Hunters
Written by Megan.
147 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Male.
|
Post by Samuel Styles on Aug 29, 2016 23:16:45 GMT
It was an emergency. Little facts made it as far downstream as him, but the urgency in his father's voice wasn't something he could turn his nose up at. Bobbi was dead. His childhood friend. The first one on the scene to pick him up off of his bloody knees. The only one to stand up for him in his time of need. She and Gabe were all he'd had back then, and now? Now her body was chilling in a morgue because she'd been taken down by a rogue werewolf. His father had informed him late in the morning, proceeding with caution, and for once not because of the rift between the two of them. He knew how important the blonde was to him, and Sam had the inkling suspicion that his father may be using that against him to join the hunt. It worked. This wasn't something he did often, or even liked, but it was something he did well. Very well.
Word was that Bobbi had managed to kill the wolf before the life drained out of her, but that didn't mean there weren't others. There hadn't been any werewolf attacks in the past year that he'd known of, everything being kept low key after the dispute between the races last year, so this had to mean a new pack was moving in. Or new werewolves yet to get a grasp on their new power. Either way, the hunt was on.
A few other hunters had taken to his home office, gathered around his father's desk as they hatched out a plan of attack. He'd hung around the edges for a bit, adding in his two cents where it made sense and played a vital role in determining the reasoning behind the attack. Sam was the logistics. The brains and the brawn, all bundled up in a six-foot-four body and hidden behind a puppy dog face.
After an hour he couldn't handle it anymore, so he took point around sunset and headed out onto his front porch, phone in hand as he exhaled slowly. Was this something he really wanted to do? News had traveled fast, no doubt, hunters and humans catching wind of the wolf attack- only the first knowing that it was a werewolf rather than a random animal attack. The hunters huddled around his father’s office were having a hard time pinning if it was a lone wolf or just the beginning of the end. He knew of a pack, maybe two, neutral on Beacon Hills’ soil- but he wouldn’t be shocked if a new, rogue pack was moving in, hoping to gain ground on such silent wolves. It was only a matter of time, he’d just wished it hadn’t started with Bobbi. That in mind, heart in his throat and eyes damp at the thought, he dialed Natalia’s number.
Before she even had a chance to greet him, answering on the third ring, his tired, sorrowful voice begged, “Can you come over?” For an extra hand. He knew her family was just as deep in hunting as he was, but for comfort too. Sam needed someone to lean on. Teddy was on his way back, rushing as quickly as he could, but he wouldn’t be here soon enough. Noelle couldn’t get home quite as quick, college holding her across the country. He needed Natalia, needed someone he could turn to because he knew she’d known Bobbi as well. Not quite like Sam, but growing up in a small town like this, everyone knew everyone. “You can bring Alex or- there’s just a whole lot of hunters in the house and fresh eyes would be helpful.” That was a good enough excuse, but he knew it wouldn’t last. The moment she arrived, if she did even come, Natalia would be able to see right through him. He was barely holding on, eyes damp even now.
Sam couldn’t do this alone.
|
|
Supernatural
Written by Jasmin.
86 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Female.
|
Post by Natalia Harper on Sept 3, 2016 18:01:26 GMT
Natalia had known it was only a matter of time before something happened again in Beacon Hills. The town had been too quiet for her to feel at ease and she knew even Rose was beginning to wonder if something was about to happen. It seemed something had finally happened. Bobbi was dead, a girl both she and Alex had gone to school with but never really known much about. Still, it was sad to hear of an innocent person being killed by a rogue werewolf. More than anything though it made Natalia feel nervous. After hearing the news from her father she'd excused herself to go to the bathroom and had spent a good five minutes just staring at herself in the mirror. She wasn't looking at herself in a vain way but more in a way in which she saw the other part of her, the part that she was so careful to hide.
As she left the bathroom she felt her phone began to ring in the pocket of her jeans. Struggling to grasp it, Natalia only just about pressed the accept button after it had rung three times. She hadn't even read who was calling so when she heard Sam's voice, Natalia felt a wave of emotion course through her; hope, desire, longing and then after hearing him so upset, worry. Of course, how had it taken her this long to realise. Sam and Bobbie had been good friends back in high school, obviously he would be upset about the news. Walking down the hall she passed Rose in the kitchen feeding Elena some baby food whilst on Skype to Leon. Offering her sister a wave as she listened to Sam, Natalia stopped at the stairs and sat down.
"Yeah, yeah of course." She told him, catching Alex's eye as he headed out of their father's office, they too had been discussing what to do now, if they should do anything. "We'll be right over," Natalia bit her lip looking down at her knees before quietly adding, "just hold tight." Clicking end call, Natalia told Alex that they needed to head to Sam's and surprisingly her brother was more than willing to go. Then again, Alex seemed to think that he and Sam were good friends now so maybe it wasn't such a surprise. Alex headed off to tell Rose and check on Elena before meeting Natalia at the door where she was ready to leave with her car keys and a pair of boots on.
The drive to Sam's didn't take too long but Natalia just wanted to get there quickly. To be there for him. Geez, when did she become so soft.
Pulling up outside The Styles' house, Natalia parked just down the street at the first available spot she saw. "Nat, are you okay?" Alex asked, reaching across to stop her from opening the door just yet. "I mean, are you sure you have control?" Natalia stilled then meeting her brother's eye. "I'll be okay, if it happens today then it happens. Sam was bound to find out anyway." She sounded unsure though and that had Alex worried, Natalia was the one who was always sure. The one who never lost confidence within herself. "If you need to leave, you'll let me know, won't you." Natalia didn't reply just squeezed her brothers hand and pushed her door open.
Natalia and Alex didn't appear to need to search for Sam particularly hard when they reached the front of his house. He was stood right there on the front porch. "Hey," Natalia called, voice quiet for her. Alex beside her took one look at Sam and raced up to hug him. Wrapping his arms around Sam, Natalia could only stand back and watch, wondering if this had been Alex's plan all along. After a moment, Alex stepped back and wrapped an arm around Natalia's shoulders. It was the kind of contact she would have normally shoved off but looking at Sam and seeing him so upset, she accepted it. "I'm guessing you're not okay."
|
|
Hunters
Written by Megan.
147 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Male.
|
Post by Samuel Styles on Sept 4, 2016 2:01:29 GMT
It didn't take long at all for the revving of an engine to echo down his street before a familiar, which it felt weird to address as, car pulled into his lengthy driveway. The Styles' had been well off, old money feeding their bank accounts until his mother took to writing while his father held the town as sheriff until his recent retirement. The home wasn't humble. Too large and bulky for a family of five. A mansion among a cul de sac. People had always feigned to be their friends to get a peak inside, the Styles had been quick to weed out who was worth their time and who they should kick to the curb. Not many were left came the end.
Sam was a mess by the time he heard the car pull to a stop, his emotions getting the best of him now that he didn't need to hide behind a mask for the benefit of his peers. The other hunters understood the loss, came quick to realize that Bobbi was more than a small town cop. A lot of them were familiar with her, a girl who'd helped hunters and peaceful wolves alike keep the secret safe. She was a team player, a woman set on justice. Gave her life to save a dear friend of the Styles, but now Sam couldn't say he felt the same. Teddy had trained Louly better than that, they both had. They'd spent too long teaching the girl how to hold her own against the supernatural only to have her take off. Teddy had thought she was dead, such as mess with guilt because he'd been convinced that he was the reason she'd gotten into this mess. His brother had taken across the country, taking small hunts here and there to keep the werewolf population in check, never sparing a life that didn't earn it. Then, out of nowhere, Bobbi was dead and her blood was on Louly's hands. He couldn't look at her after that, not after knowing one of his best, his only friends was dead because she'd given her life for a girl who was a trained hunter. Bobbi was dead. She was dead it could have been prevented.
He was nearly crying by the time Natalia had walked onto his porch, Alex at her hip. Sam hadn't expected her to really bring him along, but he was grateful nonetheless. Sometime between their walk with Sadie and now, they'd actually become friends- Alex going overboard most of the time with it. Sam assumed it was because he felt bad for the way he'd treated the too lanky kid in high school, but he wasn't complaining. The Harper boy was a good man, sins aside, he meant well and Sam was glad to finally have him on his side.
And in his arms, apparently.
Sam should have been expecting it, really. Alex was quirky enough to throw all hesitation to the wind, and well, Sam couldn't help but be thankful for that. He hugged the man tightly, back, clinging to him for as long as he would allow as he hid his face against the man's neck. He wasn't proud about it, but he couldn't help it. When Alex pulled away, Sam was pink in the cheeks and sniffling softly. The press of tears in his eyes was strong, but he just barely managed to keep them out of his voice as he mumbled, "Not really." He forced a laugh, but it came out wet- causing him to duck his head down as he wiped at his damp eyes. It was the kind of thing his brother would have been ashamed of, but Sam had always been more open with his emotions. Even now, in front of Natalia, he couldn't feel ashamed for the sorrow he felt, couldn't be ashamed for showing it. It would be cruel to Bobbi to not express his pain, cruel to her memory.
So yeah, Sam was silently sobbing into the sleeve of his flannel on the porch of his house in front of the girl he loved and her brother.
He wasn't exactly okay.
|
|
Supernatural
Written by Jasmin.
86 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Female.
|
Post by Natalia Harper on Sept 7, 2016 18:40:04 GMT
Man it hurt seeing Sam like this. There was a type of pain Natalia could take away, the physical 'oh ow' type but emotional stuff? No she was hopeless when it came to helping people with that. Maybe it was to do with her bitch-like persona back in high school (which yes, she still had most of the time these days) or the way she'd never really shared in kindergarten, but that nurturing trait that most people grew up to possess was one she completely and utterly lacked. Now though as she stood watched a very broken and teary looking Sam, Natalia wished she'd played nicer when she was younger.
Perhaps Natalia shouldn't have brought Alex along when she was that he was actually better at comforting people than she was (not that that came as much of a shock or surprise) but he did always seem to have a knack for making people smile quickly and easily. That was actually something Natalia had seen a lot more of recently, a happy Alex making someone else happy. It seemed that recently Alex had put most of his efforts into being the best father he could be as well as making puppy/doe eyed looks at Max whenever he had the chance. Natalia was happy about that though, Alex had been moping too long.
