Sacrifice.

Torture and Arguments.

Well. That was fun.

Katy was grieving, probably going through Dabda. Wuss. Luna wasn't dead, annoyingly, but Emmy was.. Well almost dead, and her mum... Or as I call her, my slave, was also dead. And I had Alaska to torture.

I arrived at my cave. Martha was strangle quiet after having seen most of her best friends.... And only friends.... Die. By basically her hands.

Gently setting down Alaska.... Or as gently as I could.... I decided to begin the thrilling torture straight away. I summoned up a full set of dark instruments of torture, varying from knives to axes. And, of course, the citric acid.

I arranged them all to a pleasing manner and got ready. More blood was going to be spilt. But.... I guess Alaska knew how it went. Death was beauty. Her dad must of taught her that.... Right?

Alaska's eyes fluttered open. She stared at me, then at the knives next to her, one of which was going to be the cause of her death. A small smile flickered across her face momentarily. Then she looked at me again. I held the bottle carefully, cradling it like Diana and Katy had cradled Emmy's body. I stepped closer, a playful smile flickering across my lips now. Would her famous father come to save her? I hoped so. But he probably wouldn't.

Her eyes showed no fear. That was what I liked about her. She was brave. She was.... Kinda like me... In a way. Just less deadly. In fact, the only thing I could see clearly in her eyes was the disappointment. And my glowing eyes reflected back.

I smiled at her more, and picked up the first instrument of torture, making it gleam in the fire light.

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Still, sadly, no sign of any other psycho killers. Well, me, but other than that... Like Jeff. I really wanted to meet him...

Blood was dripping out of my hair, and stained my skin and clothes. What had been a fascinating hybrid was now a indistinguishable form. The only thing that defied it as Alaska was the wings that were tied up behind her back.

I made my instruments vanish, more blood splattering on the floor. The now half-gone citric acid was neatly put away in my cupboard. Then I decided to wash.

I stepped outside, the sunlight blinding me. The lake simmered in a welcoming way. I walked calmly across, keeping my eyes, ears and nose perked for anyone. No one was in the near mile. I was safe.

I jumped in. The blood soaked off my clothes easily. The skin was a little harder, but with my magic, it was fairly easy. But the  hair was tough.

No matter how much I rubbed at it, it stayed as a red stain at the bottom. A little like dip-dye. But blood. I examined my reflection in the water.

A wild-eyes crazy girl with glowing evil eyes and now half red hair stared back. This seemed scarier.

I can't go on.

Martha's voice echoed clearly through my mind. I sighed, allowing my wolf to take over so I could 'talk' to her face to face.

She came into focus. The knife was still clutched in her hand. I smirked at her.

To tired? I asked  sarcastically.

She looked at me. Her eyes had huge bags under them, and had lost there faint glimmer of hope. Oh, no. I'm just fine. Having just almost personally killed my best friends..... Fine!

Woah. Someone needs to take a chill pill.

Suddenly I was forced back into real life. Then back to my head.

And my wolf looked at me. Martha froze, back in control. I smoothly took over again.

Calm it, Martha! Chill!

I was forced back. My wolf had been snarling but was now fine. Martha's wolf was still nowhere to be found.

I struggled more to break free, and then slapped one of my own power bracelets on my wrist. I felt my powers ebb away, slowly disappeared from reach. It was unnerving. I felt bare.

Let me GO! Martha was screaming now. Although I was vulnerable at the moment I still found her discomforts amusing. Almost heart warming.

No.

LET ME GO!

I've been trapped in there for 14 years. It's your turn.

It's not FAIR!

I snapped. Don't talk to me about fair. I've been trapped there for so many hours, just imagining talking to you. You drove me to this. So if there's anyone to blame... It's yourself.

You've killed everyone I care about! Everyone! My family... Dead. My friends.... Most of them, anyway... Dead. In fact, the only people you haven't killed yet is my pack.

And that's what I'll do next then.

NO!

Just remember, Martha. You drove me to this. I smiled a unhappy smile. She still hadn't figured it out.

Me and her didn't have to be together. But I had to kill the only person who knew how to separate us before Luna... Or someone who I had heard about called 'Mika' did.

And kill him.

The alpha.

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Hello everyone.

That authors note was bonkers, right? Yeah. Well, at the moment I has a vulpix, not cuckoo, spell check, a pikachu and a ratat. Not yet the greatest poke-trainer yet...

Oh! A marching band was caught! Yay!

Yeah. I wanna call you readers something! As in me, Brofist. The others may call you different things.... But I can't think of nuthin! So if you have any ideas I would love to hear them, just comment or whatever.

Comment the newest thing.... Budder! If you enjoyed this chapter.

In case you don't know what Dabda is... It's the five stages of griefing someone's death. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Wow, someone just swallowed a dictionary. It's probably really psycho of me, but I like the idea of dabda....

Yupp, dats all from me. Votes and comments are LOVED, followers are also cool. Lil_minnie is writing the next chapter.... OVER TO YOU!

Bai bai.