Wrath and Emeralds - Chapter Six

[draconica-nova.livejournal.com]

Title: Wrath and Emeralds - 6/12
Chapter Rating: R
Overall Rating: R
Warning(s): Angst and a lot of violence in this chapter. Gee, I wonder why?
Summary: Tension and strenuous emotions at home lead to a fight for survival.

Author's Notes: Oh, I’d recommend some fitting music to play whilst reading this part. I suggest either ‘Monster’ by Skillet or ‘Animal I Have Become’ by Three Days Grace.

P.S. Apologies for my recent absence but my internet is having problems at home, so I haven’t been able to read all the lovely updates. I don’t know when I’ll get it back again, but I promise that once I do I will catch up and comment with all I have missed. ^__^



Pat wasn’t asleep - she wasn’t even trying. Not when her husband had seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth just over twenty-four hours ago. Since then, she’d had the police round three times, endless news reporters swamping her with phone calls and many more messages of support and condolences from friends, family and complete strangers. The strangers probably didn’t care less about how the family was feeling – they were just some very sweet fans of Ryan’s. After all, he touched so many people in his line of work.

Mackenzie had come downstairs that morning ready for breakfast and Pat had been watching the news desperately. As soon as she noticed Mac at the door, she quickly turned the television off and wiped her eyes, pretending that nothing was wrong. But the damage had already been done. Mac had seen enough on screen to know that something was very wrong and had insistently turned it back on again, unable to keep her eyes off the flickering picture for an uncomfortable span of minutes. The 11 year-old had then ran back upstairs, tears streaming down her face and locked herself in her bedroom, refusing to come out.

Seeing her daughter so distressed had made Pat determined not to let Sam find out about what had happened, at least not until something was confirmed. News like that for a nine year-old didn’t bear thinking about how it would affect him.

It had been the most hectic twenty-four hours of her life, so the fact that she had been drinking an entire bottle of wine all evening was perfectly excusable – she’d cried herself to thirst. Meanwhile, a bottle of sleeping pills stood unopened in front of her on the kitchen table, silently mocking her.

She had escaped into her own little world of thoughts for a moment before a sequence of furious knocks on the front door snapped her out of it. It was either the police, which seemed fairly unlikely at 1am, or a very single-minded reporter trying for his last scoop of the story, the vulture. She slumped forward onto the table, not having the heart to answer.

“Pat? Pat, it’s me!”

That’s funny… she could’ve sworn she heard Ryan’s voice just now. She raised her head curiously but remained pensive at the noise. After all, if Ryan was missing, he couldn’t possibly be at the front door.

Another sequence of hard pounding made her sit up straight, but it wasn’t until she heard Ryan again did she decide to open the door for this visitor.

When the door swung open, Pat realised that never before had she felt so elated but also so confused at the same time. Ryan was deeply out of breath as if he had been running all the way to the house. It took her a few moments to fully comprehend that he was here – she reached out to touch his troubled-looking face as if she were afraid he’d burst like a bubble at any moment.

He cupped her hand to his cheek and smiled weakly. “It’s me… I’m here,” he whispered.