As Alex stepped away from the hug, Natalia got a proper look at Sam's face. Yep, it was definitely more weepy now, dammit Alex. She hadn't known how to deal with his level of sadness before the hug and now it looked like the situation had just become harder. She could do this though. Natalia could so be the comforting person Sam needed and if Gen showed her face Natalia would double her comforting abilities.
That laugh was quite possibly the most pitiful thing Natalia had ever heard. Natalia chanced a look over at Alex to find him already watching her. Some classic twin telepathy occurred then and a moment later Alex said, "I'm going to go see what they're talking about inside. Our dad had some suggestions that I probably ought to put forward," so Alex paused taking a look to both Sam and Natalia before saying, "I'll see you in a bit."
Once they were alone, Natalia took a step towards Sam closing a fair bit of the distance between them. "I'm probably not the best person to offer words of wisdom but I have dealt with loss and I know that when I felt like you do now, I just wanted to run and get away." Natalia slipped her hands into each other, pushing her top lip over her bottom as she thought about how to phrase what she was going to say next. "Don't run away from it all though, it took me a long time to come back to reality after I ran and it wasn't pretty." No, she wasn't talking about her Grandmother's passing she was talking about the death of herself as a human and the slap in the face she'd had when it had fully sank in that she was a werewolf.
"So," Natalia reached out then, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder, it was a bit of a stretch but she managed. "You want to go somewhere and talk about it all?"
|
|
Hunters
Written by Megan.
147 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Male.
|
Post by Samuel Styles on Oct 7, 2016 16:17:21 GMT
Believing it was the hardest part. He knew she was gone, that he’d never get the slap on the back and cheery grin again, but believe it? Letting it sink in and swallowing that pill down? He couldn’t do it. It was if he still had hoped he'd catch a flash of blonde hair, that he’d hear his name fall from her lips one more time, but he wouldn’t. The sooner he accepted that, the better, but it was a slap in the face every time he tried. His family had taken the officer under their wing, teaching her how to handle herself when it came to the supernatural. If she was to protect the town, she had to do it knowing what was out there in the dark, seething at the mouth. Bobbi took it in strides, eager to learn more- just the way Louly had been before she’d taken off. Before she’d gotten Bobbi killed. It was easier to be angry than filled with sorrow, throw the blame on a trained hunter rather than accept that Bobbi had simply been more than willing to give her life for another.
Sam didn’t want to go to her funeral. He wanted her here, but that wasn’t an option. He had to realize that. Wiping at his cheeks, his fingers came away damp with a few stray tears that had fallen during his silence. Sam glanced away, then, needing a moment to collect himself- giving Alex and Natalia a brief second to formulate a silent plan. Not that he knew that’s what they were doing. He’d been using the sleeve of his coat to rub at his nose when Alex announced he was going to head inside, which startled Sam. Upon seeing the man, he hadn’t expected to be left alone. Alex was, by far, the more compassionate twin- though he would have preferred if it had been switched, but he wasn’t picky. Sam had already mentally prepared himself for more smothering hugs and light teasing, not to be left alone. He stared dumbly for a moment before he nodded, and gestured towards the door. It was probably best that someone delivered Mr. Harper’s message. The man was a superior hunter, someone he knew his brother had looked up to when he’d tagged along with his father on hunts with the man. The trio had gotten a lot done, and Sam trusted him. Whatever he had to say on the matter of the rogue wolf had to be important, could be vital.
But with Alex retreating into the house, that left him alone with Natalia, and he didn’t know what to do about that. He was a mess and she was uncomfortable and maybe he shouldn’t have called her.
But maybe he’d made the right decision by doing just that.
Natalia was trying, that much was clear. Her words were wise and hit him hard. He wasn’t blind, he knew she’d had some rough patches herself, and that’s what made it mean so much more. Sam had to accept that Bobbi was gone. Dead. Never coming back. He couldn’t just shove it aside. He had to handle this.
He let his hand rise to cup hers, a pitiful smile on his lips as he softly murmured, “Thank you,” before he coughed to clear his throat, moving his hand away to cover his mouth as he glanced away. Right, they were standing on his front porch. Maybe best if they headed inside somewhere. He glanced fleetingly at the house before he sighed and gestured towards the back yard as he offered, “I’m staying in the guest house out back. It’s quieter there.”
Sam honestly just couldn’t stand listening to that talk anymore, but he didn’t know if Natalia wanted to be alone with him, not when he was such a wreck.
|
|
Supernatural
Written by Jasmin.
86 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Female.
|
Post by Natalia Harper on Oct 19, 2016 18:27:14 GMT
The thought crossed Natalia's mind of whether this was a one off case. Would there be more grief for the town to face from another rogue werewolf attack? She could only hope that it was a one time thing and would never occur again. There was something though, that made her not believe in that too much, a cynical part of her that ruled her head and not believe in optimism too much. It was dangerous to think like that, to think in only negatives but it couldn't be helped, not when the situation was already awful.
Alex probably should have stayed. He was better at this type of thing. Natalia was lacking when it came to reassuring other people. Ask Rose about Natalia's help when Liam had dropped off the face of the earth. Yeah, her words of wisdom hadn't been greatly appreciated. She tried though, so there was that at least, When had she become such a tryhard? It surely hadn't happened when she was in highschool which probably would have been helpful and encouraged her to go to college. Then she would have never gone travelling, never would have gotten bitten and never would have felt so scared. That's all she was most of the time. Sad and regretful. This however was something she didn't want to regret, this time with Sam. She had to try and ease some of his pain even if she had no idea as to how.
It felt wrong, in such a moment of sadness and dark to feel her heart flutter when his hand covered her own but she couldn't help it. Eyes meeting his, she offered him a soft smile, knowing any kind of smile from her usually made him smile in some sense and maybe today it would help his become less sad. His hand moving away, Natalia dropped her own, pressing her lips together as she glanced towards the open day where she could hear them quite clearly talking about what to do. Damn werewolf senses.
When he spoke, Natalia started nodding immediately. Sometimes she swore he knew or he could at least tell that she was more affected by certain things than she should have been. "Lets go." She said decisively, stepping off the porch and waiting for him to join her, wanting to distance herself from the main house as quickly as she possibly could.
|
|
Hunters
Written by Megan.
147 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Male.
|
Post by Samuel Styles on Apr 21, 2022 22:56:12 GMT
It was like magic, like a spell. The moment she graced him with the tiniest of smiles, he couldn’t help but curl his lips upwards in return. It was sad and pathetic looking, of course, but that one little lift of her mouth had a bit of the weight lifting off of his shoulders. Sam couldn’t fathom how she managed to get so much control over him–at this point, it felt silly to keep blaming it on a crush he had in high school. He knew it was love, after so long there was nothing else to call it, and the time they’ve been spending together recently hasn’t made it any easier to cope with. Sam loved her. The way she held herself in confidence. The way she always stood strong in the wake of a storm. The way her smiles made his stomach twist–how he was one of the few lucky enough to be graced with such a beautiful thing. The way her hair smelled and the way her voice sounded when he called too early and the way she made time for him now when he hadn’t been a blip on her radar before. He loved her and was stupid for thinking he could ever fill the Natalia shaped hole in his chest with anyone else. As miserable as he was, as guilty and drowned in sorrow, he smiled back at her before nodding towards the guest house.
Without putting too much thought in the action and working himself up further, he wiped the tears from his eyes before placing his hand at the small of her back to guide him. If she didn’t want it there, she would tell him. Leading her off the porch and away from the raised voices echoing in the Style’s meeting room, he couldn’t help but say again, “Thank you.” He paused, looking down at her with teary eyes and a wobbly smile, “It really means a lot that you came over so late. She just–Bobbi was important to me and I let her down in a lot of ways. I can’t–you know, I can’t go back and fix anything. She’s gone and I never got to fix it.” Their break-up was amicable, he was going to college and she was staying here to join the police force and they both knew it wasn’t meant to be. He hadn’t talked to her since, not even when he’d come home–too ashamed to face her. They were each other’s first everything, but he hadn’t been able to keep Natalia off his heart in the two years he had dated Bobbi. He felt so guilty, like he used her, but that wasn’t the case. He loved her, just not completely. He didn’t think that made it better.
The guest house wasn’t far from the porch, so they made it there in only a few moments. As he dropped his hand from her back to fiddle with his keys, he explained, “I sent Gen home. With the attack and not knowing if it was isolated, I didn’t want to risk anything.” Shoving the key in and unlocking the door, he held the door open and nodded towards the living room, signaling her to head in. Memories flooded his mind then, recalling when she’d been drunk and crying and he’d spent the night chatting with her until she passed out on him. How the tables have turned.
The interior of the guest house was what his mother liked to call modern rustic, white walls with accents of wood and stone. Luxury, but not so obnoxiously so–not like the main house. Sam hadn’t redecorated it, knowing his stay was only temporary, but with this turn of events, he was considering taking a gap year before law school to focus on this hunt. Everyone he loved was in Beacon Hills, he couldn’t just leave now that danger was at their doorsteps. Closing the door behind them, he gestured for her to take a seat on one of the couches while he headed to the kitchen area to get them each a glass of water. The layout was open, allowing him to meekly meet her eyes as he poured the glasses. “You know,” he started, dropping his gaze as he watched the water fill the clear cup, “Gen was just a friend.” He didn’t know why he was saying this now of all times, but being in here where he’d lived with Gen for a summer, it just came out. He still felt guilty for making something so big out of so little back at the cafe that day–he’d just been trying to make her jealous, but wanted to clear the air. “She kissed me once, but we were drunk and I didn’t let anything more happen. She, uh, I just couldn’t,” he said with a shrug, absolutely not able to explain why he couldn’t. He moved around the counter and took a seat across from Nat on a separate couch, handing her the glass before settling down. He gripped the glass with both hands, eyes trained on the trembling liquid as he changed the topic again.
“What are we going to do if it happens again, Nat?” Sam paused, just briefly, as his brain began to twist out his thoughts, “That means it’s a pack.” And what do they do then? It’s been so long since a rogue pack has been in Beacon Hills. It could cause problems with the peaceful packs, even. It would be war.
|
|
Supernatural
Written by Jasmin.
