and panic. I looked down at the bloody, disfigured man. He was dead.
Too shocked to feel any guilt, I stared at the results of my rage. My hands were bloodstained and bruised, and still I thirsted for more violence. It wasn’t the animal part of me that killed this man. It was an act done by the part of me I considered human. The so-called humane part of me wanted to cause more violence and inflict more pain.
“Skylar,” Ethan breathed out behind me. The sound of his voice pulled me out of my dazed state. I took another look at the stilled body and the results of the malevolence. I absorbed the violence, took in the horrific image and wondered where the line between my animal and my humanity lay.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, leaning into me. His familiar calm washed over me. I leaned back against him trying to make the images of what I’d done disappear. Eventually, I gave up on that lost cause and followed him back to the car.
By the time we got to the car, Ethan was noticeably in pain. I drove as he settled back in the passenger side. He pulled out his phone. “I’ve been shot,” he stated in a strained voice “ … of course it was silver; I wouldn’t call you if it weren’t.”
Jeremy’s voice came through clearly as he tried to determine how far we were and the extent of the injuries. “Should I come there?” he asked in a hurried voice.
“Skylar’s driving, I should get there before there’s too much damage,” he assured Dr. Baker. Each word pulled a painful grimace to his face. Sweat started to form along his brow and his color became ashen. He had already pulled off his shirt to assess the damage. I didn’t have a severe aversion to silver so I never knew how traumatic it could be to a were-animal. Silver stopped the healing process, and the skin inflicted with the silver darkened, appearing to go through phases of necrosis.
I didn’t know how much time we had. Ethan didn’t look well and the traffic was horrible. We took a back road, which kept us out of stop and go traffic, but it added to our drive time.
“I think I can take the bullet out,” I offered as we navigated through the back streets. My hands were quite steady and, in the past, I exhibited the necessary dexterity to apply stitches to myself on several occasions.
It must have been really painful because he agreed without hesitation. We pulled over when we found an area less populated. I went to the trunk to see what they had. I figured they had to have an emergency kit or something; after all, these people had a hospital in their home. They did. I pulled out the emergency kit and a toolbox.
The bullet hadn’t penetrated that deeply, I could feel the edge of it when I touched his chest. I used the alcohol, box cutter, and needle-nose pliers as best I could. Placing the box cutter firmly against the skin, I pressed it deep enough to separate the bullet from the tissue. I was so nervous, my hands slipped several times cutting him. He winced but never made a sound. Once I separated the bullet from the tissue well enough, I used pliers to dislodge the bullet. When I finished, I cleaned and bandaged the wound.
After the bullet was removed, the tissue quickly repaired itself.
As I navigated my way through traffic, Ethan laid back against the seat, periodically glancing in my direction.
“Why did you run from me?” he finally asked in a calm voice. I glanced in his direction. His appearance was less distressed; his eyes no longer held the grayish hue.
“Scared … I was scared,” I admitted. “I thought you had killed someone without cause,” I continued in a small voice.
“You think I am capable of that?” he asked in a low, sharp voice.
Yes. I thought he was capable of that and so much more. “I didn’t know what to think.”
He inhaled deeply and I could feel his eyes bearing on me. “Who were they?”
“They were part of the vampires’ garden,” he said flatly, his eyes still fixed on me.
Too shocked to feel any guilt, I stared at the results of my rage. My hands were bloodstained and bruised, and still I thirsted for more violence. It wasn’t the animal part of me that killed this man. It was an act done by the part of me I considered human. The so-called humane part of me wanted to cause more violence and inflict more pain.
“Skylar,” Ethan breathed out behind me. The sound of his voice pulled me out of my dazed state. I took another look at the stilled body and the results of the malevolence. I absorbed the violence, took in the horrific image and wondered where the line between my animal and my humanity lay.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, leaning into me. His familiar calm washed over me. I leaned back against him trying to make the images of what I’d done disappear. Eventually, I gave up on that lost cause and followed him back to the car.
By the time we got to the car, Ethan was noticeably in pain. I drove as he settled back in the passenger side. He pulled out his phone. “I’ve been shot,” he stated in a strained voice “ … of course it was silver; I wouldn’t call you if it weren’t.”
Jeremy’s voice came through clearly as he tried to determine how far we were and the extent of the injuries. “Should I come there?” he asked in a hurried voice.
“Skylar’s driving, I should get there before there’s too much damage,” he assured Dr. Baker. Each word pulled a painful grimace to his face. Sweat started to form along his brow and his color became ashen. He had already pulled off his shirt to assess the damage. I didn’t have a severe aversion to silver so I never knew how traumatic it could be to a were-animal. Silver stopped the healing process, and the skin inflicted with the silver darkened, appearing to go through phases of necrosis.
I didn’t know how much time we had. Ethan didn’t look well and the traffic was horrible. We took a back road, which kept us out of stop and go traffic, but it added to our drive time.
“I think I can take the bullet out,” I offered as we navigated through the back streets. My hands were quite steady and, in the past, I exhibited the necessary dexterity to apply stitches to myself on several occasions.
It must have been really painful because he agreed without hesitation. We pulled over when we found an area less populated. I went to the trunk to see what they had. I figured they had to have an emergency kit or something; after all, these people had a hospital in their home. They did. I pulled out the emergency kit and a toolbox.
The bullet hadn’t penetrated that deeply, I could feel the edge of it when I touched his chest. I used the alcohol, box cutter, and needle-nose pliers as best I could. Placing the box cutter firmly against the skin, I pressed it deep enough to separate the bullet from the tissue. I was so nervous, my hands slipped several times cutting him. He winced but never made a sound. Once I separated the bullet from the tissue well enough, I used pliers to dislodge the bullet. When I finished, I cleaned and bandaged the wound.
After the bullet was removed, the tissue quickly repaired itself.
As I navigated my way through traffic, Ethan laid back against the seat, periodically glancing in my direction.
“Why did you run from me?” he finally asked in a calm voice. I glanced in his direction. His appearance was less distressed; his eyes no longer held the grayish hue.
“Scared … I was scared,” I admitted. “I thought you had killed someone without cause,” I continued in a small voice.
“You think I am capable of that?” he asked in a low, sharp voice.
Yes. I thought he was capable of that and so much more. “I didn’t know what to think.”
He inhaled deeply and I could feel his eyes bearing on me. “Who were they?”
“They were part of the vampires’ garden,” he said flatly, his eyes still fixed on me.
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