𝑨𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒂 𝑳𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏

𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖞

ᒍᑌᒪIᗩᑎ

𝟭927
𝗧𝗶𝗺𝗲: 𝟭𝟯:𝟭𝟲

𝗜 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗦𝗔𝗧 by the table drinking my fourth bottle of whiskey as Lolita was asleep in her bedroom. Dealing with a banshee is hard work. I love her though and I care for her. Maybe she was the blessing I needed to get out of my head. I smiled and got out of my seat.

I blew the candles and stepped outside for a detox. I staggered out of the house, my body heavy but mind free. I pranced down the trail until I came to an opening. The moon shone onto the bed of water, giving it a sharp sparkle and bit of life to it.

I sighed and got close to the water. A wash of depression and sadness cuffed me. I dropped to my knees and cried. I knew why it was, the reason I cried. My heart still hurts from what happened, the screams, his cries of pain and apologies, begging to be let out from that fire.

My body wouldn't allow forgiveness. Not in that moment; and now...here I am, rethinking it all again. I need to stop drinking. I only drink to remember him and then regret it all later. I have Lolita now. I don't need to think about him. I don't need him.

What brought me back to my senses was a snap. I froze, my heart steadied, silence took over, my tears stopped. Someone's here. What if it's Lolita? But I left her sleeping.

Lolita. Something's wrong. I splashed my face with water and sobered up. My head hurt but I ignored it. I stood to my feet and just as I did I was knocked into the water. I went under with a hard pang.

My side was sliced. I looked up to the surface, a blurry figure hovering over as if to join me underneath. I pulled myself up, wrapped my hand around its ankle and slammed them down to the left of me.

I trudged myself out of the water in pure surprise. "Well look who it is, Julian Omed, just the guy I was looking for." Says the bigger one of the bunch. He's in form, his animal form. Eight feet tall, full fur, abs, nails and teeth longer than any I've seen. He's not an ordinary wolf, and he looks familiar.

Surrounding him is many many other werewolves, a few of them vampires. It piqued my interest on what a mixed crowd of vampires and werewolves are doing looking for me. As if killing a few Warlocks and Wiccans weren't enough for me a few years ago.

"Man he's fast." I gazed in my peripheral and saw one of his minions rubbing the back of his head as he emerged from the water with a cheeky grin. "Dagon, can we end this now so we could get the girl?"

Dagon? The Dagon Rufeur? I've heard stories about him, the Vampire killer. They say for him it's a sport. I don't get his dislikes for vampires but for someone that loves to kill them...why is he surrounded by them?

"What is this?" I finally ask.

"Your funeral!" The one behind me made a move to attack me from behind but I sidestepped out of the way. She staggered in front of me but made a sharp turn. He rushed me and due to me not being dive with analyzing the situation, I decided to put him asleep.

"Yanam." I touched his forehead and he dropped in front of me. A simple move like that shook them, I could feel it in the air. I was in no mood for a fight either. But I couldn't show them that truth.

"What is this?" I ask again.

"We want the girl. We know you have her." Dagon responds. I scoffed.

"Girl? What girl?"

"Don't play stupid with me. I could smell her on you." I kept my cool, kept steady, kept my ground. I didn't even let him walking close to me shake me. He may be tall, but I'm sure I could take him. And all one hundred and ten of them. In the trees, going miles behind me just waiting for an order to attack.