It didn't stop raining. I remember wondering if it would ever stop raining.
Despite Niall's vehemence for answers to all of his questions, Scarlett and I only sat in silence on one of the remaining church pews, helping one another dry off with some of the towels Annalise had thought to bring. Zayn was the one to call Louis and Annalise back to the base and it was Liam who occupied Niall's time to keep him away from pestering us.
Even without having any inkling at all as to what had happened to us in the woods, everyone knew it was serious. Serious enough that Scarlett and I were soaked through to the bone with rain and blood. We smelled of the fish from the lake and the mud caked on our skin. When Scarlett dissolved into silent, violent tears, I could only take it upon myself to wrap a towel around her hair and squeeze the water from it before taking each of her arms and drying them off as well. Her body shook not only with sobs, but from the stinging, violent cold everyone was enduring.
"We need to go back to the cabin. Now," I said lowly, eyes cutting at Niall who, for once, didn't have anything to say. Once Annalise and Louis arrived, we were already packed up and stacking things into the truck. Zayn insisted on driving with Scarlett and I in the passenger seat. It seemed everyone understood that something had shifted, something indeterminable and strong. Some contract had been drawn up in the brush of those wet woods and now Scarlett and I were bound to it, and with that, to one another.
The only sounds to be heard was the pitter-patter of rain on the windshield and the squeaks the truck made as it pushed through the wet roads, up the drive to the cabin. Scarlett stared blankly ahead, her body close to mine. Thoughtlessly, I stretched my arm out behind her and gave her the privacy to mourn without my worried gaze. My own vision blurred with exhaustion and the sheer weight of my recent actions. Justifying it as defense didn't make it any easier to bear.
Zayn peered over at me with furrowed brows. In his eyes I could see concern, but I only shook my head. I wasn't ready to answer any questions, and it was clear that Scarlett needed to be taken care of immediately. I pushed the door open and hopped out, my boots sinking into the muck. I held out a hand that Scarlett accepted as she climbed down. She stayed at my side, leaning her weight into me until the moment we stepped foot through the front door. There she stripped herself of her coat and boots before moving to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. The sound of running water followed her departure. I stared after her blankly.
Unsure of what to do, I shifted my weight once, then twice before impulsively turning and heading back out into the downpour. With the rest of the crew preoccupied with unloading equipment from the truck, it was easy to disappear. I made as little sound as possible, pushing open the door to the shed near the tree line and picking up a shovel before I even realized what I was doing. Only when my fingers met the cold metal of the handle did I understand what was happening and what I was about to do.
Hesitating, I considered the weight in my hand, considerably less heavy than the weight in my chest. I took one deep breath and plunged back into the rain and darkness.
I don't know how I ever found the place again. It was miles away from the cabin, and I probably walked for hours before arriving at the spot where I had sliced Henry open. I couldn't recount the details of the trek. It felt like I'd lost time; one minute I was deciding to leave the shed and the next I was standing over the body.
The cold and the rain didn't bother me anymore. I hardly noticed it, staring down at the boy I'd killed only hours before. His eyes were clouded, unseeing as the rain hit them, then ran down his cheeks like tears. His lips and fingers were blue. The latter curled unnaturally tight. I could only look away in shame before planting the shovel deep into the leaves and getting to work.
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Vo'ke
FanfictionThe wolf comes at night, a looming beast with glowing eyes. The howl is unmistakable, a forlorn wail that resounds in the Ozark backwoods for miles, startling those who hear it. The people of the Osage reservation have taken to locking their doors a...