Beautiful Redemption ━━ Teen Wolf [3] [Completed]

24 | a ghost in the mirror

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Not Edited

▶   ▶   ▶   ▶   ▶   ▶  ▶  ▶  ▶

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR;

     A GHOST IN THE MIRROR

     "Thanks for calling, finally." Clara responded to the counterpart on the other end of the phone, her tone of voice a mix of sarcasm and bitterness. In the midst of the barely lit loft was where the teenage girl continuously yet slowly paced back-and-forth. Her arms were tightly pressed against her chest while a cellphone was almost glued to her right ear. The other voice on the phone was Tate, her sort of, technically, kind of legal guardian. After the whole incident with Scott, where he nearly wolfed-out in the middle of a classroom (thank the lord it was an empty one), Clara's mind was occupied with concerns for the rest of the school day. One of them being Scott and the other being Tate. 

     It was only when she arrived home from school that Clara eventually plucked up the courage and dialed her familiar friend's number. "I know, I know, I'm sorry." The man apologized, before letting out a long and seemingly stress-laced sighed. "I'm searching up-and-down the west coast. Things haven't been progressing." 

     She bit her lip, "Any leads on Morella's whereabouts."

     "Yeah, one." Tate answered, though it sounded as if he was disappointed with the small number. Truth be told, so was Clara. "I stopped by a gas station over in downtown Seattle and asked if anyone had seen someone looking like Morella. One of the guys said that he might have recognized her and gave me half of the license plate on her car."

     Her eyebrow rose, "Only half?"

     "He only said the numbers he remembered." continued the man. "I'm gonna head down to some of the car-rental dealerships in the city and see if I can find out which car Morella might have rented. If she was smart ― which, knowing my sister, she is ― she would have used a rental car instead of using that same old mustang she's had for about ten years."

     "Can't track her scent?" Clara wondered.

     "I caught a whiff of it in Portland, near a motel by the border, but it wasn't strong. So far, nothing in Seattle." Tate let out a long, harrowing sigh, indicating the amount of stress that was weighing down on him. "I don't know why she's doing this. I don't why she's making me play a game of cat-and-mouse with her."

     All Clara could do was shrug and attempt to comfort him, "Morella either has either a cruel sense of humor or she's not doing this on purpose. Who the hell knows what's going on with her. Listen, I've got to go, it's getting late. Call me soon, alright?"

     "Alright."

     With that, the signal was cut off and the female werewolf was left pacing in her spacious loft. Things were expected to revert back into a normal dynamic range after defeating the Darach and saving the parents of her three friends. Of course, she didn't expect her life and the pack's to be unicorns, grassy meadows, and sunshine, but things were suppose to calm down. Then again, she shouldn't be so surprised nor this exhausted about it; this was the lifestyle she had welcomed back once she decided to stay in Beacon Hills after her capture. 

     In the midst of her intense pondering, a warm sensation spread through out her nostrils and a second later, a heavy liquid trickled down her lips. When Clara wiped her mouth and pulled back, a red liquid was smeared across her skin. Heavily bewildered, she ran towards the bathroom and looked at the mirror, her reflection blinking back at her. Blood slowly leaked out of her nose in tiny droplets, painting the lower section of her face with crimson. Tissue paper was grasped in her hand as she hastily rubbed off the substance from her face.