone was slow. They didn't get far. They screamed. They saw his face. It wasn't a human's face. Yet it wasn't his face. He was halfway, like he was inside, on the outside. It used to be easy. They used to be animals. The ones who did it were animals. That was so, so easy. He couldn't look at them, but he couldn't stop, not when the hunger came. Not when it shackled him, tortured him, reminding him every day that he wasn't going to stop. There was no other way. That's what he told himself. That's what he told them. He screamed it, cried it, his tears running into his mouth. Maybe that's why he never saw him coming. The man in the mask. Maybe that's why he let him win. Maybe this was finally his time? Maybe this was finally over.

Luke opened his eyes, pulled away from his waking dream by the sudden buzzing. He sat up on the stone bench to see Mahi, in his merman form, blasting a water jet at the door of their cell. It sounded like an electric saw, yet the stone refused to buckle against the pressure.

"Don't bother," Luke leaned forward, resting on his knees, "this is a jail for golems. You won't break through."

"There's a seam," Mahi stopped his water jet, "if I can just squeeze through, maybe I can open it from the outside."

"Doubtful," Luke said, "the door we came in wasn't mechanical. They use magic to move rocks."

"Well we have to try something!" Mahi turned suddenly, "we don't have the time!" He pointed to Erin and Jim, who huddled together on the opposite bench. It was cold in this cell, colder than even outside, and they risked freezing to death. On top of that the cell was sealed, which meant they only had as much air as the cell held. Even Luke would pass out if he went too long without oxygen, but that would still be longer than them.

"It's alright, Mahi," Erin said weakly as she held onto her father. "They'll... be back."

"Listen to her," Luke said, and Mahi returned to his human form with a scowl on his face.

"You just couldn't help yourself," he said spitefully. "If you'd just not been yourself for fifteen minutes they wouldn't be in this mess."

Luke didn't answer, though he didn't break eye contact with Mahi, causing the mer to turn away and sigh in frustration. Luke recalled their conversation vividly.

"I'm so sorry," Jim uttered as he held Erin. "I should've never let this happen to you."

"I'm the one who should apologize," Erin replied, her eyes fluttering closed. "I lied to you... and mom." Jim didn't answer, but she knew he wasn't stupid. He'd heard what Hamam had said, pieced it together no doubt, but she still needed to confess. "That night, when Kyle died, I was attacked. It got me pretty bad, but I survived, and, well..." she found it harder to speak as the cold and thinning air sapped her strength. "You've seen movies, read the books... it's just like that in real life."