#darknesshunted

incorrect quotes meme: @darknesshunted & @hcrv3lles, calliope mcintyre and wallace harvelle.

"the shifter. we'll meet it here." jude whistles low, ben ignores him. "it's been tailing me for years, always a step behind because it can't grab memories until it settles. it only downloads the old stuff. that's why it always shows up a day too late on our hunts when we're already the hell outta dodge." ... @hcrv3lles, @rottenache, @darknesshunted

i imagine when they were kids, a lot of the dotting mothers thought that they would grow up to be each other's sweethearts, unbeknownst that later that day at ben's birthday party, she had him face down in his own bouncy castle while throwing hands to be his worst nightmare, and since then has been glued to the hips as best friends.

he's been feeling itchy for the better part of the day, anxiety dancing along his spine, blossoming nerves throughout his system; and he hates that callie is there to be able to recognize it. there's mild annoyance that laces in the undercurrent of his timbre lately, he's been struggling with regulating his anger and taking it out on drunk patrons to whatever bar they stop by for the night, smoking more, and jesse wanting to talk about whatever doomed future that a couple of assholes in a suit told them about has ben wanting to drop him off on the side of the next backroad that they cruise down. "don't, i don't want t' hear it." ... @darknesshunted

"lookin' back on it... i should've made another pit stop after i left the braedens." he chuckles when he says it, a tut of his tongue with the barely there flash of his pearl teeth, a smile too wide on ben's features that hardly 'dons one. "in fact, maybe i'll go say hi to them on my next stop. see how they have been since they have lost their darling little daughter." he laughs like a scoff, off handedly and passive if not dismissive; and not just a game that they are playing. "in fact, i even wonder if their lives have been better after you left." @darknesshunted.

"don't-" he chokes out, the same hand that was held out against her now holding onto her wrist so she can't see the carnage on the canvas of his skin. it's fine, he almost wants to say it now, even against her wishes, so he keeps the words clenched between his pearl molars, swallowing with the rest of his guilt like facing the damn thing alone in the first place. for even believing that he could have the strength to do it on his own. as if he was great, like a descendent should, the son of a weapon can't even best his worst demon yet. "i thought i was stronger than it," he fights through the pain, grits out between clenched teeth, the metallic taste of his blood on his tongue. "i thought i was better. i thought i could end it all. i thought-" he grunts out in pain when jesse suddenly seem to appear, as if sensing the stench of war in the room from the car in the parking lot. the antichrist doesn't have the ability to heal, which weights heavily in the room between the brothers. "i'm sorry," ben says now, almost choking back a sob now, broken down by the weight of his undoing. "i thought i could do it."

"i told you to never look in there." the yellow file is forcibly shut and removed from calliope's reach, the contents shifting inside, the same ones that he could know from touch alone after countless nights of pouring himself over the case file of his mother. to see firsthand the wreckage and carnage of the shapeshifter, fueled by a path that is destined to ruin the braeden. he shoves the folder to the bottom of his duffle bag, where it usually remains, save for the previous night when ben nursed several glasses of whiskeys and wanted to open the file again after months. "you don't need t' see that." @darknesshunted.

ben holds the phone closer to his ear as a deep sigh exhales from the cavern of his chest, shadows cast over his war torn features as the barely lit streetlamp stands alone with ben outside of the roadhouse. in a stark contrast from outside their walls, the bar seemed to be thriving, bustling alive with hunters and regulars alike who don't realize whose company they are in. someone is singing on the karaoke terribly, the cracks of the man's voice heard from even at the parking lot, where ben leans against the camaro. the braeden made plans to surprise wallace with a visit, something that he needed calliope to push him to do, his anxiety acting as a blockade to his storm of emotions flooding his system. "i dunno," he murmurs, a change in his attitude, the motivation and confidence now stripped away. it is not as though he would think wallace wouldn't be happy to see him; rather the opposite, much like the bidding excitement of knowing that the blonde was mere feet away rather than states away enough to keep the braeden anchored in the parking lot, rather than just driving away. foolish boy, don't you know you are poison? rotten to the core? ben grits his teeth together, taking in another deep sigh. "it'll all get too messy." or worse, it's wallace that ben will find in his room, covered too much in red that he won't tell where the harvelle begins and the blood ends. "i should just come back, this is stupid."