86 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Female.
|
Post by Natalia Harper on Jul 19, 2022 18:52:28 GMT
The news had Natalia’s eyebrows raising. Gone was the girl she’d thought would get in her way. Sent home to protect her from the big bad wolves. Like her. Natalia stepped inside the open door easily, eyes flitting over the space and desperately working to keep memories of her drunken night at bay. She’d drank an ungodly amount that night to be in the state she was in. At least one good thing came of that night. Sam. Back in her life. Or more like in her life when he never really had been before.
Nat stayed silent as she settled onto the couch, one arm draped over the armrest whilst her spare hand stroked the soft material of the blanket casually draped over the back of the couch.
You know...
Natalia’s eyes flicked up from where they’d been focused on a fairly blank wall at the words because no, these days Natalia knew nothing at all. Friend. Natalia tipped her head to the side, gaze blank as Sam busied himself with sorting waters for them. Stalling. Avoiding her gaze. The next words had Nat’s relaxed posture tensing, hand moving from the blanket to rest on her lap, fingers flexing on their own accord. “Couldn’t,” Natalia got out, mind honing in on that one word. Focusing on it as her fingers stilled, finding slim peace with that word. No matter how vague it was. “I’m sure she loved that explanation,” she added, voice typically cool for her but unfairly harsh for what he was going through. Taking a steeling breath as Sam approached and handed her the glass. The cool material was a relief as she took it and wrapped both hands firmly around its curved sides. “How did she compare to the other Stanford cuties?” There was a tease there in her voice, only noticeable to those who could read her moods and shifts in tone but that stupid conversation they’d had in the café, riling one another up, had imprinted itself on Nat’s mind for months. Taking a sip of her water, Natalia had to add, “don’t answer that,” because she didn’t want to know. Actually, she did. More to know how jealous she could allow herself to feel than anything else. Jealousy was far from useful. If she wanted to continue to hide the truth from Sam about who – or rather, what – she really was then she needed to stay calm. Think happy thoughts or some other trivial shit that Rose would spew at her.
Calm was not what Sam’s next train of thought led to. No, that had her inside squeezing tight, anxiety pooling in the pit of her stomach. Alex, Rose, Evans, Sam. They’d all be in danger if there was a pack on the streets who didn’t care who they attacked or where or when. A pack who preyed on the town’s innocent and unaware civilians was lethal. It was the kind of news that could only be covered for so long before people started questioning what was really going on. That was when Natalia would have to go running. The situation with her parents was improving. They hadn’t killed her which was a huge win, or kicked her out so long as she stayed in control. All Natalia needed was for her parents to remember just how deadly and vicious werewolves could be for them to turn the knife on her. Whatever this situation was, it needed to be dealt with quickly and with as minimal blood loss as possible.
“Well, the Gold Pack are all but gone so we can assume it’s not them. Then there’s the Mets family but,” Natalia’s eyes couldn’t look towards Sam as she mentioned them. What the Harper and King families had done with them when Nat’s parents were still children made her feel sick to her stomach. Natalia knew Rose thought she was being slick swiping vials of wolfsbane and returning with baked goods from Sal’s but the pattern had been too easy to detect. Natalia had to investigate what her sister – who, by and large, tolerated being a hunter – was up to. Sabrina Mets. The eldest daughter in the Mets family. Alone and at risk from spiralling out of control, particularly on full moons. Rose was helping her, for whatever reason. They weren’t friends. How could they be? Rose had been spared most of the details about what went on all those decades ago. Details on how the Mets pack was splintered, forever causing a rift between family members that would inevitably cause continuous turmoil amongst their bloodline. No alpha in Beacon Hills. No sense of love from Sabrina’s parents because of it all. But they were weaker now and that’s all that had mattered back then. Let alone the fact that people like Sabrina were still reeling from the impacts. “But they’re not organised enough for that sort of thing,” then again, Natalia had to wonder what had suddenly caused Sabrina to act out and to lose control. It was as if she’d lost her pack. But who... Nat had no idea. rolling her neck from shoulder to shoulder, Natalia managed to level her focus back on Sam. “I hate the hunt but this time, it feels different. My family have been lacking a little in keeping up with our training,” because of her and because they were trying to be different. What if that got them hurt? A sigh escaped her before she could stop it, “we all need to get back in shape and back to work because if this is a pack, we’re not ready.” It hurt to admit, to acknowledge that she had a weakness in any capacity. Alex was the only person she’d ever felt she could be truly open and vulnerable but Sam, Sam was getting to her.
“No distractions,” the words were quiet, rippling out from her like a single small leaf falling into a large lake. The leaf made little impact on the water body save for the section it landed on. There, there, there was a hurt, a blow, an acknowledgement of its existence. Gen was gone and so was Sam’s distraction but what could Natalia do when Sam was hers? When she knew that whatever and whoever was behind this would only drive her to spend more and more time around him. The words, then, were a warning to herself to stay focused and to stay on track with solving who was behind Bobbi’s murder.
|
|
Hunters
Written by Megan.
147 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Male.
|
Post by Samuel Styles on Jul 20, 2022 18:06:08 GMT
Sam wasn’t quite sure what kind of reaction he had been expecting from Natalia when he cleared the air and explained that Genevieve was nothing more than a friend, but this wasn’t it. He spared her a glance through his bangs, his head tipped down to hide the flush of his cheeks as his brunette waves tumbled from where he’d tried to push them behind his ear—his hair not quite long enough yet to be secured. Couldn’t. The word echoed in his mind, the bitter note of it on her tongue causing his fingers to tighten on his cool glass. No, he couldn’t be with Gen, or anyone else for that matter. Not when Natalia was right here. Not when she owned a piece of him and he could never be whole with someone else. She seemed upset in a way he wasn’t familiar with. Not angry and not quite jealous, but passive. As if her mind was elsewhere and she had to force out some kind of snarky comment. But maybe that was wrong too. Sam didn’t know much anymore. Bobbi was dead and Gen was gone and Natalia was sat across from him in his home. He would have never predicted a world like this a year ago, but this is how it is now and he had to adjust and do that quickly. Teddy was on his way home from a hunt he’d been on in Nevada and Noelle was on standby at UCLA where she was set to start classes in only a few weeks. Every hunter in his father’s address book was being beckoned to Beacon Hills, this lone attack so terrifying that John Styles was already calling in the big guns. He knew better. He knew this was only the beginning to something more. Sam prayed he was wrong.
The bite in her words had him suppressing a wince, instead straightening out of his hunch to his full height. He tried to project confidence, but knew there was pink to his cheeks and a sheepish curl to his nervous smile. His eyes, still rimmed with tears, searched hers, trying to understand why she would say something like that at a time like this. He supposed it was his own fault. Last year at the cafe, he’d flaunted his prowess with the girls at Stanford to get a rise out of her. It was biting him in the ass now. Though, it wasn’t a lie, unfortunately. Sam couldn’t settle down and had flitted through a variety of women—which sounds awful, but most of them still sought him out for study dates and coffee. Sam was a good guy. Sam was too good of a guy. He couldn’t entertain their flirty smiles and lingering touches the way he wanted because he couldn’t love them the way they deserved. He was hung on Natalia, her pretty nails dug into the skin of his chest and holding him back. This couldn’t go on forever. Eventually he’d have to give in. Take the plunge and tell her or leave Beacon Hills for good. Neither sounded appealing.
She told him not to answer her, but Sam couldn’t let the conversation end like that. Taking a small sip to soothe the ache in his throat—the tenderness from crying and the swelling from terse emotions—before setting it on the short coffee table between them. Smoothing his hands down his pants to wipe off the condensation, he met her eye and assured, “She wasn’t happy, but this was better than leading her on.” She didn’t take it well, having wanted more from Sam than he could offer, but had left with her head held high and told him that she appreciated his honesty once she had simmered down. Too often girls were led on and broken down by childish boys. Sam couldn’t do that. And against his better judgment, he couldn’t help but feel the need to justify, “I know who I want and I can’t be with someone else.” He shrugged, knowing he said too much, and he absolutely would not clarify and he was done with this part of their conversation. He was blushing and forcing his gaze down to his abandoned glass of water as he pressed the pads of his fingers against his jeans. “Plus,” he sighed, concluding his train of thought, “After all of this, you know, I’ve accepted that normal just isn’t in the books for me. I’ve tried so hard to distance myself from hunting and killing and it’s just—this world will never let me go. I won’t bring someone else into this.” He looked up at Natalia then, saying with his eyes what he knew he didn’t have the strength to voice. The girl he loved already was a part of his world. The girl he loved would never compare to the Stanford Cuties or anyone else for that matter.
But he stayed silent, watching her with his lips in a wry smile and hands curled into fists. He couldn’t take this line of conversation anymore and was thankful she had added to his previous question. This was better. Vengeance was much easier to talk about.
He soaked in her wealth of information with interest, leaning forward to reach past his glass to grab a pad of paper and a pen he had abandoned days before. He wrote as she spoke, making notes about the Gold Pack and the Mets. He was familiar with both, though vaguely. He had helped his dad keep tabs on them for a while as a teenager but had shown disinterest in what felt like stalking the older he got. His pen paused, hovering over the lined page as his eyes rose to her face. She hated the hunt? He had never expected those words to grace her lips. Natalia had been brute and brawn and brilliant his whole life. She was the perfect huntress, she had lived for it. He wondered what had changed, the question on the tip of his tongue but he knew to hold back. Natalia wouldn’t answer. She would tell him on her own time. He knew better than to push too hard and have her close herself off to his prying. Alex would be easier to get the answer from, but Sam wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t go behind her back. Instead, he dropped his hands back to his lap, holding on to the pen and paper as he mulled over her words. They weren’t ready. No distractions. He studied her for a moment longer, eyes tracing the slope of her nose and the curve of her lips before meeting her gaze once more.
“There may be an alpha in Beacon Hills,” he found himself saying, pausing as he tried to weigh the pros and cons of divulging such secret information to Natalia. It was easy to decide she was worth the risk. “I mean, not just this rogue one, obviously, but a passive one. We aren’t sure, but it’s safe to say that there’s actually another docile pack here. Benny Pines was arrested a few times while my dad was still sheriff for public indecency. He’s a werewolf but has never caused any harm so my dad just kept him under watch,” which was unlike him to keep anything he deemed a monster alive, but Sam hadn’t pressed at the risk of changing his father’s mind, “He’s not an alpha and we haven’t caught any other werewolves around him, but my dad thinks he may be purebred and that it’s a family affair. We did some digging earlier today—there’s a lot of kids who live in the house, not just his son. It’s likely that they’re a pack, but we don’t know who the alpha is. I think the Mets girl may be with them. Noelle was on the call and said that she remembers her and the Pines kids being close.” He tapped his fingers on the notebook, giving her a moment to process this new information before adding, “They’re not a threat, but maybe we could team up with them? My dad would turn the idea down, but I—I don’t like hunting either, Nat. I can’t stand it and maybe if we had better insight on pack mentality and their strength, maybe we would have a chance at solving this without innocents dying.”
