Eye of the Hurricane ▸ Scott McCall (2)

xxviii. MARKED

xxviii. MARKED

✢ ✢ ✢

"It's eyes were glowing," Scott reiterated, Foster, Scott, and Isaac seated in front of Chris Argent's desk in his loft, Allison by his side and attending to his wounds. 

It turned out that he had prior experience when it came to these creatures, which could either be a good or bad thing for them. It gave them a bit more of an idea as to what they were experiencing, but it didn't seem like Argent knew how to defeat what Foster now likes to call demonic ninjas.

Either way, years ago during Argent's first deal back in Japan, he had ran into these creatures. Their green eyes, their soulless figures. The darkness that seemed to billow around them like smoke. He knew of it all too well. 

"It was something almost ritualistic about it, like it was looking right into his soul," Argent clarified, Foster still shaken up from what just happened. It was the same thing it did to Aiden right in front of them, Lydia and Kira out on the balcony, Derek out in the garage, and Isaac the night prior. How could if have happened to Isaac without her knowing? It only made her feel like a terrible best friend for not being there.

"Same thing it did to me," Isaac murmured, Foster glancing over toward the curly haired boy. 

"Same thing they did to everyone," Allison pointed out softly, Foster gulping nervously, remembering how they were looking straight at her. Like she was the next one.

"Same thing they did to everyone, but me and Scott," Foster pointed out, her voice a little shaky. She wasn't exactly all too pleased about this. 

"Anyone in the supernatural," Argent added on, knowing that Foster was like Lydia, not a werewolf, but a creature within the world of all things supernatural. Making it possible for her to still be a target of the demonic ninjas.

"Then who's the guy they went after?" Isaac inquired, bringing the conversation back to Argent's experience in Japan.

"Hakumicho," Argent explained immediately, seeming to have this entire event completely and permanently scarred into his mind. Foster's mind was still racing about everything. She didn't understand what it was that these creatures wanted. What did the marks on the back of their ears mean, everyone who had their souls looked into received a backwards five. Foster had no idea what the hell that kanji even meant. "The Yakuza boss was my first gun deal. I was only eighteen, it was supposed to be a simple exchange except Gerard left out a minor detail of the buyers being the Yakuza. He wanted to see if I could adapt in the moment," he explained, Foster doing her best not to cringe at the mere mention of Gerard. That guy was brutal, honestly. "Testing my ability to uh - improvise."

"Or your ability to survive," Allison corrected, knowing that Gerard was all about survival. It was the sole reason as to why he, who hunted supernatural creatures, was desperate for the bite of a werewolf. To him, it was all about survival of the fittest. Nothing more, nothing less. 

"The moment the sun went down it was like they materialized out of the shadows," Argent continued to explain, lost in a memory of a time that once was. "They had swords," he explained, Isaac and Foster sharing a look with one another. "Not curved like katanas, but straight, black steel. Like ninjados."

From beside Foster, Scott inquired the one thing they were all wondering. "What did they want?"

"To get to the Kumacho," Argent answered immediately, Foster's nose crinkling. What the hell was a Kumacho? "They cut down every living thing in their way."

Isaac's fingers instinctively rested upon the mark burned into his skin, inquiring, "Did they mark him like they did us?"

Chris shook his head faintly as Allison tended to a long gash across the side of his face. "Not exactly. When they finally made it to him, they didn't mark him; didn't stop to think. Their blades tore into him, his eyes glowing a rippling white and fangs unlike any I've ever seen."