An hour after the Wellings Manor was devoured by a single flame, a group of vampires came around and lugged us off to a safe house on the south side of Miami. Now here I am, condemned to my own little glass cubicle until the nurses can assure the leaders of the safehouse that my vitals are stable.

It's two hours until midnight, and after one of the nurses comes to take my hourly blood pressure, Athan pushes into my cubicle as he pushes past the nurse who's busy, scanning her data on my blood pressure.  He meets with one of his phony smiles.

"Nice place you got," he jokes around, but his awkward laughter dies off once he meets my earnest gaze prying into his heart. Out anyone who could come and visit me in this prison, why him? Why Athan? 

It's not much of for a room compared to what I've had. It's small, rectangular, the walls and ceiling being made out of pure glass. Other than the television plastered in one of the corners of the walls, the only piece of furniture in this room is merely a hospital bed with metal rails that makes it feel more like a crib than a bed. 

Outside the glass, I can see dozens of other cubicles lined up in even intervals with mine. In the cubicle next door from me is Kyran. It's at least calming enough to know he's nearby. For a moment, I almost drop the fact that Athan is still in my territory, but then I have to turn and face him.

"Athan." My voice comes out barely louder than a whisper. I sit down on my bed as I force the metal bars down. As he hears his name come from my mouth, his eyes seem to light up. 

"Yes?" 

"Please just leave." It actually astonishes me that my words manage to leave my mouth in one soothing breath. My tongue clicks softly at the roof of my mouth as I wait for Athan response, but much to my surprise, he doesn't even open his mouth to try to persuade me. 

"As you wish." My eyes trail over his dark shadow as his footsteps retreat forward to the glass door. With a chime from the recognition of his retina, the door slides open, and the pattern of his light footsteps fade into nothingness.  

Once the door secures shut with a quiet ding, I collapse into my pillow letting everything inch of emotion I've clung onto spill from my lunges in soft clouds of desperation. Boiling tears run down my face in faltering lines, until they reach my chin and proceed into soaking my hospital gown of white cotton and childhood lullabies. The muscles in my chin tremble like an earthquake as I press my face up against the railings that make up the headboard. 

Everything before my eyes is an enormous blur of mushy fog that clouds my vision like an overprotective barrier of my melancholy, yet it is nowhere near close to resembling the erupting of my palpitating heart. When my voice starts cracking and pleading for air, I'm left there, silent, listening to nothing but the heavy sound of my runny nose taking air in and letting all the stress I've allowed myself to carry all this time. 

It's not even eleven o'clock yet, but I hear the door slide open, and nurse steps in, clearing her throat in such a fine manner it seems unreal. But then again, these past two weeks have been anything but real. 

"Miss Wilson, I must ask, is everything alright in here?" Her voice is softer than a whisper, and for a vampire, she sure clings to her clipboard as if it's the only thing that will salvage her soul from the dangers of life. 

"Yes," I lie, forcing a giddy smile to crawl up my face. "Everything is absolutely peachy." I grit my teeth for a moment and then decide to break the eerie silence with the words, "Is there any chance you could happen to give me a tattoo?" 

She hugs her clipboard more tighter than ever and squeezes her eyes shut as she looks away from me. How is it possible that a vampire is afraid of a werewolf? That's quite obscure. Vampires outrank us on various levels depending on what stage each and every monster stands at individually.  "Miss, don't you find that request even a tad bit extreme on any level?" 

"Not at all." I spit. She cocks an eyebrow up as she peers out from one side of her clipboard, her fingernails loosening their grip of the elastic. "I just want a tattoo. Is there any way you can give me one?" 

"If you truly desire one," she gives in with a massive breath of defeat, "I shall try my best to make that happen, Miss." She leaves the room with a brush of her heel, the door slamming tight together as her footsteps move forward. 

I gather the details of the ceiling as I wait for the nurse to return with the equipment to make my wish a reality. I never knew that domed ceilings with concentric layers and patterns of stones existed in any form of architecture other than churches. I have been proved wrong. 

Sabia always told Kyran and me, the people of Howl Falls' viewed tattoos as the mark of Satan's the works. They saw tattoos as the target of rejection towards the cleansing of iniquity. It's the ultimate act of insurgency. Those who exhibit the devil's insignia are scorned by the citizens of Howl Falls are forbidden to set foot in the house of God. So I must wear this. 

The nurse returns with all the equipment necessary to give me a tattoo - markers, needles, inks of various colors. The nurse drops all the stuff at the foot of my bed and looks up at me with a beaming smile on her face. "What do you want your tattoo to show and where do you want it, Miss?"

