He's A Monster

Different

Marshal's Perspective POV

 My cheeks ached. My arms burned as if fire coiled through my veins. I blinked through the haze, the whole room spinning with fractured shadows and the wet gleam of blood across the cracked floorboards.

Danielle.

She was on the ground where she had fallen, convulsing in pain. Her small body writhed, her limbs jerking helplessly, her eyes squeezed shut against agony she should never have known. A sharp cry tore from her throat, and then she went still, gasping for air, lips trembling. My chest tightened like it was splitting apart.

And then came laughter.

Low at first, then swelling, cruel and delighted. Vincent's laughter.

I turned, and there he was against the far wall, half-risen, his face pale but his eyes gleaming. His ribs jutted sharply beneath his shirt, his grin wide and jagged.

"Look at her, brother," he crooned, nodding toward Danielle's trembling form. "Doesn't she look sweet when she suffers? She's breaking apart inside. I can smell it."

"Shut up," I growled, teeth clenched, every nerve in me ready to snap.

"Oh, but why should I? She's almost ready. Don't you see it? The pain will hollow her out. She'll be perfect then...just like us. Just like you."

"You did this," I spat, voice shaking with rage.

"Of course I did. Someone had to." His laughter burst again, harsh and sharp. "Oh, Danielle, so delicate... so pathetic. She'll never be more than a little doll for us to break. And you, brother, you're too blind to see it. She'll thank me when she's free of that fragile human skin."

"She'll never be a monster."

"Wouldn't be so sure about that." His laughter was cruel, digging into my ears like claws.

"Fuck you."

"No, I'll just fuck your little girlie over there."

Something inside me snapped.

I roared, lunging forward, my hands slamming into his chest. The wall shook from the impact, plaster cracking as I shoved him hard enough to leave an imprint. My fangs tore free, the burn in my gums igniting as my face distorted into something monstrous.

"Mine," I snarled. "She's mine, and you will not touch her."

Vincent only grinned wider. His own jaw cracked open, teeth lengthening into curved daggers, black eyes gleaming with hunger. He drove his forehead into mine with a sickening thud, laughter spilling even as blood ran from the split skin.

"You're weak, brother. You'd bleed for her, but you won't let her become what she's meant to be."

I slammed my claws into his shoulder, feeling flesh tear, but he twisted and drove his fist into my ribs, sending me stumbling back. My vision burst white with pain. He lunged, catching my throat in one hand and hurling me across the room. I crashed into the dresser, wood exploding beneath my weight.

Danielle whimpered on the floor. That sound, hers, drove fire back into my body.

I surged up, grabbing the broken leg of a chair from the wreckage. My chest heaved, breath ragged, the jagged wood heavy in my grip. Vincent stalked toward her, not me, his mouth curved cruelly.

"She's just a stupid little slut," he sneered, crouching as though to scoop her up like prey.

That was it. That was the end.

I lunged, body crashing into his, the two of us slamming down in a blur of snarls, claws, and blood. We rolled across the floor, teeth snapping, fists colliding, but I was already gone, lost to the frenzy. My body moved with pure rage.

I straddled him, wood raised high, and with a scream that ripped my throat raw, I brought it down. The stake plunged into his chest, sinking deep, the sound wet and final. His body convulsed, mouth falling open wide, blood bubbling at his lips. His eyes so dark and alive, met mine one last time with a glint of mocking satisfaction before they went dull.

Silence.

My brother lay beneath me. Dead. Pale. Still.

I killed him.

I killed my brother.

I killed someone. Again.

I pressed a trembling hand to my mouth, the word echoing inside me like poison: monster.

Only the sound of Danielle's faint, broken breaths filled the room.

I stumbled back, hands slick with his blood, mind reeling. I had killed him. My brother. My only kin.

And yet, as my gaze fell on Danielle's fragile form, the horror twisted into something worse—fear. Because Vincent's laughter still echoed inside me, whispering that she wasn't the same anymore. That she was like me now.

I crawled to her side, hand brushing her knee as my heart clenched. Her body shivered faintly, her breathing shallow, but she was still here. Changed, my gut screamed it, but still here.

"She's like me now," Vincent's dying words whispered through my skull.

"No," I muttered, shaking my head. "No, she's not. She's something she should never have known was real."

Tears blurred my sight as I touched her cheek gently. "Oh, Danielle, I'm so sorry. You're not a monster. Please, please don't be scared when you wake. You're still you. You're just... different. And I'll take care of you. I'll make you okay."

I bent my head, pressing my forehead to her arm. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me. You're no monster. The only monster here is me."

My voice cracked, shaking against the silence.

"Please don't hate me."

I shook her knee lightly, desperate for her to stir, whispering over and over through clenched teeth, "You're not a monster, just different, love. Just a little different."