That was all the assurance she needed, just to hear his voice again even if it was broken and deathly quiet. He fell into her arms, or she fell into his, and they cried.

~~~

“Everyone thinks you’re missing, they’re worried,” Pat remarked as she brought Ryan a mug of coffee, loyally sitting herself next to him on the couch.

Ryan nodded slowly. “And it’s only been a day. I didn’t know I was so important.”

“Don’t say that,” she sighed. “Of course you’re important.”

He grumbled something unintelligible and rubbed a sleeve over his eyes tiredly. “How are the kids?”

Pat laid a hand on his arm. “Mac’s been crying all morning, so my mother came round today to take her and Sam to my parents’ house for a week or so – I wanted to keep them away from any news.”

The thought of his kids struck another deep chord. Ryan nodded again and then said quietly, “Good.”

“I’d better call the police, tell them you’re all right.”

Ryan wasn’t listening clearly before Pat moved toward the phone lying on the coffee table, but soon realised her intentions and reacted without thinking – he lunged forward and snatched phone as if it were a live grenade. Pat stared at him in disbelief as he awaited her reaction.

“Ryan?” she questioned but he turned away in what seemed like shame and fear.

“They don’t need to know,” he said quickly, trying to think up an excuse and cursing him when his sharp wit failed him. “No one does, at least not yet. Let’s give them time to… you know, miss me.”

Pat swallowed nervously – something wasn’t quite right in her husband, she could tell. “Okay, Ryan. This is the part where you tell me what the hell happened to you.”

He clenched his hands precipitately against a sudden familiar tingle that caused a wave of terror in the pit of his stomach.

“Pat, listen to me,” he started and moved closer to her, taking her hands in his. “Let me explain everything to you. It’s going to sound crazy… and there are people who don’t want me telling you this, but please bear with me.”

So, for ten whole minutes, Ryan told her everything from the last 24 or so hours. He told her about the virus, its complications and side effects, he explained the Facility and what they had done to “help” him and also mentioned the part Colin played in this situation and how he had gotten roped into it, too. All through the one-sided discussion Pat continued to look increasingly perplexed and shocked, not to mention harbouring a serious case of disbelief.

“You’re funny, Ryan,” she shook her head. “You’re a funny guy. So you’re just kidding, right? Because there’s no such thing as werewolves.”

The label ‘werewolf’ made him sound like a monster, which unnerved him. He clenched his jaw determinedly and grasped her hands tighter. “It’s all true,” he said, “but it’s not like that. This is something genuinely dangerous – it’s already killed somebody, Pat. And I don’t know just how in control I am.”

She continued to look at him, worry evident on her face. “So what’s to stop you from changing right now?”

Ryan sighed and decided it best, to some extent, tell her the truth. “Nothing.”

She nodded slowly, inhaling deeply, and then her eyes rested on the two coffee mugs on the table. Strange… how homely they looked. “I should wash these out.”

Ryan watched her in confusion as she hastily grabbed the mugs, spilling some in the process, and walked into the kitchen with a quickened step. It hurt him to note that she seemed so uncomfortable now, even in the presence of someone she’d known almost twenty years.

As he approached the doorway after her, she was already distracting herself at the sink, cleaning the mugs many times over.

“Pat… honey?” He moved toward her cautiously but a hand to her shoulder made her jump and freeze. She had never acted this way around him before and this in turn fed into his paranoia that he was changing for good, but not for the better.

Pat paused - her shoulders, which had been tense and arched, had now fallen leaving her emotionally defenceless. “Me and the kids… are we safe?”

“Pat, we should get to bed. You must be exhausted-“

“No! Answer me.” She turned sharply, pushing his comforting hands away and fixing him with a deadly glare. “I want to keep them safe, Ryan. Can you promise me that nothing will happen?”

Ryan was taken aback by her sudden change in mood but not so much by her passion to protect her family, including the child yet to be born. The reminder of her pregnancy impossibly made him more determined to find a way through his illness. She was still looking up at him, waiting for an answer like a crouching tigress would wait for her prey to make a sudden move.

“I want more than anything in the world to say without conviction that I can.”

“But…?” Pat could see it coming and shivered involuntarily.

Ryan simply shook his head, apologising to her with his eyes.

Her expression was unnervingly unreadable as she turned away in half-hearted rejection. “Then I think you’d better leave. Right now.”

Ryan swallowed back a solid lump in his throat. “Patricia, please, I love you and I need you to help me through this.”

“But you don’t need me, Ryan. As far as I’m can see, I have no part in this absurd situation.”

“I can’t do this alone!” He grasped at both of her hands again and felt such a pang when he noticed her try and resist him. “I need you to be with me. I need you to love me and be there for me.”

“From what you’ve told me, it sounds like Colin’s beaten me to it.”

He paused at the suggestion, furrowing his brow in confusion when he realised that she was right.

“It’s funny. I always did see the way you looked at Colin,” she smiled sadly. “I could never compete with him for your friendship, could I?”

“This has got nothing to do with Colin. This is about you and me,” Ryan begged but Pat shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Ryan,” she whispered, gently pushing his hands away. “I can’t love you. Not like this.”

Heartbroken, Ryan’s jaw tightened, his palms grew sweaty and he felt his breathing grow hard. “No… no!” he said gruffly.

Pat flinched at his sudden turn but Ryan didn’t notice this. Instead, his eyes had become fixated on something lying on the counter that had caused his mouth to water. It was a pack of chicken wings, uncooked and seemingly unopened, possibly forgotten in the day’s disturbance. He licked his lips and twitched his nose as forbidden senses began to let themselves loose.

With no preamble he went for the wings and tore open the packet literally in his quest for a satisfying feed. Pat watched him take a large bite of raw meat and grew panicked. “Ryan, stop it! You’ll make yourself ill!”

She reached over to try and grab the food away but wasn’t expecting him to growl and shove her hard to the tiled floor, his eyes positively scorching a burning green. “I’m already ill!”

