The Wicked Walk On Every Side

Chapter 1

"The wicked walk on every side, when the vilest men are exalted."

Psalm 12:8

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Wolfbane couldn't see. Everything was as black as pitch. He couldn't speak. No matter how hard he tried to, he couldn't seem to even mutter a word. He couldn't move. He strained his muscles, trying to blink, scratch his nose, anything. But nothing happened. All he knew was that it was cold. So cold.

The teenage boy started to hyperventilate. He hated the dark and the creatures that seemed to stalk him when the lights went out. His breathing increased in pace until his body was shaking and he had to gasp to even inhale properly. Suddenly, a small light, like the flickering light of a candle, appeared in front of him.

Wolfbane stood, despite the protesting in his legs, and tried to walk towards the light. Instead of getting closer, like he expected, it seemed to get farther away from him with every step. He started to run at the light, thinking that the faster he traveled towards the small pin prick of light, the faster he would arrive in front of it. Unfortunately, Wolfbane's theory was incorrect. The faster he ran, the faster the light seemed to travel away from him.

He fell to his knees, wheezing and gasping, trying to regain his breath. The air around his was so frigid that his breath came out in a wispy cloud of white. Wolfbane shivered violently. He spat a curse and slammed his shaking fist into the ground, letting out a broken sob when he realized how much it actually hurt. The sound seemed to echo, the sound waves bouncing off walls and ceiling for what seemed like forever. Eventually, after an eternity of listening to his broken sob again and again and again, the sound faded into the endless black that surrounded him, and he felt alone again.

Then, a haunting melody seemed to seep through the infinite blackness, bringing with it color. Beautiful blues, and gorgeous greens. It started out soft, so soft that the blonde boy had to strain his ears to hear it, but the volume was increasing with every second. The music seemed to paint a picture around Wolfbane. He sat and listened to it for what seemed like hours, the classical music comforting him, yet sending a chill running down his spine at the same time. After watching blues and greens and purples run together in front and around him, he was quite startled to see a stunning scarlet suddenly bloom on the ground in front of him.

Wolfbane extended his arm in front of him, trying to touch the red. When his fingers finally came in contact with the stunning scarlet, the scene suddenly changed. He was on his knees in the middle of his living room floor. His hand felt something warm and thick . He brought his hand up in front of his face. To Wolfbane's horror, his hand was stained with crimson scarlet. He looked down at the floor, and immediately found the source.

Wolfbane's entire family lay in crumpled heaps on the floor. He saw his older sister, Belladonna, her black hair spilling about her like silk. His twin sister, Atropa, laid with her pale face toward the ceiling, her brown eyes open and seemingly lifeless.

Wolfbane, who couldn't find the strength to stand, crawled over to his twin. Out of all the blood that was oozing onto the floor, hers was the most sickening to look at. He picked up Atropa's hand and held it to his cheek. He started sobbing uncontrollably. He cried like that for several minutes before he heard a rasping sound, which was coming from his twin's throat./

"W-wake u-up." Atropa said in a soft, raspy, voice. Wolfbane opened his eyes, which he had closed when he had begun to cry, and looked at his twin's face. Her eyes, once a rich coffee brown, now a color equivalent to ditch water, were trained on his face. She opened her pale, chapped, lips, and said, "Wake up!" The voice in which she spoke was not her own. It sounded suspiciously like his mother.

Wolfbane looked over to where his mother was lying, and found that no, his mother was not the one that was speaking. This confused him greatly, because he had been sure that the voice he had just heard was his mother's. The teenage boy felt a tug on his wrist and he looked back down at his twin. She shakily raised her eyebrows and said in a much louder voice than before, "WAKE UP!"

Wolfbane sat up quickly, knocking his head against something solid, make the headache he had developed even worse. He opened his eyes and saw his mother standing over his bed, holding her forehead. Behind her were his two sisters, both looking genuinely concerned.

"Ouch!" His mother said. She rubbed her forehead to try and get rid of the dull ache.

"Sorry, Mum." Wolfbane said quietly. He pinched the front of his t-shirt and pulled it away from his chest, finding that it had been plastered there with sweat. Wolfbane tried in vain to remember what his nightmare had been about, but no matter how hard he tried to get a glimpse of what he had dreamt, his mind kept drawing a blank.

Atropa, who could easily sense the distress in her twin brother's stature, carefully tread over to his bedside. She took his slightly trembling hand and started to stroke two fingers over over his palm in a circular motion. The action had always calmed him, even when he had been a toddler. Wolfbane almost instantly calmed down. He leaned into his sister's shoulder and took a shaky breath.

His mother softly cooed at how cute her children were, then said, "You three are going to be late for the train if you don't hurry up and get dressed."

Belladonna, who was already dressed in a black sundress and a pair of silver leggings, came over and gave them both a hug. She gave Wolfbane an extra kiss on the forehead for comfort, then proceeded to pull Atropa out of the room so that Wolfbane could change in privacy. His mother followed the two girls and shut the door with a soft click.

Wolfbane grabbed a blue and black flannel, a white tank top to go under it, a pair of jeans and his favorite pair of converses.

As he changed, he took time to re-bandage the recent cuts on his arms and sides. When he was done bandaging, he tilted his head up and looked in the mirror. A pair of acid green eyes looked back at him. His mocha face was thin and his cheeks were hollowing out as each day passed. He parted his short blonde hair and gelled it into place. Wolfbane then grabbed his prescription glasses, put them on his narrow nose, and went downstairs.

Peppermint, his pet peregrine falcon, was perched on the stairs railing, waiting for Wolfbane to come down and feed him. The auburn colored falcon had a parchment envelope clutched in its beak.

"Hey girl." Said Wolfbane, gently petting his companion between her wings. He took the letter, and then promptly fed her a falcon treat that he had gotten at Eeylops Owl Emporium the other day when the family had taken a trip to Diagon Alley.

Wolfbane walked over to the kitchen table and sat down, setting the envelope on the table. He then opened it and read it. The letter was from his best friend, Aster. She had asked how he was and if he was doing okay. Seeing as he would see her on the train to Hogwarts today, he didn't see reason in writing her back.

His mother, father, and both of his sisters waltzed into the room. He quickly hid the letter, seeing as his parents didn't know that he was depressed. He didn't want them to worry about it, because it would just cause stress in their lives that they didn't need.

His mother placed a plate of food in front of him. Wolfbane didn't want to eat, but his twin grabbed his hand under the table and he decided that one plate of food for his twin sister was the least that he could do.