𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊⠀ ⁽ ¹ ⁾

ROGUES .1

The arm grab yanks me back as I try to leave the scene. "I know what you did." She states angrily. Letting me go, I see that huntress side of her. The accusatory tone of voice, her hardened glare. No longer the meek and curious college student, but instead sporting a plaid red tank top, and black jeans. Her pinned up hair, cascading in waves of angry brown down her shoulders. Nowhere near as fragile as I pegged her to be.

"Do you think I killed that man? Are you out of your mind!" I yell at her at a self-contained level. Allison shoves me back as I get in her face. "You did! Otherwise, why would you be running away? Are you some kind of psychopath that enjoys seeing his handiwork in the newspaper." 

Her hostility riles a reaction from me. Before she can get rough with me again, I catch her wrist. "Don't touch me," I growl. "Or what?" She retorts trying to tear her arm free, but I don't let her. "Are you going to kill me too?" Leaning closer, I look down at her, my voice stern. "Last warning."

There's a moment when I can sense panic in her. The way she slightly steps back, but attempts to hold her own.  Realizing what she's doing to me, I let her go and walk towards my car. Flinging the door open, I get inside without putting on the seatbelt. Gripping the wheel tightly, I feel my claws tearing into the leather steering wheel cover, and fangs grinding in my mouth.

I nearly lost it with her, I can't let my anger get the better of me. What I need to do is focus on finding the killer, challenge or not, before the townspeople get picked off one by one.

...

Gazing out the diner window, a homage for the waitress is put together. A photo of her friendly face stapled to the street light, illuminated by candles on the ground. With a heavy sigh, I continue scrolling through the images of today's crime scene on my camera. "Brom," another waitress speaks to me behind the counter. "It's late, you should head home."

She's someone I haven't met before, or maybe I haven't paid that much attention. Glancing down to her name tag reads, it reads Moon. Thinking that she must be new, I give her a sad, sympathetic, grin. "Thanks, but I think I'd rather stay up." 

Voices of customers warning one another to be on the lookout echo in the background, along with strategies from hunters. Ignoring them, I read over the message in one of the photos. Most specifically, on the waitress' chest. The aggressiveness of the attack seems personal. He is trying desperately to get what he wants, and I know exactly what he's trying to get. 

My status. 

In my family, the status is being alpha. The only way to get it other than inheriting it, is to kill for it. With its tremendous power, it'll double the abilities of the average werewolf. Lifting my coffee to my lips, I freeze. Outside, the scent of blood prompts me to turn and look. A man is standing in the window, smirking to no one else but me.

A car passes, illuminating his blood-stained clothes. He gestures to the side with his chin, before sprinting away. Without thinking, I grab everything I have and swing it over my shoulder. Bolting for the door, I push it open and stand on the sidewalk. His faint silhouette heads to the woods, to my home. Using an ounce of speed, no one sees me run, but they'll notice the tussled newspaper fluttering on the ground.

By the time I catch up to him, he's standing on the farthest side of the clearing. His arms cross in front of his chest while inspecting the space. "Nice place you got here," he says smugly, then looks at me directly. "'Alpha.'" I stand in place, elevating my chin in a show of authority. "I was wondering who was impulsive enough to trespass on my territory," I state intimidatingly. 

"Impulsive?" He chuckles, tilting his head in amusement. Wiping innocent blood from his face onto his shirt sleeve, he shrugs blatantly. "Pretty much, but it worked. How does it feel to have two bodies made just for you?" Holding back from throwing myself at him, I know that this is exactly what he wants. If he can trigger a brash reaction out of me, he'll use it to his advantage, I can't allow myself to give in.