"I want a crescent moon on my arm," I describe to her, "and I want it here." I point to my lower left arm. With a quick nod, the nurse gets straight to work, and it's not ten bite mark yet. Two thousand seventeen can't roll in fast enough, can it? 

I keep myself occupied by counting how many times the person in the cubicle in front of me is checked on in a span of only thirty minutes. It's not the most exciting or occupying activity in the world, but, at least it lets my mind focus on anything but the pain coming from the needles being stuck in my arm. 

The first time, ten thirty-two, one of the nurses goes in and checks the blood pressure of the young girl who seems rather frail ... and panicky from the looks of her reddened face. 

The second time, five minutes later, another nurse comes in and from the weird looks on the paper attached to her clipboard, asks the patient to rate her pain on a scale from one to ten. My eyes widen when the young girl, who can't be much older than thirteen, holds up nine fingers and the nurse records it. 

The third time, another five minutes into the future, two other nurses step into the girl's cubicle and examine what appears to be a bitemark on the side of her neck. If I'm going to put the puzzle pieces together correctly, I'm going to assume that the girl had been bitten by a vampire, but the venom is going to kill her, not change her.

Someone who isn't a nurse comes in the fourth time, another five minutes into the future. When he leaves the room, the young girl is passed out in her bed and hooked up to an IV. Somehow, this is actually becoming entertaining. 

And last, another five minutes later, three nurses come into the cubicle and roll the girl out of the room by her bed. The light above the lock on her cubicle turns a gray color, and she is rolled off into the distance until my eyes can no longer follow her. 

I wince in pain as the nurse pulls the needles out. I hear a soft giggle escape from her mouth. "We're done silly." I look down in relief, examining the symbol painted onto my arm. 

Dull yellow blends together over the tiniest accents and lines, bringing the symbol of my being to life. Ink soaks into my flesh and veins. The crescent mark, representing the inhumane blood flowing through me, shines proudly under the fluorescent light, inches from my wrist.

It's perfect. 

"Do you like it, Miss?" the nurse asks me. 

Looking up at her, I nod. A grin plasters itself across my face without any consent from my brain. "I love it." Our eyes linger upon each other during an awkward moment of silence until I decide to break in. "Does anything special happen here on New Year's Eve?" 

"Not really," the nurse replies, cleaning up all the equipment she used to make my tattoo. "We can't experiment with any form of extravagance. The United State's government would become aware of our existence all too quickly." 

"Then why did I see you guys trying to save a sweet, innocent little girl after being bit by a vampire?" My curiosity tends to get the best of me from time to time. It's not a bad thing, especially in Howl Falls. But sometimes curiosity comes with a price.   

"We can't actually remove the venom," she explains to me looking at the cubicle in front of mine. "The best we can do stabilize it so the worst effect on the patient can be changing, not death."

"Wow," I remark with a chortle emitting through my nose in a snort. I'm not the best when it comes to small talk, but it seems natural when it comes to this nurse. "That's deep." 

"Miss Wilson," the nurse chimes into the silence with her soft voice. I look up as I play with my hospital gown meeting her doe eyes. "I hope this doesn't sound too intrusive, but however did you get your name? Betrys." 

For a person who's only known me for less than a half hour, she has somehow managed to pronounce my name without flaw. It took Keanna longer than this nurse to learn the desired articulation of my name. How are they able to do that? 

"My mom had an older sister," I muse. With the memory absorbing every inch of my brain, I don't even realize that the nurse is listening. For a moment there, it feels as if I'm back in Howl Falls again, huddled up against Kyran next to the fireplace as Sabia told us a story about Mom and Dad like she did every Sunday night. "Her name, similar to mine, was Betrys. The only difference between her name and mine is that when pronounced, her sister's name was synonymous with its most common form - Beatrice."  

I pause for a moment, taking a deep breath in to keep the memory alive in my mind as it attempts to fade away. "On my mom's fifteenth birthday, Hurricane Bob struck my hometown, and my mom was out hunting. Thinking my mom hadn't reached shelter, Betrys went out into the storm, searching for my mother and was eventually swallowed by the waves.

"My mom named me after my aunt because of her courage and bravery," I sum the point of my story about Aunt Betrys closet. Knowing I haven't provided the entire story of my name, I quickly add in, "And because I reminded my mother of Beatrice from Much Ado About Nothing."

Before the kind nurse who seems to have been a real audience opens her soft-spoken mouth, there's a loud bang on the door. I peek up at the glass door to see a nurse standing outside my cubicle with an outfit folded neatly in the crook of her arm. The kind nurse gets to her feet and goes to the door, exchanging brief sentences with the gruff sounding nurse. 

