The Fawx Bite

XX.

Sophie Grimm's head hung low. She was panting and barely conscious. Her entire body was covered in a sheen of dripping sweat. There were bruises decorating her pale skin. Along with blood. Though her body looked relatively unscathed compared to her hands. They were twisted, mangled pieces of broken bones. Echo hadn't needed to move past them. Sophie had spilled the information in her mind after the first three fingers. She had given even more when Echo had gotten the drill and the nails. She had fire, but it was quenched quickly when the pain came.

I had refused to move an inch while Echo had very carefully taken Sophie's mind and body apart. I had realized an intensely painful truth. Liane had died all those years ago. The girl in front of me may have been my sister in blood, but that was it. She had evolved into something more. Her humanity being the key into her becoming a monster. I felt more fear towards Echo rather than the bloodthirsty being upstairs.

Echo wiped the blood from her hands with a rag. She chucked it over into the corner. Her face seemed to have been chiseled from stone with the angles and the coldness within the skin. Her eyes shifted towards me, pinning me against the wall. "Well, do you think that she gave us all that she could?"

"Um," I bit my bottom lip. "She told us about plans to use Viola and me to create a new breed of soldiers, which I don't think would work cause I'm a coward when it comes to – " Echo's eyes narrowed " – anyways, obviously not important. The last bit, not the first bit. That first bit was really important. She admitted that she started experimenting on creatures because of her petty anger that she never became a werewolf herself. Um, I think that's really it? Other than the stuff about Anthony Momsen and his quest for power – "

Echo cut me off with a nod, "True. She fed us quite a bit of information. Admitting to visiting the former headquarters of ALDAR was an added bonus. But she left out one piece of important information."

Sophie began to cry in earnest again, weakly pulling at the nails that had been drilled into the bones of her wrists. I watched the scene unfolding in front of me. Feeling oddly sick, yet detached. Echo cocked her head, which only made the girl cry harder. Choking on her own saliva she said, "He t-told me I c-couldn't say any- anything. He t-told me. He knew what-what was coming and he told me not to s-say anything."

"Say what?" Echo asked, her voice dangerously soft, almost gentle. I walked forward to stand next to her, feeling my heart crawl up my throat.

I could smell the stench of pee coming from Sophie. She closed her eyes and shook her head violently. "He's prob-probably already here."

"Who?" I asked faintly, already knowing the answer.

"Stoker."

I grabbed the gun from Echo's waist before either of us knew what I was doing. Marek – who had been watching from the top of the stairs avidly – released a cry of alarm. I pointed the gun at Sophie's head, shaking from rage. Cold water seemed to wash over me. "You're pathetic."

Her round, agonized eyes stared at me.

There was no sound, just the feeling of power coursing through my hands and then Sophie's head snapped back. Blood and brains splattered against the wall behind her. My ears were ringing though I didn't understand why. My eyes shifted from the mess in front of me to look down at the gun. There was a hint of smoke.

I had shot her.

I had killed her.

I killed someone.