The Story Of Night

Chapter 12

Night's P.O.V.

I transformed back to my human state.

My monster suit is great for fighting, I guess, but with it comes a burden. The monster side of me is amplified when I transform.

And that side of me craves blood.

I wandered back to the house.

I didn't even notice the human mom standing in the doorway of my room until I heard her scream. I was too caught up in my thoughts. I hadn't even noticed I had went to my room at all.

I turned around. Her hand was on her mouth. I wondered what she was looking at until I remembered. I hadn't remembered to wash the blood off. Nor had I remembered to put the knife back.

Oops.

She gaped at me. I tossed the knife out the window and smiled weakly.

"Artemis?" Her voice was full of horror. Well. Now she would think I was a murderer. Great. Cool.

What happened next was completely unexpected.

Five minutes later, I was slumped on the couch in front of a middle-aged, brown-haired man. He was talking to the human parents. The human mom was sobbing.

"Her depression can be healed, right?" The human dad asked.

"Yes, if her depression is treated immediately, she still has a chance." The man said.

"I'm not depressed." I huffed, but they paid me no heed.

"So, can we schedule some therapy sessions?"

"Yes. The price ranges from 70-80 dollars per hour." The man tapped his clipboard with his black pen.

"The price is not important." My mom said. She turned to me. "Please, sweetheart, try to get better. Alright?"

And that was how the therapy began. My parents messaged the school counselor about my 'depression' and the counselor looked at me all funny the next day. My mom also had a meeting with the principal and explained that I might have 'outbursts' and to 'take care of me'. I just rolled my eyes.

It's not like my depression stops me. I can be crying my eyes out and still drain the blood from your body. I've dealt with this, like, all my life. Chill.

And now, every week, I was stuck for an hour with a lady with a smile that was too big. "Hi! I'm Rachel, your new therapist." She squealed when she saw me.

She just looked too fake. Like a Barbie.

I crossed my arms and sat down. She wasn't getting anything out of me.

By the end of the hour, she had asked about a million questions and had told me that 'she was here to help' so many times my ears hurt.

"Come on, honey." She cooed.

"Don't call me honey." I snapped. Anger boiled up inside of me. 'Honey' was a pet name that my parents used.

I hated it. I hated them. I hated that they ever lived and I hated that they were dead. I hated that they ever called me that and I hated that they would never call me that again.

All in all, I didn't want to hear anyone call me honey.

"Calm down. It's alright. Now, can you tell me why you tried to commit suicide? You can tell me anything. I'll help you." I stayed silent. Tell her anything. Sure. Like I could just tell her I was an immortal down on Earth who had to save the world from a maniac who wanted to kill all of humankind.

I could imagine her face if I actually said it.

Finally, it was over. Rolling my eyes, I exited the building with the human parents, who were standing near the entrance.

The human mom was looking at me anxiously. "How did it go?" She asked brightly on the car ride back. "Do you feel better?"

"I was fine in the first place." I muttered.

"We have a surprise for you at home." The human dad said, keeping his eyes on the road. How delightful. A surprise. Another counselor? I couldn't wait.

A cage was set on the floor of the living room. The human mom opened it and plucked a ball of fur out.

A ball of fur. Humans are more bizarre than I thought.

Then the ball of fur meowed.

"It's a kitten." The human mom exclaimed excitedly. "The psychological doctor said that having pets is good for depression."

A cat. Was she trying to kill me? It could murder me in my sleep.

"I don't want a cat." I growled.

"Come on, sweetheart. Just try it. Please?" The human mom's tone was desperate.

And that's how a cat ended up in my room. It hissed at me, puffing out it's fur and arching it's back as if to say, 'don't mess with me or else'.

I wasn't taking an open challenge. I hissed right back.

It stretched out it's claws and raked them down my arm. Blood spilled out.

Angry, I lengthened into a wolf. Claws sprouted from my fingers, and skin melted to fur. In a second, I was a pitch-black wolf with blue eyes. About two feet wide and eight feet long. My two-legged stance dropped into that of a wolf. With that, I picked up the haughty little scrap and put it into my mouth, biting down.

It yowled in dismay, muffled by my jaws. I swung my head, holding it tight. I could feel blood in my wolf mouth. I dropped it, transforming back before I started craving blood again.

"Don't try me." I snarled. It shuffled back into a corner and started licking it's wounds, smoothing it's puffy white fur. It eyed me with it's blue eyes warily.

I don't think it'll try to attack me anymore.

I didn't even feel the wound much. I've been cut so many times, I'm used to it.

My mind trailed off. This cat could be the end of me. Cats are on Sun's side. What if it was a spy? I had to kill it.

Maybe the human parents would be heartbroken, but I had to.

I walked over to it. It hissed nervously, backing away and fluffing it's fur, but in a flash, I was gripping the cat. Hard. Wrapping one hand around it's soft neck and covering it's panicked mews with the other, I squeezed the breath out of it.

It struggled weakly. "Not much of a fighter, are we?" I murmured. Eventually, the light in it's eyes faded.

I scooped it's dead body from the floor and plopped it back onto the cat bed the parents had bought. Surrounding the bed were countless boxes of cat food and two cat bowls with "Frost" written on them in swirly cursive. I guess it's the kitten's name.

I felt a little bad about strangling it. It was only a kitten. Weak and helpless.

But I do what I have to do. If it means killing all the kittens in the world, I'll do it.

The next day, I would wake up and pretend to be devastated for the cat that had died in it's sleep.