He bit his lip, amending, “Innocents on both sides.” Noelle flashed in his mind. She’s never hurt a fly, but if his father knew what his daughter had been turned into, he had no doubt that John would cleanse her of this devil without hesitation. “Just because they’re supernatural, it doesn’t make them a monster,” he sighed, dropping what he was holding to rest on his lap as he braced his elbows on his thighs and buried his fingers in his hair—eyes squeezed shut and face hidden. He hated this. All he’d wanted was to run off to be something better than a murderer, but here he was—roped right back in and aiming the gun. The turmoil and the guilt and the remorse were eating at him. It was too much at once and Sam wasn't sure how to handle it.
|
|
Supernatural
Written by Jasmin.
86 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Female.
|
Post by Natalia Harper on Jul 22, 2022 20:48:30 GMT
There was no point in most people trying to understand Natalia’s motives and decisions on what she said. Most often they were entirely self-serving, meant to display someone else’s weakness or to get a rise out of them that she would pocket for later. They rarely gave a true insight into how she was actually feeling. Her words were weapons, fine-tuned and laced with just the right amount of poison to be stinging when she needed them to be. Seldom sweet and even rarer for them to be loving. She could joke with Evans easily but would she tell the other girl how much she valued their friendship? No, don’t be ridiculous. Nat would take a bullet for her brother and sister but she’d never tell them. Those sorts of verbal confirmations made her vulnerable. She’d always been strong and fearless, never one to back down from a fight. She couldn’t start losing that reputation now. Even if it became harder and harder to ignore the effect her words hard on people as their heart dropped or their scent shifted. Like now, as Sam sat up straight she could sense how her flippancy towards the current situation grated on him.
Nat wasn’t sure if she’d ever rushed to apologise for something she’d said. People who knew her knew to expect her frankness and arguably, lack of care, so they wouldn’t expect apologies. Someone like Sam on the other hand... Nat met his eyes, blinking her lashes back up to his but he wouldn’t find the answers for why in the greens of her pupils. Her lower eyelids rose, squinting ever so as he did, in fact, explain his decision with Gen further. Much to Nat’s internal frustration. Natalia kept her very being as still as possible at what came next. He knew who he wanted. Since Nat and never received much indication from him that that was her, at least not now they’d grown up, it just added another mystery girl for her to silently torture in her mind. Their mildly jealous conversation in the café hadn’t meant anything. They hadn’t seen each other for months, both thinking one had been ignoring the other. They’d been snippy. That didn’t mean he was into her. Hell, she couldn’t really talk, she’d gone on a date with some random just last week to convince herself that she still could. That she was capable of consuming her thoughts and longing with someone else. It hadn’t worked and when he’d gone to give her a kiss as they left the bar she’d just turned on her heel and walked away, not even bothering to lie and say she’d call him. Some blonde this time? Or is it a little red-head? The words bubbled up, ready to pounce but for this once and only because she couldn’t handle him if he started to cry, she kept her lips shut. She was grateful for her restraint when he looked at her again and for a moment there was doubt in her mind. What if it was her? What if no matter how much of a bitch she could be, he’d seen past it? No, couldn’t be. Actually, fuck, Natalia, no it could be and with most people she’d waltz right up to them and bat her eyes, casting them under her spell with one single interaction, but Sam had become a good friend. For once, she wouldn’t risk it until she was more certain. He was not worth taking a gamble on.
Any feelings she had she held close to her heart, not letting them surface through her eyes and give the game away. Ice Queen the boys at school used to call her as they all took a stab at breaking through her cool interior, eager to show that one of them could have Natalia Harper eating out of the palm of their hand. It was always the other way around. They’d trail after her for the few days she let them before she grew bored and kicked them to curb. No one had ever lasted more than a few months. No one held her attention for long enough to keep her intrigued. She and Alex both had heartbreaker reputations following them around. Somehow Rose had avoided the shadows that her older siblings cast over love, instead, she seemed to be in the opposite boat and Natalia didn’t know how to advise dealing with a broken heart. Jealousy she could handle, she could carve it into something powerful. Loss and longing were not her strong suits. Although longing... that was a sentiment Natalia was beginning to understand.
But, not now.
She kept her flow of words going as Sam took notes, not really seeing much worth in what she was offering. They were only dead ends. She should have slowed down with what she was saying, too caught up in thoughts of longing and wanting the very man sat in front of her to catch herself from revealing such a fact about herself. It was clear, as he looked at her, that he’d not expected her to say that and that was a fair assumption. She’d always been first to jump on a hunt before she left to go travelling. Eager to be the one to connect the dots and assess the best way to pin whatever creature they were tracking down. She’d made the killing blow a few times. When she’d come back to Beacon Hills she’d added to that list, spending weekends away as her body adapted and changed to the shift. That had been before Alex and Rose found out. Something had shifted after, their sudden consideration that someone would just as easily hunt their own sister casting a wave of doubt over their actions. A decision that was biting them in the ass right now.
It was not the time to think about her own shortcomings. Not when there was the potential for a pack running around. Or, rather, two as she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees to focus on what Sam was saying. She had to imagine that Alex was getting a similar rundown in the main house. Pines. Natalia rifled through her brain as if she were physically in a library’s basement, pulling open cabinets and flipping through books until she found one mention of the name. And, oh, there it was. With Rose, again. Her sister seemed to have more friends who were supernatural than human much to Natalia’s building despair. Rose’s little friend Iris was a regular in their house, the two girls normally talking at rapid speed about Iris’s boyfriend who Rose had excitedly shown her one day “Iris is dating this guy who she’s known since they were little kids, he’s called Jensen Pines and he’s so cute, you wouldn’t believe it...” she’d then prattled on for another two minutes as she’d swiped through his Instagram no matter how much Natalia told her she didn’t care. Her sister had carried on explaining the whole situation until Natalia was shutting her bedroom door in her face and even then, she’d kept talking for half a minute before aggressively groaning and walking off.
So, Iris was potentially two for two on the werewolf front. Natalia had to assume that Rose had no idea as it would have come out already. Face pulling into a frown, Natalia assessed the room around, mulling over the information Sam was providing.
Eyes cast over the darkened windows, her assessment of the space ended promptly, chin snapping back toward Sam at his announcement. “Two hunters who don’t like hunting, sounds like the start of a bad joke,” Nat got out, tone dry but mind reeling at the thought. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, not when Sam had already escaped Beacon Hills before and was doing everything in his power to create a career outside of the field they were born into. The empathy in Sam’s words had Nat’s features softening, lips parting opening a little as he proclaimed that those who were supernatural could be innocent. A fact which had led to Nat’s mother and aunt falling out over twenty years ago. It seemed an opinion that was impossible to run away from. Especially now when she was in the firing line. It was selfish, to only care now about the lives of those she and her family hunted because it could one day be her, but Nat had always been a star pupil, doing whatever she could for her parent’s approval as she continuously improved her skills. It was how she thought she had to be loved. Despite it all and what she had become, miraculously, she still felt some of that love. Still, if she could run away from it, even from the part of her that now shifted and changed like the tide with the moon, she would.
They were mirror images for a moment, both of the heads held up by their arms, Natalia with her hands holding her jaw as her face flashed with momentary panic as Sam buried his face in his hands. Empathy wasn’t her strong suit. It wasn’t natural to her to care and react in a physical way to someone else in distress. But Sam, as much as she could go on a date with some random to deny it, wasn’t just someone. He’d started to mean something to her, rooting his way into the depths of her heart, however small and covered in a thick layer of ice it was. Her movements were quiet as she stood up, placing her glass down on the coffee table and crossing the distance to sit beside him. She didn’t reach out to touch him, just quietly settled herself into the space beside him, giving him a moment of silence.
If Rose were here she would have jumped immediately into conversation, reassuring Sam that all would be okay and that they’d all do it together so hey, it wasn’t really that bad. Alex at the very least would have wrapped an arm around Sam and probably said something mildly amusing to momentarily distract him. Nat’s tactic was silence, companionable kinship of two people who found themselves back in the spot life of a life neither wanted. After a while, Sam turned, looking up at Nat who let out a low breath, chest rising and falling as her eyes expressed how sorry she was that he was back here. That he’d lost his friend. That she was the comfort and care he was left with after it all.
“Here,” she said as she carefully pulled the pen and paper off of his lap, tucking her legs up beneath her so that she could write more easily. “Rose knows Sabrina,” Nat spoke as she wrote, explaining what her jotted down names and arrows meant, “she’s the Mets girl but as far as I know, they haven’t been friendly with each other for that long. Rose seems to be giving her wolfsbane, I assume to help her control during full moons but the odd thing is, they’ve gone to the same schools since they were kids and Rose never made this effort with her before. It’s as if Sabrina lost control over night. That only really happens with full blooded werewolves when they’ve lost their pack and Rose continues to pinch wolfsbane from the armoury so I’m not sure if Sabrina is with them anymore.” Natalia made that point clear by drawing a big question mark next to Sabrina’s name before writing down Jensen Pines, “this one,” she continued, tapping a manicured fingernail against the page, “is dating Rose’s best friend, I assume this is one of the family members,” at Sam’s confirmation, Natalia nodded to herself. “If he’s a werewolf, I don’t think Rose knows so it seems they’re a pretty private pack,” which was just confirming Sam’s own insight onto them being passive but at least this way they could sift through their list of suspects. Drawing a dotted line between Sabrina and Jensen’s names, Nat loosed a breath, pulling up blanks for alternative names in her mind. “If they’re private like that they won’t want to help, not unless one of them gets hurt. As a pack, they know they’re safest staying hidden in a town like this. If we go knocking on their door, we will get nowhere, Sam.” If the Pines Pack started to show their face it was more likely that hunters who were currently being riled up by Sam’s dad would put a bullet in their heads before they could prove their innocence or show that they were there to help. “We need a solid plan before we go to them, if Benny Pines isn’t the alpha and it’s one of the kids then...” Natalia’s eyes shuttered close, disbelief wracking through her at the thought of a band of werewolves being led by some hormonal, moody teenager. “Then we need them to know that we’re the ones in charge.” The emphasis on that final we was slight, Natalia’s tone fearless as she said it. She was no stranger to leadership positions and to getting others to fall in line. She’d do it again. Especially with people who were her baby sister’s age at risk.