The expression on her face brought him back into humane awareness and what felt like a thousand knives pierced his heart all at once. His feral ability to sense fear had become potent at the most inconvenient time – she was terrified, and he was feeling the full force of that fear manifest itself into an even more dangerous energy.

The tingling in his hands shot up his arms and flowed through his torso like a waterfall. That dreaded sensation could only mean one thing and this time, Colin wasn’t here to save him.

Ryan clutched his chest with one hand and keeled over slightly whilst his other hand steadied himself against the kitchen counter. “Pat, get upstairs and for God’s sake protect yourself… and our baby.” He tried to smile but failed when he grimaced through the feel of claws growing from his fingertips…

To her credit, Pat never questioned him. She ran upstairs straight away, sobbing and muttering prayers under her breath as she did so.

Ryan staggered through the house and collapsed against the front door with a yelp, knocking his bandaged wrist against the handle accidentally. He wanted to open the door and get out, wanted to run as far away from here as his legs could take him but trembling, twitching, transforming fingers made the simple task of turning the lock impossible.

With a pained scream, he gave up and crumpled in a heap onto the ‘welcome’ mat and allowed the virus to grow. He aided it anyway he could by clawing at his clothes as the muscles and bones expanded painfully and bit by bit, his conscience was ebbed away. Once all traces of the man had been lost, the wolf gave its awakening how, almost causing the walls to shudder.

It looked around questioningly at the domestic surroundings, confused by the significance. At first, he seemed bereft and mystified by the apparent absence of Colin and gave a small whimper in acknowledgement of this. His first and foremost priority should’ve been to find Colin, making sure the man he’d sworn to protect was safe and unharmed, however the taste of meat soon took over. Hungry, it ran its slobbering tongue over jagged teeth and detected the recently devoured chicken lining his gums. He lifted his head and sniffed several times in experiment – this house held fear, adrenaline and the scent of fresh meat from nearby. The wolf wondered in a brief moment of sanity why it felt like this meal was forbidden but soon began his prowl up the plush stairs, running his nose along the floor.

He’d soon tracked the scent to a closet door at the end of the upstairs hallway, behind which sat a petrified, distressed woman.

Pat heard a deep snuffling noise vibrate through the wood behind her and she caught her breath in terror. Silent sobs wracked her chest as she desperately tried to keep silent. Dark shapes cast shadows in the light that streamed beneath the door, shifting like footsteps and a deep growl was the only warning she got before the beast began to scratch and paw at the obstacle between itself and fresh meat.

With a bout of ferocious roars, the wolf had begun trying to claw its way through the solid door – the mixed scent of fear and blood was too intoxicating to simply leave be.

“I’m so sorry, Ryan. I’m so, so sorry…” Pat cried to herself as she began to feel the door hinges start to give way to ferocious determination. There was a loud crack and she screamed as the wood finally splintered and a paw forced its way through with black claws unsheathed.

It was at that moment when a sequence of loud knocks emanated from the front door downstairs, echoing through the dark hallway. The wolf halted his assault as his ears perked up, erect and alert at the new sound.

A man shouted, “Mrs. Stiles! It’s the police. Is everything all right?”

His curiosity was well and truly aroused as his attention moved completely away from the closet and the person inside.

Another man added, “You neighbor tells us that she heard a disturbance at this address.”

Intrigued at the possibility of easier prey, the beast skulked down the corridor toward the uproar, his eyes turning a greedy red.

Pat took this opportunity to peek through the newly formed crack in the door and saw the animal walking away in apparent disinterest of her. She was immensely relieved but in turn felt powerless to warn to cops of what was about to greet them.

Outside, one young officer pounded on the door until his fist ached.

“Lenny, she’s probably asleep,” the other one told him with a shrug. “It’s just stress with Stiles going missing and everything.”

“Part of the job,” Lenny sighed, knocking some more. “How can a guy disappear off the face of the Earth, anyway? You’d think he’d be somewhere.”

“Oh sure,” laughed his fellow officer. “Ryan Stiles is just gonna appear from out of nowhere.”

The downstairs window suddenly shattered as something was thrust through it, spraying shards of glass over the front lawn. The two men naturally flinched and shielded themselves with their arms before taking a look at what had presumably been thrown through the window in a fit of rage.

Imagine their surprise when their eyes rested upon a seething, salivating wolf with a gaze as dangerous as anything. It immediately saw them and turned with a healthy roar, causing them to jump.

“What the fuck is that!?” Lenny cried, reaching around for his gun that had been dropped in all the commotion.

The other officer couldn’t help but tremble uncontrollably in fear as he saw the animal advance toward him, covering the short distance between them in a single bound. It barely took one swipe of its claws before the man had collapsed to the ground with a single shriek. Lenny was entranced and dumbfounded by the spectacle before him and could not look away or act upon the situation. He saw the wolf dig his teeth through flesh and swing its tail in agitation as it feasted. It wasn’t until the beast slowly turned to face him with a snarl, human blood dripping rhythmically from its evil-deformed muzzle, did the officer finally find the adrenaline he needed to run for his life.

However, running only made this prey more game in the eyes of a predator like this unforgiving animal. The man was only a few feet away from the squad car at the end of the drive when a heaving mass of muscle, claws and teeth caught up with him to end his life with a rasping hiss, the growls nicely covering up the noise of human pain.

Once the massacre had ended, the beast backed away a few steps before raising its head and howling into the warm, muggy air, signalling its triumph.

After a few good sniffs, it realised something pleasing - the air was full of warm, musky smells of potential kills, which to anyone else would simply be the late nighters, or early risers, walking the streets for whatever purposes they may have.

With a simple growl in excitement the beast dashed off into the night and left behind the bloodstained crime-scene, stealthily darting between streetlamps in search of another fresh kill. Or two.

To be continued...