As the surly nurse leaves, the door shutting behind her as her feet turn into the direction of Kyran's cubicle, the kind nurse turns to me, holding the attire in her arms. "Nurse, why did that other woman bring clothes here?"

"Because President Lowell likes her subjects in armor," the kind nurse replies. "And you can call me Lucille." With that, Nurse Lucille places the clothes at the foot of my bed. She presses the middle of the watch-like bracelet wrapping around her wrist like a cuff and a curtain drops down between for privacy. 

I pull on the ripped jeans provided for me first, followed by the tank-top made out of sheer black fabrics. Lucille then comes in and helps me attach the plate of armor, to the seams of my tank-top. I finish the outfit up with a pair of tall leather boots. I dust my shoulders off, facing the door. 

Lucille helps me stumble out of my cubicle, punching in a code that makes the lock turn a bright yellowish pigment. Within those few moment of rest, the cries for fresh air that come from the aching of my knees vanish, and I follow her down the endless hallway of glass cubicles, most of which are empty and bare bright yellow lights above their locks. 

As we reach the end of the lobby, the sound of anxious chatter echoes softly through one of the narrow hallways. I follow Lucille who moves through the darkness and nothingness without hesitation. But I shouldn't be surprised by that. She's a nurse. She's supposed to know every hallway here like the back of her hand. 

The sounds gradually become louder until the darkness is replaced by shallow lights from the high-set ceilings above us. Crowds of people in armor take up the entire follow all the way up to the empty stage closed off by velvet ropes.

I scan the room, looking for my brother. It can't be that hard given that us werewolves beat vampires in height. Most of the crowd stands at the peak of no taller than five foot five, so spotting someone who sports altitudes of more than six feet is nothing. 

From the corner of my eye, I spot Kyran, Eileene, and Keanna huddled in one of the edges of the room sealed off with marble columns that reach up to the crystal chandelier decorating the entire ceiling. A giddy smile takes over my whole face, and I push through the crowd of vampires, who let out disdainful hisses as they linger down my frame of five foot eight. 

Finally getting through the crowd of some not-so-friendly vampires playing a game of Would You Rather, I'm finally only a few yards away from Kyran, so I decide on my opening line to be, "Hey, Kyran." 

Kyran glances up at me for a second, acknowledging my presence with an appreciative smile, but then goes back to leaning over his phone, exchanging words with Eileene in whispers. The only one who doesn't indulge herself in this "private meeting" is Keanna. 

She comes over to me, pulling me into a hug. Her bones are tense as she looks both ways. Her voice lowers to a soft gust of air. "How are you holding up? Did he visit you?"

"He did," I reply in a dry manner. I usually save this tone for a special occasion. Hence someone hearing me utter in such away is rather scarce than like. "And I know for a fact, that I don't ever wanna see him again in my life."

"Well, sadly for you, B, you're gonna have to let go of that idea," she avers with gentle remonstrance. "We've already signed you up to return to Howl Falls to show that we've been there and are ready for a fight."  

"But," I protest, my voice faltering as I try to think up a witty comeback. "But what if I don't wanna be apart of this resistance?" 

"You don't have a choice," Keanna snaps at me and I back away. It seems abominably clear that she spends too much time around Athan. "It is way too dangerous for you to return back to Howl Falls. They'll force you to reveal all of our plans and execute you. And it's too risky for you to integrate yourself fully into the human world. It's what's best for you, and all of the group."  

She does bring up a good point. I guess, there's no backing out now. It is my fault that the Moon Clan burnt down the Resistance headquarters, so I'm already obligated to provide intel to Llwyd. And part of my mission involves myself in the Resistance so it wouldn't do well if I refuse to be apart of this uprising. Guess I'm tied in both ways no matter what.

"Okay," I give in with a frown of defeat. "When do we move in?" 

"The first of February," Keanna replies. 

With that, the clock chimes as the numbers change to eleven thirty. I notice that everyone immediately stops what they're doing and focus their attention on the stage where the screen behind it states in big bold words Connie Lowell, President of the Association of Abnormal Activity (2017).

Smoke fills the stage and applause begin to roar through the room as the fog thickens for a good half a minute and then starts fading away as a dark silhouette of full-figured woman casts its shadow to the end of the room inch by inch. Once the smoke is completely gone, the lights from the balcony above brighten over the figure, revealing a woman who couldn't be much older than her late thirties. 