Placing the pen and paper to the side, Natalia turned to Sam, finally reaching out as she placed one of her hands on top of his where it had fallen back onto his lap. Giving it a gentle squeeze, she stayed quiet letting him think it through. In her silence her mind filled with images of her brother and sister leading the charge. Of Sam there with them all. Her fingers tightened just a little, the only sign of fear she would show to the world over that possibility.
|
|
Hunters
Written by Megan.
147 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Male.
|
Post by Samuel Styles on Jul 26, 2022 2:05:29 GMT
What would happen if he just said it, Sam wondered. What would happen if he puffed out his chest and met her gaze head on and just said it? I love you, Natalia. The words rested heavy on his tongue, having set up home there a long time ago and not eager to leave just yet. The darkness in her eyes kept his lips sealed, promising that his what if’s wouldn’t have the dreamy, happy ending he was concocting if he dared to speak them now. He’d just confessed to kissing another girl and had spilled tears over his first girlfriend’s death. Now wasn’t the time to clue Natalia in on the hold she had on his heart, but as each moment flickered past them, he feared that there never would be a right time. Would he die before he told her? Would he die in these coming weeks as he threw himself back into the hunt he’d fought so hard to leave behind? It was a dark train of thought, one that had plagued him on and off for years. Sam didn’t want to die as much as he didn’t want to kill, but in this life, there was no other option. Kill or be killed. It wasn’t fair, but it never was. He lifted his head from his hands, studying Natalia as he mimicked her pose—a wry smile twisting the pitiful line his lips had curled into at her comment. Yeah, all of this did feel like the set-up for a shitty joke, but that seemed to be about on par for his life. All they needed was to be sat at a bar with a werewolf walking through the door, that would be the punchline, surely. It was moments like this, though, that reminded Sam that life wasn’t so black and white. He couldn’t predict the next turn, couldn’t foresee what his future held. This predicament had come from left field, not only with the death and the loss, but with Natalia attempting a joke and suddenly rising from her seat and making her way around the coffee table his mother had spent two days rifling through catalogs to find. His eyes followed her movements, pushing his shoulders back and raising, once again, from where he’d found himself bent over his knees. His posture had always been hit or miss, often making himself as small as possible to soothe others. It didn’t matter how kind his smile was, the moment someone looked up, up, up to meet his eyes, they were intimidated.
But not Natalia. Never Natalia.
His eyes were narrowed ever so slightly with interest, trying to understand her motives. It wasn’t like her to encroach on another’s space, to offer a moment of silence or try to comfort. He knew that when he’d asked her over. He knew just who and what he was getting when she picked up his call and that was enough for him. She was enough. Maybe she felt bad for her tone or maybe for her words, but it wasn't like Natalia to ever bother herself with guilt. He hadn’t taken it to heart. While it stung, he knew that it was his own actions that had driven her to come to that conclusion. He’d built himself up to be something he certainly wasn’t and that’s his own fault. It must mean something that she was holding onto that one conversation, but what? He had no clue. For all of his intelligence and his newly minted bachelor’s degree, he could be pretty dense when it came to things as fickle as love and women.
Sam let his gaze find hers then, having been studying her posture with uncertainty. He wasn’t ready to find sympathy there. He found himself leaning back minutely, his eyebrows meeting over the bridge of his nose before his face smoothed and softened. A small smile teetered on his mouth as he realized she was trying. For him, she was trying. His heart thumped hard in his chest as he hoped to relay back with his gaze that he was grateful for her. He watched her with interest as she plucked the notebook from his lap and began to make notations to what he’d written down. He leaned over, eyes tracing her handwriting as he soaked in this new information—pushing his feelings to the side for the moment as the seriousness of what they were up against settled upon his shoulders once more. It was a vicious back and forth, neither a topic he was too eager to delve into, but he knew they both needed to be handled. Though one much sooner than the other.
It was odd that Rose would be swiping wolfsbane for Sabrina. It could only mean one of two things—for drinking or for full moon assistance. Sam nibbled on his bottom lip as he mulled over the new information. He decided that if she wasn’t a part of the Pines pack, Rose’s thievery may align with when the Gold’s fled Beacon Hills, but they would need to confront the youngest Harper to confirm the timeline. He benched that thought and tilted his head curiously at the name she wrote down. Jensen. The name sounded familiar, but more than him just being Benny Pines’ son. He remembers his dad mentioning a few years back that the werewolf had a son, mumbling something about how the teenager had come to pick him up from the Sheriff’s Office just before he’d retired. He’d been appalled that such a well-mannered boy had to deal with something so heartbreaking—and Sam had rolled his eyes because, well, it was horribly ironic. John hadn’t been a gentle father and Sam had a long scar along the outside of his arm to prove it. That night still haunted Sam, the lengthy white line along his skin aching at the memory of the hate in his father’s eyes as he’d cursed his name—at the horror that had crossed them as the shattering of glass broke him from his drunken stupor. Sam’s blood never did make it out of that rug, his mother buying a new one after rolling up the stained carpet and tossing it. As if that erased what he’d done. As if Sam couldn’t still see the misery he’d spilled onto that floor. His dad had no room to criticize a drunk father traumatizing his son. That’s when it struck him. He’d met Jensen. After that night, before he’d gone back to Stanford after winter break, he’d sought out the boy. It was such a fleeting moment, catching the young teen—no older than sixteen then—at the cafe in town. He’d artfully bumped into him, reaching out to still him and caught his eye. He couldn’t remember what all he’d said, but it had surely come off ominous and strange to the boy who had no idea who he was. Sam had told him that he’d be okay, he knew that much. He laughed under his breath at the memory, shaking his head as he leaned forward an inch more to refocus on what Natalia was saying.
Jensen was dating Iris who was Rose’s best friend. Jensen who may or may not have a connection to Sabrina based on Noelle’s insight, but it isn’t likely they are in touch anymore. Jensen who could potentially be the alpha, but then again, that didn’t add up either. If it was inherited, unless it was passed down from his mother who they had no information on, it couldn’t be him. He sighed, nodding along with the rest of what Natalia said and of course it made sense. They couldn’t just go ask the Pines for help. They would deny up and down about their nature and if provoked, they could attack and that was the last thing they wanted. They needed a plan if they were going to ask for their help on this but asking a pack of potentially young wolves seemed inappropriate and more of a risk than it was worth. Especially with the alpha almost certainly being a teenager with the demographic they knew of so far.
Sam smiled as the we of this idea, still not quite used to being included in Natalia Harper’s affairs. He liked the ring of it.
Before he could speak, his lips were caught around a soft circle shape, the soft blue-hazel hues of his irises caught on the shape of her hand curved atop his. Oh. Oh, wow. His cheeks warmed at the touch, her warmth overwhelming despite him so often being the one to run hot. As her fingers curled tighter over his own, he looked up to read her expression. Her eyes were downcast, and perhaps it was only because he couldn’t see what her thoughts held through those heavily guarded orbs that he had the strength to act on his urges. There was just the barest moment of hesitancy, his hand shifting beneath hers before he steeled himself and swallowed down his nerves. Sam stole both his hands away from beneath Natalia's, not allowing her the chance to protest as he wove his arms around her slender frame and pulled her into the warmth of his chest. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised, one hand resting upon the middle of her back while the other smoothed down her soft hair as he tucked her face closer to the crook of his neck. His voice was deep and husky, but confident. For once he was able to be around Natalia who he was around others. Still soft and docile, but sure of himself and what he was doing. Sam liked to believe that he was becoming an expert in Natalia quite slowly. When she hadn’t met his eye, it was a waver that he wasn’t used to seeing. This was getting to her too. Not Bobbi, but what her death promised. More. More pain and loss. Natalia didn’t outwardly show she cared for others, but he knew she did. Rose and Alex. Her parents and grandparents. Maybe even Sam himself. They were all at risk, but her siblings more than anyone. They were in the firing line; they were the ones actively seeking out this danger. He understood the sentiment. When was the last time Natalia was hugged? When was the last time she’d been comforted? She looked lost tonight, and if for nothing else, at the very least if she got upset with him overstepping a boundary, she would have heat in hazel pools instead of a somber darkness. And, well maybe, she would appreciate this boldness on his end. A nice change. Him stepping up and pushing his own sorrows aside to meet her in the middle. That would mean something, right? A foolishly crushing boy could only hope.
Sam pulled back then, pushing her back from him just enough to catch her eyes—his hands sturdy on her upper arms as he smiled down at her. He didn’t want to push his limit, but god, he really hadn’t wanted to let go of her. Baby steps. He didn’t want to get punched right now.
“We need to do recon first,” he said in a way to distract her from the hold he had on her, trying to get back on track, “Figure out who’s in the pack and who the alpha is. I think having a pack on our side will be handier than an army of hunters—but it’ll be one hell of a feat.” He’s never worked with a werewolf before. Noelle, yes, but that was different. She was blood. He sighed, breaking eye contact as he stared at where his left hand held her arm gently. “We can do it, though. We can find a way to get this pack without killing more than we need to,” Sam assured, gaze flickering up to meet hers after a beat, “You and me,” he caught himself, floundering for a moment before adding, “And Alex would make one hell of a team.” He coughed, clearing his throat as he dropped his hands back to his lap, but didn't shy away from her gaze.
