Paradise Pines (Shawn Mendes)

New White Wolf

It was time. Midnight had struck, Alfred had surely fallen asleep, and Iris was ready to make her move. Nothing would stop her from taking away his life. In the past, an event like this would strike immense fear in her, but she was always able to overcome it. This time, there was no need for overcoming fear; she felt nothing other than the need to avenge the victims of Yalda. No other thoughts crossed her mind other than the image of having Alfred's life in the palms of her hands.

Dressed in a black tee, jeans, and sneakers, she stood in the bathroom of her bedroom. She combed and brushed her hair back, pulling it into a ponytail. She gave one last look at herself in the mirror and swore her eyes gleamed white for a split second. "The white wolf rages within me," she uttered. "Time to satisfy it." She grabbed the lid of the toilet tank, surprised at the ease of carrying its weight. She went to the bedroom door and opened it up. One of the guards peered into the room. Swiftly, she whacked him on the head with the lid, knocking him right out. The other guard could not turn quickly enough to see what had happen. She whacked his head as well, and watched him fall to the floor. Blood streamed from his head and seeped into the wooden flooring. Quietly, she placed the lid on the floor and grabbed their hand guns, shooting them both in their hearts.

She walked back into the room and opened the big window. "What are you doing?" one of the guards asked. She picked up the guns and shot the guards simultaneously as they turned around to face her. She them closed the window and returned to the doorway, peeking out at the hallway. A guard stood at one end with a rifle raised in front of him. Once he noticed her, he quickly shot at her. She ducked her head back inside and pressed her back against the wall beside the doorway. She listened keenly to his footsteps that he tried to keep silent. Certain he was finally in front of the doorway, she popped out and shot him right at the center of his forehead. His eyes rolled back as he fell to the floor.

Iris had successfully killed all of the guards on the premises, which she found alarmingly facile. She continued down the hallway, into the living area, and up the spiral staircase. She had observed Alfred going up the steps, thus she figured his bedroom had to be on the second floor. Stealthy and silent as she moved about, looking into each room she approached, she happened on a blissfully sleeping Alfred. He was completely unaware of his impending doom. She stood at his bedside, staring at the black sleep mask that covered his eyes. He must have been a deep sleeper if he slept through all those gunshots.

Slowly, she got on top of him, straddling him. Then, she removed his sleep mask with the desire of seeing the life fade from his eyes. To her surprise, he smiled with his blue eyes wide open as if he had been waiting for her. He scratched at her with his claws, slashing at her cheek and chest. She fell on her back, clenching her burning chest. Luckily, the scratches weren't deep, so they would heal rather quickly, but they were extremely painful. He got on top of her, retracted his claws, and wrapped his long fingers around her small neck. He squeezed it so tightly, she thought it would break. She kicked at him and beat on his chest, but her hits weakened as his choking went on. I cannot go like this, she thought. I can't! At that very moment, Alfred released her from his grasp and moved back with fear stricken eyes. Iris coughed and gasped, recovering from the chokehold. She sat up and found Alfred in tears.

"How are you here?"

"What?" she painfully forced out.

"I got rid of you, Francis. Why are you still here? How?" he yelled. She then understood, Francis, the white wolf before her had come to her aid. She moved toward him, backing him into the headboard. "Please just go!" he begged, hysterical. "Why return now?"

"Because, karma's a bitch." She grabbed his neck with one hand, squeezing it with all her might. All Alfred could do was stare as she elongated the claws from her other hand. She pierced them through his chest and then through his heart, pulling it right out. Feeling his pulse slow down to a stop, she let go of his neck and removed his warm heart from her claws, throwing it onto his oriental rug. Poetic. She wiped her hand on his sheets with a quiet murmur of thanks to Francis.