Connie Lowell, a slim-boned woman fresh from what I assume is the vampire community with her unnerving white smile that blends in with her skin, big pastel hair and silk jumpsuit with various emblems encrypted on them. I have to force my eyes to move away for my bones to stop the chills spiraling down my spine endlessly. 

"Hello, my fabulous abnormal warriors." The way she talks, I already know her and I won't get along. Too perky. "I am so grateful to be your elected representative for the year, two thousand seventeen. Now, onto some huge news. For the time being, we'll be harboring a minuscule crew of insurgents. Please welcome them with open arms."

In unison, the army of enthusiastic vampires turns in our direction, meeting us with eyes of red iron and steel. Their teeth grind like musical harmony. Finally feel the urge to back away when Kyran places a protective arm in front of my chest, and Keanna brings me into her arms, holding me tight as I look away from the sight of Kyran's outlash. 

I hear a roar of his growling thunder and the scattered scream of thousands of vampires. After a moment, it fades into the atmosphere and quietness lurks the room like a heavy burden of punishment. The only sound I hear are the crashing footsteps of Kyran as he marches across the chamber, the sound echoing up the tips of the ceiling and bouncing down with a snarl of a snake. 

The echoes fade out, and I can no longer hear Kyran's feet moving. It is replaced by the emergence of a new sound.  The noise of a sharp slap hitting the cheek of those who have crossed the line. People like ... 

"OW!" The voice belongs to the only person in the world that Kyran will most likely ever hold a grudge against. Someone worthy of bearing Kyran's mark of red shame in the form of a deep scar across the middle of his cheek. The one. The only Athan Wellings. 

I pull away from Keanna just in time to see the slap arrive at Athan's pale pink cheek. I may not know everything there is to know about the vampire species, but I do know this. People who get too close to a pureblood vampire when their function's come to reality and try to start operating never prevail to tell their story. At least not as a human. 

I push my way through the crowd as quick as possible, silent screams of horror escaping in breaths of air from my lips. Athan and I have never been on the greatest of the terms, as far as I'm concerned, but I've known him long enough to know that he abides by a code of honor when it comes to his prey. He doesn't finish anyone off unless he currently has the upper hand.  And by the looks of it, these two might've actually bought me some time. And amusement through watching both of their failures. 

I don't know what is more hilarious. My brother, who is significantly taller than Athan, almost lost the upper hand, or that currently, neither of them are winning the fight? They're now losing the battle to air that is literally nothing. 

"Okay, Wilson." Athan drags his vowels as if they're a heavy pail of rocks he just can't seem to rid himself of. "I'm gonna save us both a whole bunch of humiliation and end this right now." He reaches down for my brother, a screaming and burdened heart slowly crawling up my throat, as anticipation gets the best of me. He pulls Kyran up tightly by his neck.

I see Kyran staring into Athan's eyes, fear taking over him completely. A big gulp can be heard sliding down his throat. Kyran has never shown fear. And then I remember the deal we struck when I first went to the combat rings after transforming for the first time. He said that he would only use his cry of desperation if there were a state of emergency. And with every muscle in body trembling, I already know he's trying to give me that cry of despair. I never hoped to have to witness it. 

And I never will, I finally decide as I see Athan preparing to take a bite. I slide down on the ground, knocking Kyran out of his place in Athan's right before Athan's teeth can dig into my brother's neck, but unfortunately, it is enough time for Athan to choose a better choice of game. And even worse, it is not enough time for me to escape the bloodthirsty freak that possesses the guy I almost became friends with in the second semester of seventh grade. 

Every defining moment befalls in between that nanosecond in between the pause. Goodness can be defined through mercy, and malevolence can be associated with taking the bite. It all comes down to that nanosecond in between. 

His cold lips to my neck and kisses it. His teeth sink into my neck. Pain shoots up my body more frequently than those fireworks down in the human's world every single year on the same day. July 4th - the one day every year Howl Falls is condemned to twenty-four hours of absolute solitude. And that's what everything feels like after Athan lets go of me and leave me on the ground as I lay there, helpless, losing everything to the big white haze clouding over me - an endless vacated, dark world of eternal solitude. 

~ 

DUN. DUN. DUH! Oh, also here's a little historical info:

Hurricane Bob was a category one hurricane that occurred in the southeastern United States in July of 1985. It started on July 21st as a tropical wave and hit southwestern Florida as a weak tropical storm. It ended in West Virginia on July 26th. The hurricane is known to have caused 5 indirect casualties and caused $20 million in damages. 

If you enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to vote and comment. I'd really appreciate it. Thanks. 

The days when One Direction were still a band. *sighs heavily*  

X Shay X