"I think you're right about Sabrina being abandoned, though. Benny has been arrested for intoxication meaning he—and presumably his pack—have access to their own wolfsbane so Sabrina wouldn't have to risk seeking out a hunter for her own stash," he offered, rambling as he was prone to do once he got into the zone. This is why his dad needed him so badly. He was the brains of the operation, putting things together that other hunters wouldn't even consider, as well as being one hell of a hunter in the field. Sam didn't like to kill, but he was incredible at it. He didn't do anything half-assed. "Or perhaps they've lost access to their source and are using her to get more because she's the most unassuming," he paused, worrying his lip as he thought it over before asking, "The Mets. Do you know more about them? My family never dealt with them. Dad said another hunter had them covered. Would she be getting wolfsbane potentially for her family? Say she had a falling out with the Pines, or hell, maybe she was never a part of the Pines and was with the Gold's and was left behind. Maybe she's getting wolfsbane from Rose for her family because the pack they, or maybe she alone, had been a part of stopped supplying?" If they knew the reason behind why she was so desperate to get her hands on it, then maybe they'd have a better understanding of what they were up against. "Because if we're going to get any insight, it'll be from her or Jensen," which was obvious, given they were the only two they could viably approach since they were the only ones possibly a part of this secretive pack.
|
|
Supernatural
Written by Jasmin.
86 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Female.
|
Post by Natalia Harper on Aug 20, 2022 21:01:21 GMT
The soft huff on Sam’s muffled breath had Natalia’s ears perking up. Had she said something funny? Was this all just stuff he knew? Was she so certain she had important information to offer that she’d misunderstood why she was here? To help. To help the hunt. To help... Sam. No, she wouldn’t let the noise rattle her, Sam was always finding things amusing that Natalia would simply rather ignore completely like Rose startling when a bee landed beside her a few weeks prior, sending both Rose and Alex colliding into the ground and whacking their heads against one another. Sam had been there, laughing whilst offering the pair a hand up. The ordeal had brought a brief smile to Nat’s face but she’d so been immersed in sunning herself with an intense romance book in her hand to pay it more mind than that. And yes, she had swapped the hardback cover so no one clocked what she was reading. “Another dull war book, Tat,” Alex had groaned, pulling his attention away from the card game he’d dragged Sam into playing with him, “why don’t you play non-alcoholic Ring of Fire with the boys, instead?” Nat had merely grabbed her towel and thrown it at her brother’s head with enough speed behind the action to have him squawking. Alex had been trying to cut back on his drinking since returning home, almost as if part of him could sense a change was just around the corner, he’d decided that the best cure was playing drinking games with lemonade, orange juice, even bloody espresso shots, until he got over his crutch. Despite her continual protests, Nat stepped in to play a round when Rose tapped out, claiming a tummy ache from too much apple juice although Natalia’s ears picked up on her younger sister’s happy voice as the girl darted inside, phone to her ear with Leon’s voice sounding out from the other side.
Nat sighed along with Sam. There was no immediate easy solution which was quite possibly one of Natalia’s least favourite things. The smile that lit up some of the dark shadows of Sam’s sculpted face was the opposite. One of her favourites. Her eyes warmed at the twist of his lips, softening down to a mellow field of luscious green grass as she tried to not focus too clearly on the effect her touch had on him. The mellow green turned to a gurgling Amazonian river, reflecting the dense green bush around but wild and unable to calm below as rocks tumbled and turned at beat the sides of the river beds. The turbulent flows of her gaze were kept tucked away as image upon image washed against her mind. Rose raising a dagger only for it to be the end of her younger sister as it was snatched out of the girl’s palm by something stronger and quicker and plunged deep into her heart. Into the purest part of her. Of Alex with his bow and arrow and ability to take down targets from hundreds of yards away that he was so far beyond her line of hearing she couldn’t run to him as he screamed for help. As he died alone she had no idea save the severing of that bond in her bones that linked her inextricably to the boy. Then there was Sam. And just as her mind was painting a bloody image that had her heart beginning to crack its way into two clean pieces, his hands were gone. She didn’t have enough time to react until she was pulled into his chest the breath she’d been holding puffing out of her. Her body was rigid for a moment before relaxing an inch or so. But she couldn’t just fully let go. Whilst the torrent of that violent river was coursing its way through her mind, she hadn’t yet reached the waterfall where she could say fuck it and jump off the deep end. No, she’d cling onto a single boulder or branch for as long as she could before she fully allowed herself to give in to her desires.
The boulder was slipping. The branch was starting to crack with the weight of holding her back from the edge as he moved her hair. Years of restraint kept her back from nuzzling into the warmth of his neck, the smell of cologne and fresh soap. Her breathing slowed with his words, steadying herself and focusing on the timbre of his voice. The huskiness of it resting heavily on her heart, tucking her concerns deep away. It was alarming how easily she could trust in his words and as that alarm started to peel off, he pulled back leaving her wide-eyed and blinking as their eyes met.
His smile had her lips pressing shut, reminding herself that if he knew... if he knew then she could very well be the one he aimed the gun at. Any anxiety on her face could be put down to the wider situation. Not her. Never her own issues. They weren’t shareable. Especially not that one.
Nodding numbly along to what Sam started to say, Nat pulled on the strands of confidence and security in her mind. With each word, her gaze sharpened, back stretching out confidently as she watched his mouth part and close. Her focus didn’t slip as he looked away, she was so cautious to not react strongly to his hand on her arm because she would slip. Being a werewolf had heightened plenty. Desire not escaping that fate. We. She blinked at the word. He used it, too. They were a we. In this, at least. Right, with Alex. The absence of his warm hands had her shivering minutely, a quake running down her arms whilst she nodded. “I want it to be just the three of us. Rose is still in school, I want her out of it.” Natalia agreed, smoothing her hands across her thighs, dispelling some of the tension coiled inside of her. The sentences were clipped and short. No nonsense and non-budging. If she had to bundle Rose into the back of her car and dump her on the other side of the country to keep her out of it, she would. Hell, she’d pack Leon and Iris in too if it meant Rose would go. Even if it was hypocritical to demand that a teenage wolf pack helped them. They could heal. Rose... Natalia shook her head. Rose wouldn’t be able to bounce back from some injuries. Neither would Alex. Or Sam. Or... maybe she should force them all out of town and leave the danger to those would could at least protect themselves somewhat. But that would involve telling Sam and that was out of the question.
Tuning out her own inner turmoil with the flick of a switch, Natalia turned her full attention to Sam trying to make sense of Sabrina’s situation. With the way he could ramble, she had no choice but to stay focused, eyeing how his lips formed around what he was saying. Focus. The word was an order clanging around her mind, a single thought to cling to and brand herself with.
The Mets. Nails digging into the material of her jeans at the mention of their name from Sam’s lips. For Sabrina’s family, Natalia pressed her lips together, fighting back the bark of a laugh completely devoid of humour and light. One of shock at the very thought of them being a solid family unit these days. There was a long moment of silence, of Natalia keeping her mouth shut and working through her memories before she dared to speak or to provide any information. “The Mets,” Natalia said through a breath, pulling back further and slotting herself against the back of the couch. “They were a powerful family of werewolves when my parents were kids, before either of them got involved in the hunt. They’d lived in and around Beacon Hills for generations. Always relatively peaceful and they kept their numbers low. It was a family-only affair.” Pausing, Natalia pressed the fingers of her right hand against her head, distracting herself with their pressure. “Well, before my parents were even born, the Mets family had five children of their own, two from the daughter and three from the son, all within a short period of time. That many children, if they were all werewolves, would make the Mets near unstoppable. Whilst they’d always been small in numbers, they’d been fiercely loyal to each other, the bond was so strong that they could have been a pack of a hundred. The Harpers and Kings feared that with more numbers they’d become more reckless.” Keeping her gaze on the empty couch opposite her, Natalia hated that she knew this. That the grandmother she’d looked up to as a child had been so... evil. There was no other word for it. For going after children. “So they, uh,” she couldn’t say it out loud. She and Alex had been told when they were 16. A family history lesson it had been called. Rose escaped the lesson. She still didn’t know the ins and outs. But the twins, they could handle it, supposedly, no matter that Natalia had spent all night curled up in the bathroom, for the first time feeling truly sick to her stomach over what her family did. Alex hadn’t slept soundly for weeks. Nat blamed that so-called lesson for Alex picking up a bottle of liquor, for finding his only solace in numbing his mind to alcohol. “They dealt with it and honestly, Sam, I can hardly stomach the how’s of it myself, I don’t want to share that burden with you.” Because it was a burden. It was the heaviest truth in Natalia’s brain aside from her own werewolf abilities. “But long and short is, half the children didn’t make it, they didn’t even know if they would all turn yet or not. It was completely against the code. Most of the family fled, the Mets alpha ran off and hasn’t been heard of since. Sabrina’s mother and uncle were two of the only people who stayed. I know Sabrina’s mother was deeply troubled carrying wounds both on the surface and inside throughout her life until she met her husband, a lone wolf with limited sense of loyalty beyond her. They had their kids but they’re not around now. I think some of their kids are human but I think they’re out of the house already. The Mets that are still in town are not a pack. They’re a dysfunctional family who would sooner tear themselves apart than band together to attack the town. Sabrina seems like a smart girl. She has a job and keeps to herself. If she’s using that wolfsbane it’s either to protect herself from her out of control family or to protect the town from her. My bet is on the former.” Natalia avoided meeting Sam’s gaze and as she spoke her fingers nervously drummed against the side of her head and her leg.
“I won’t tell you why unless you want to know how my family destroyed an innocent family out of fear of what they could be.” At that she cut her eyes over to Sam, her face stoic as she fought to keep her true emotions at bay.
|
|
Hunters
Written by Megan.
147 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Male.
|
Post by Samuel Styles on Aug 23, 2022 19:54:41 GMT
With each passing second, Sam felt his heart slow and steady—falling back into its normal rhythm, a soft thump-thump-thump in his chest. Natalia hadn’t retaliated to his touch. No shoving at his long arms or warm hands. No look of disgust as he’d smoothed his palm down her arm. He blinked down at his lap for a moment, studying his fingers and wondering what was different now. For so long, he had feared reaching out for her. He’d let her walls be daunting, let their sheer size and force keep him just on the outside. When had he decided to be brave? To push past the fear and knock on that arching gate? Because there was a gate. She wasn’t all castle and moats. There was a small gate that he hadn’t looked closely enough for in the past, but now he was swimming across that murky water and banging on it for entrance. Maybe it’s opened just a crack, letting him glimpse at the luxurious interior behind those looming, guarded heights. Maybe he had already pushed past the door’s heft and thrown himself inside. He looked up at her then, the pensive look across her features just as beautiful as any other she’s worn. Maybe she’s already let him in, opening the door herself and he had been too blind with the battle of it all to see. That night. That stupid, by chance night that he’d come across her on the sidewalk with tears in her eyes had been the key, he thinks. He’d seen her weak and hadn’t treated her differently, hadn’t held her in a different light. No, he never could. Sam knew what it meant to cry, to be broken and worn down when the weight of the world rested on his shoulders alone. Everyone deserves a moment; everyone earned a break. Those cracks in her walls had been so small, but so damning and he was there to help her smooth them over and patch them up. Maybe that night she had given him a key and was just waiting for him to unlock that damn gate because she couldn’t do it herself.
Sam smiled then, small and hesitant as he curled his fingers into his palms and settled himself with a new determination. They were going to get through this. They were going to solve this case, catch this pack, and then he was going to bust through that door and let her know just how much he cared for her.
He didn’t want her to change. To become softer and let her touches linger. He didn’t want her to become someone else. He loved who she was unabashedly. Every scowl and glare, every sparse smile and twinkle in her eye.
They were going to survive this, and he’d come clean. He couldn’t afford to tell her before then, wouldn’t risk jeopardizing this mission with his emotions.
So he buckled down, dipping his head in a heavy nod, and insisting, “I wouldn’t dream of dragging her into this, Natalia.” If she chose this life, that was one thing, but he would never force someone into the hunt when he himself despised it. He out of everyone understood her concern and shared the sentiment. Even he was here reluctantly, he’d never ask her sister to join something so brutal and devastating. He could only hope that Rose listened to her sister. He’s come to know the girl through his time spent at the Harper household. She was stubborn and cunning and used to getting what she wanted out of sheer force. If she wanted in this fight, she’d find a way around Natalia and Alex. Maybe it was better to have her on their team than block her out and risk her doing something on her own. This was a fatal fight. One wrong step and she was dead. Sam didn’t voice this, eyes dropped for a moment in thought before rising to meet hers once more as she spoke.
As always, Sam was an attentive listener. He grabbed the notepad back off of his lap and made notations to what they had already written as she spoke. It… wasn’t what he had expected. Sam paused, looking her way as she continued to talk and found himself torn over this new information. Natalia seemed truly distraught over what she was saying, eyes unseeing as she stared across the room, and he shuddered. She left a lot unsaid, but his stomach still twisted at the truth of it all. Murder. Hunting monsters was one thing, but children? Innocents? Potential humans? That had his gut churning and cheeks turning green. He closed his eyes, shaking his head softly as he turned away from her. How could they? Did his dad know and still choose to associate with them? Was his family involved in some way but had buried the truth in shame instead of using it as a boastful learning lesson the way it seems the Harper’s had? Sam squeezed his fists tighter, feeling more assured in his righteous choice to abandon the hunt once Bobbi was avenged. He wasn’t built for the aftermath, for the blood caking his nailbeds and the flash of the faces of the lives he’s ended behind his closed eyelids. Sam took a steadying breath, exhaling slowly before turning back towards Natalia once more.
He reached out, not able to reason with himself that he may be well past her comfort quota and settled his hand over her anxious one—stopping her nervous tapping and beckoning her gaze upon his. He didn’t talk until she finally met his gaze, a sad smile not meeting his eyes as he slotted his fingers between her own and gave it a soft squeeze. Her hand was dwarfed by his, so small and thin and at war with the vast strength she possessed. He wanted to look down at them, to marvel over how right the hold felt, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of hers. “Nat,” he started softly, praying she could see the condolences in his hazel eyes as he dipped his head, “The last thing I want to make you do is to dig all of this back up. It’s so fucked up and I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you knowing this, but I,” he hesitated, desperately needing to cut his gaze away but he stayed firm and grounded himself by holding her hand tighter, “I think that it’s best if I know what happened so we can better approach this. We won’t have the best plan unless I have the full picture too.” And he hated saying it. The words were acidic on his tongue and there was a glistening wetness to his eyes as they welled with sorrow. He wasn’t a brutal person. His compassion filled each inch of him, swelling and swirling into a messy concoction of kindness and strength. He didn’t want her to have to repeat her family’s sins aloud, but he had to know for this hunt. If she had vital information on how to approach Sabrina, who was clearly not using the wolfsbane for her family and may be a part of the pack Benny Pines is in after all, then he had to know. It would help him figure out how to speak to the girl, help him decide who should approach her and what they would say. He knows now that it would have to be him. Rose would make the most sense, but Natalia didn’t want her involved. If Sabrina knew about what the Harper family had done to her own, she would never let Natalia or Alex close enough. He needed to know what went down because it would be him that convinced her to join his team—their team.
“And I’m sorry to make you do this, Nat,” Sam sympathized, turning more towards her and engulfing their hands with his other as well, “I really am, but if we want any chance of making this work—” He left his sentence hanging, not sure what else he could say. He knew his face was reluctant. He really didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to look at Natalia’s parents differently when he saw them in their home, but he also knew it was too late for that. Looking at Natalia now, he couldn’t forgive them for the weight of this trauma. She was truly distraught, something he didn’t think she was capable of.
Sam scooted closer then, desperately wanting to pull her back into his chest at the distance in her gaze but refrained. He didn’t want to push her or take advantage of this rare display of emotion. So instead he gave her hand another gentle squeeze, dropping his gaze to their interlocked palms to give her the privacy to collect herself and explain her family’s grotesque history.
|
|
Supernatural
Written by Jasmin.
86 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Female.
|
Post by Natalia Harper on Aug 24, 2022 22:29:55 GMT
Natalia wasn’t one to believe in fate or chances or some omnipresent figure guiding her life. Rose prattling on about star signs and angel numbers had Natalia wanting to cut her ears off to stop the incessant torrent of useless information. But. But. Sam. That night. This night. Every moment in between. That run-in in the café. Too many moments where their paths had crossed in high school, enough for Natalia to remember who he was all those years later, had Nat doubting her beliefs for one moment.
Two lines that were destined, even though the word had Natalia shuddering deep inside, to cross at multiple points until they were dragged away again. This time it felt as if the lines had been about to diverge once again with Sam supposed to return back to college and Natalia... well, she had no plan. Then Bobbi died and Natalia wouldn’t take relief in the loss of Sam’s friend but a small part of her felt it was a gift. They’d have to be stuck in the same town now. For weeks, maybe months. Working together. We. Those lines were racing toward one another and with the way Natalia couldn’t help but relax in his presence and want him to hover around in a way she didn’t with anyone else, she knew when those two lines converged – when they collided – that the damage would be irreparable. A colossal mess. Unable to pick apart. Because she wouldn’t hold back forever. She’d go after what she wanted and she hadn’t wanted anyone more than Sam despite their differences. And if it didn’t work out, Natalia wasn’t quite so sure how she’d piece herself together. Not after being so vulnerable with him. Like now. She should have ploughed ahead and acted like it was nothing.
Why did she have to have some small moral compass?
Her head tipped back as he slotted his fingers against hers pulling her eyes up to his. It helped. Fuck. The reassuring presence of his fingers against hers had her nerves diluting, brain able to focus more on the fundamental facts of it all. The steady focus of the green in his eyes reminded her that she was here. In Sam’s space. On his sofa. Next to him. She hadn’t done any of this even if it felt as if she was just as responsible. Of course. Of course he wanted to know. College boy and his search for knowledge. Natalia pulled back slightly, fingers tugging against his as she shifted further into the corner of the sofa, swallowing back the panic just as he tightened his hold of her hand. The fear. The terror that one day someone would come after her like that. After her family if she ever had one. If someone ever loved her enough to want that with her. His words were too sweet. She could see right throw them. Everything about his actions were to soothe her, to calm the beast sat beside him. The tears that threatened to pool out from his lash line, the disgust masked in his tone, each pointer that he couldn’t stomach it either was a knife. She’d feared how he’d see her as a werewolf. Maybe she should have feared how much he’d despise her if he knew who she came from.
She was cut from poison. It filed her veins. She was poison, seeping acid and darkness across Beacon Hills. Unstoppable. A virus of evil waiting to be spread. She was the worst of the Harper children. Always such a keen learner when she was younger. Always the first to try a new weapon, to break a sweat and pour blood over physical combat. She lived for it. Breathed for the satisfaction of what she was doing. Then she’d learnt just how far her family would go. That desire had snapped. She played along and found satisfaction in it where she could, like a scab which you shouldn’t scratch and pick at, but outside of it she planned her escape. Her trip around the world. A one way ticket out of Beacon Hills. For a while it had been. She’d visit briefly. Meet Alex in some distant and foreign city before parting ways again. Then Mexico had happened. She’d come back to town. Vengeance and terror fuelling her activities as she cut through and chased down any werewolf who so much as smelt wrong. She’d made many mistakes those first few months. So much pain which she’d never be able to fully unpick and work through, that she and she alone would know.
She was no better than her family. Arguably, worse. Turning her anger onto those like herself just because she needed to lash out for her own mistakes.
So, she had to bare it.
She had to tell Sam because he was right. He needed to know who they could have on their side.
The pressure from his hands over hers committed her to her decision. She’d tell him. She couldn’t keep lashing out for mistakes and making decisions worse. Not when lives were at risk. He’d never dream of making her speak if it wasn’t important. This was for the benefit of both of them. For all of the town.
Hip to hip, Natalia took a deep breath, the one hand she still had free flexing as she figured out what to say or how to start. “All of the adult Mets were werewolves. My grandparents were suspicious that with a gene that strong and prevalent, all of the children would be as well. Once the youngest child was ten, they took action. Lucky for my grandparents, a lunar eclipse was coming. They knew that to get to the children, the rest of the pack had to be vulnerable. They had a bulletproof plan to get to them during the window where the moon was completely concealed. They caused a distraction outside of their home, one which the family wouldn’t be able to ignore despite their knowledge of how weak they would be with the moon covered.” Natalia paused, rubbing the back of her neck, easing her discomfort with the action. She tried to keep her descriptions minimal and to the point. If Sam wanted details on specific elements he could ask. “My grandmother went in, sedated whoever was left in the house with a few smoke grenades laced with wolfsbane. My other grandmother joined her, it was them who carried the five children out of the house.” Natalia spared a glance at Sam’s face, dropping her hand from her neck and letting it settle on her lap. “Believe it or not, they had the easy job.” Grimacing, Nat swallowed, preparing herself for what came next. “My grandfathers’ went in after and as the Mets were stirring, they started asking questions. They had tasers with them to encourage responses. With the mix of the lunar eclipse, the wolfsbane lingering in their systems and electric jolts, the Mets soon started to unravel. My family were demanding they told them which of the children were werewolves. The Mets refused. They wouldn’t budge or reveal how many of if any of them were. My grandfathers were so enraged that they kept going. They upped the voltage of the tasers to near unsurvivable levels whilst they pinned the alpha down with knives laced in wolfsbane and a circle of mountain ash so he couldn’t escape or help whilst his pack and family were tortured. Eventually, the son broke and revealed that his two eldest children had already shown signs that they were werewolves but that his youngest, his only daughter seemed utterly human. She’d had colds and would cry from a papercut. The alpha roared out in anguish that his son had revealed such information, the house shook from his rage and panic of what was to come. My family took advantage of that. They broke the circle of wolfsbane and father attacked son. It was a sloppy fight. The son was weak and not healing. Blood was everywhere. The daughter screamed at them to stop. But the son was out of control, hissed that just because her children seemed human, it didn’t mean they were safe either. It was unclear who made the killing blow, whether the father or the daughter killed the son but he was down. That was when the rest of the pack entered the brawl. Family ties severed simply because he hadn’t been strong enough to keep their secret hidden.” Her mouth was dry, not used to so many words pouring out at once. Natalia reached forward, grabbing the closest glass and taking a long drink from it. It was only when she placed the glass back down that she even wondered if it had been her glass or Sam’s. That fact felt irrelevant right then. “Seeing that the Mets were rapidly losing their control, my grandfathers stepped in, started firing wildly at the family. Have you heard of wolf lichen?” Natalia asked, cutting her eyes up to Sam’s and waiting for a nod of confirmation. “The bullets were coated in it, just another form of poison to weaken the family. They fell quickly until just the alpha was left crawling across the floor, desperate to drag my family down. Another pack member had died so the alpha’s power was dwindling even more. He was hopeless as my grandfathers both fired a silver bullet into his skull. They were gone before they saw what happened. To this day they don’t know if that alpha power shifted to one of the children or someone else in that house or if it disappeared altogether.” Natalia took a moment to pause, to let Sam digest the torrent of information she’d dumped on him. Up until this part of the story, Natalia and Alex had sat enraptured, eagerly licking up details of taking down out of control wolf packs because it had been so easy to forget at 16 that the Mets had been peaceful. It was the next part that had the twins’ stomachs rolling.
“The children were still sleeping unaware that their father and uncle were dead, that their whole family were throwing punches at one another with no end to the blood path in sight until those final bullets had been fired. Their family are dead. Get rid of them. That’s what my mother’s father had said. A man who had two daughters of his own said that about other children. Innocent children, Sam. My grandmothers hesitated, the children had been locked up in the basement of the King’s old house but with children of their own, they couldn’t just go down their and kill them. Sensing their hesitation, they came to a deal amongst the four of them. Let them all go and pick off two to kill as they ran back home.” Natalia’s voice dropped, growing progressively quieter with that final sentence as ice wedged its way into her gut. Cold and crushing any warmth from inside of her. “So that’s what they did. The kids woke up confused on the street and started to run home. It was the Harper grandfather that took two of them down, firing indiscriminately with his bow and arrow until two fell down and didn’t move again. Of course, they weren’t sure if those they’d taken down were werewolves or human. They only knew for sure that one child was human anyway. The children would have run home to find family members dead and those that were alive, incapable of moving or already packing up to run. For years there were no Mets in town until Sabrina’s mother returned with her uncle, whose brother had been alpha. He left quickly but she settled down in a rundown house somewhere and kept herself busy. I don’t know why my family left her alone this time, especially when she started having children of her own or maybe they did go after her and never told us. But that’s it. Kidnap, torture, poison, murder all in a night’s work.” Natalia finally stopped then, life zapped from her eyes and shoulders curled inwards in an incredibly unfamiliar posture for her.
|
|
Hunters
Written by Megan.
147 posts.
22 years old.
help.
I am Male.
|
Post by Samuel Styles on Aug 25, 2022 19:25:36 GMT
There were no words in the English language that Sam could pull from the corners of his mind in that moment to describe the sickly, acidic and biting feeling that churned in the pits of his gut as Natalia tightened her hold on his hand and poured devastating and gruesome truths from her lips. He had expected something sinister from the reaction she’d had at just the brief explanations she’d given, but this? This was grotesque. It was macabre and ghastly and grisly. He had a thesaurus in his chest, twisting his heart with each synonym he could scrounge up as she pressed on and on. It was never-ending, each word worse than the last and Sam couldn’t stomach it. He’s killed. He has taken lives with a gun in his hand, with a blade locked tight in his trembling grasp. He’s been pinned down by a feral werewolf and has plunged his silver knife deep in their chest and watched the life drain from their eyes as they chomped in his direction—teeth clashing and spit spilling onto his cheeks where it mixed with his tears. Sam is a hunter, as much as he detests the title. He knew death, but this? God. None of those words—those horrific, hideous words—could touch the vicious acts of what the Harper-King grandparents had done to an innocent pack of werewolves. He was green in the gills, face ashen and eyes hollow. He could see it, a play-by-play behind his eyelids as he closed them. It was like a movie he desperately wanted to tear his eyes away from, but his gaze was locked on the screen. Blood and gore and betrayal. The ruthless grins on the hunters’ lips and the remorseless glint to their eyes. The torment in the werewolves' cries and the anguish with each movement. He could see it with every word, with every pressing truth that Natalia urged out despite the clear reluctance in her posture. He opened his eyes then, glancing at the glasses on the table and noticing that his had moved. In her haste, she must have taken a sip from his own, and while that would normally burn his cheeks with silly, romantic thoughts, the heat never rose. It was dwarfed, paled in comparison to the turmoil in his mind.
Sam didn’t know how to swallow this information, how to look her in the eye as her voice died on her tongue and her body hunched over in distress.
But he did it. He swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat, parting his lips once—then twice—as he sought out the right words. C’mon, Sam. Think logical—no feelings, just facts. This is what he did, this is what made him valuable. The ability to detach himself from the reality of the hunt when there wasn’t a weapon in his hand, the plan falling from his lips as a hypothetical as he pretended that he didn’t know damn well that he was plotting the death of a supernatural creature—something that was still part human no matter if they howled at the moon or not. He distanced himself from the rancid taste in his mouth and the burn in his chest, tightening his hold on Natalia’s hand and dipping his head to catch her eye. She didn’t look at him, lost in her thoughts and maybe (he hated to even think it) scared to look at him after what she’d said. As if this would change how he looked at her. As if anything could.
He didn't know if it was this bold streak he was on or the sheer need to erase the weakness in her stature—to return her to her confident, domineering glory—but he was reaching out for her once more. He removed the hand that was covering their joined ones, moving slowly (as if to not startle her, which he didn’t think he would ever have to fear when it came to Natalia) as he caught her chin between his thumb and index finger, the rest of his fingers curled into his palm. “Hey,” he spoke softly, eyes glimmering with unshed tears—ever the empath, always ready to shoulder another’s pain—and lips curved in a weak smile that he knew she could see right through, “Hey, Nat—honey,” and he heard the word fall from his lips but didn’t have the time to dwell upon the weight of it, “It wasn’t you.” It felt important to assure her of that, to remind her that it wasn’t her job to carry the weight of the actions of others, even if they were family. “What they did—I, I don’t have the words. I feel… I feel so sick and I’m so mad but I—thank you for telling me. It’ll help with getting Sabrina,” and here he goes, swapping his emotional switch off and distracting her (and himself, mostly) with logical talk, “I can’t imagine she knows about that night, not if she’s letting Rose help her, but still, I—I think that I would be the best to approach her.” He paused, searching her eyes for a moment before pushing his hand up her jaw, cradling her face in his large palm and tilting her head back just enough to keep her attention on him.
“Maybe we can make things right, Talia,” he urged, a hint of optimism sneaking in, “You know, the best we can. We can make sure nothing happens to her or any other innocent supernatural creatures here.” And that was the key term. Innocent. He was ready to kill this rogue pack, and he had slaughtered others before when he’d known they had caused harm to others, but the Mets? What the Harpers had done to a pack—no matter how large or powerful—who had never so much as laid a hand on anyone? That was murder. That was heinous and sickening and hate brewed in Sam’s heart at the thought. Noelle has never hurt anyone. She never would, but would the Harper’s kill her anyways? Would they find a way to make his father kill her the way they had the Mets Alpha kill his own son? Sam blinked back the tears, feeling one slip down his cheek and he squeezed Natalia’s hand in his own just a little tighter.
No. No, he wouldn’t let that happen. No one was going to touch his family. No one was going to touch his friends. And no one was going to touch these damn werewolf kids. Not on his watch. Sam wouldn't hesitate to point the gun at a hostile human to protect an innocent were-creature.
His eyes focused back on Natalia, coming back to himself and easing his lips from the frown they’d found themselves in and into a comforting smile. “We’ve got this,” he promised, stroking her cheek with his thumb gently—freezing when the intimacy of it sank in. Fuck. Oh fuck. He knew she must have caught the panic in his eyes, he felt them widen just slightly and he slowly eased his hand off her face and let it fall back to where their other hands rested. He couldn’t bring himself to be the one to break them apart.
“I, uh,” he dropped his eyes to their conjoined hands for a moment, finding his words once more, “I mean it, you know. Thank you for telling me.” He flexed his fingers, squeezing hers gently as his eyes ascended back up the length of her before resting upon her honey hazel gaze again. Her irises were a darkened mirror of his own. A warm, sunny center with a blue-green ring. Like a sunflower in a grassy field on a sunny day. Like a sun setting upon a forest lake. Sam’s lips caught in a small circle, eyes batting between each of her own as he found himself saying, “And this doesn’t change anything. Not between you and me. I won’t look at you differently because of what they did, and it means a lot that you trust me with this.” He brought his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing sheepishly at the skin and rustling the hair there as he cut his eyes to the table where their glasses sat.
“I don’t think there’s a damn thing that could change what you mean to me, Natalia,” and that was the closest he’d get to confessing his feelings, to cluing her in that he’d love her no matter what.
|
|