#fantasy ff

“I was jus…Uhm.” It wasn’t in my nature to lie, let alone at the benefits of my own. His chestnut brown eyes were fixed onto me, awaiting for an answer, and one with substantial reasoning at that.

“I was gonna go ho—” I was cut off by the sharp suck of his teeth. He rolled onto his back and threw his legs over the edge of the bed before standing to his feet. Michael towered, height was one of the characteristics of being an archangel, though it was quite embarrassing for me when I get picked up like a crying infant.

“Don't pull that home crap with me. You're sneaking now, Nauh? Now you're bullshiting me. You said that the last time and disappeared for months.”. It wasn’t completely a fallacy, the last time I found myself in matters that were to be taken care of, leaving little to no time for Michael. Yet, there was discussion of this before of why we needed space, one of the important being that if anyone of our family were to find out, death would be a result. Michael just seemed to have selective hearing and a suicide wish, I assume.

The weak sense of security flowed both ways in the loosely defined relationship, so I was not surprised by his question, however I was taken back that he would just blatantly ask me. “Why are you doing this? We do this all the time. You know the limitations. You know them, Michael," I countered, hopeful that he’d catch the message and fall back from this unneeded argument.

"Because, Nauh..." he sighed and moved over to me, influencing a pit of butterflies in my stomach whenever he got near to me. As he pulled into an embrace, I tightened my arms on my clothes and his expression grew hard, but his eyes read a more hurt tale. He didn't finish his statement as though I knew what he was about to say. It was hard to remember that archangels had a sensitivity to emotions, they felt deeper and harder than any creature I’ve encountered, and that to me was dangerous.

“Michael, I have to go… I just need to be sure. I don’t want us to get in any trouble,” I assured. His countenance remained unaltered, yet he released his grip and I continued, “ This isn’t a forever thing.”

And on that note, I exited his apartment. Relishing on it, I was harsh, but sometimes I had to be that way to snap him from this fantasy world he lived in. The reality of things are that what we had was unethical as it is and dwelling in hopes for a future was just naive. We both had bigger things to worry about.

After doing the awkward task of getting dressed in my car, I pulled off and headed to the shop. Lucifer had given us refuge and an identity to maintain at the tattoo shop in the middle of the city. Like the elder generations of packs, we all had a sub task to be blend into the common skirts of society. We were given a tattoo shop, as well as a nightclub that Aiden supervised. It was simple, well for me it was, get up, go to work, and at night, hunt.

I arrived at the shop and Aiden was standing out front, dressed in all black with a joint resting on her ear that seemed to aid in her cool girl look. She held the blunt between her lips, inhaling with ease and exhaling the dense cloud through her nostrils, a bold gesture on the heavily populated streets.

"Hey Aiden. Shane in?" I questioned walking up to the front door of the tattoo shop.

For a moment, she took the blunt from her lips and held between her fingers, blowing the smoke in my direction, "Nope, her and Penelope went to get our dinner. It's been slow so you didn't miss out on shit. Lucifer called and he wants 5 souls by next week though. You and me will be making the run."

Though I'd rather be cooped up in bed for the rest of the week, I wouldn't dare miss out on a mission. I gave her a nod of acknowledgement and walked into the shop.

One rule in the world of honest lycanthropy: do what he tells you, and do it right. There was no alternative way of following directions no matter how nefarious or bizarre. I, of course, seemed to be the only one in this pack of fuckfaces to understand this basic concept. I’m the only one who enjoyed life and wanted to continue living. Yet, time after time, I'm the one saving their asses and catching the wind of wrath when they decide to take matters into their own hands.

Especially Penelope's ass.

Since the beginning of her reign as a wolf, she's caused nothing but mischief on purgatory, and hell as well. A long and healthy stroke of ego that one had. To think I changed and abetted her in the reach of her potential, to only get paid in torturous nights because she couldn't follow simple rules. Continuously she abused her gift for nothing but worse. Bodies left careless out in the woods, some victim to her hunger, others victim to her pleasure. I was there to clean up her mess and of course she'd show little sympathy, flutter those pretty lashes, and repeat the cycle.

We, the werewolves, and specifically my pack, have one job given to us, and that's collect the souls from purgatory and send them to hell. Purgatory being the nowhere and the nothingness between hell and heaven, or to many and more simpler minds, Earth. Lucifer values purgatory for it's supply of souls and recruits. When I was a child he explained the importance of the humans and their inner beings, the power they held inside was grand and more than anything I've ever known about.

The pack and I were chosen through a line of generations that trailed back into the beginning of time. When Lucifer had fallen, he wanted vengeance, warriors that sought nothing but the fall of the one that banished him for eternity and rise of their sullen king. So, he made beasts, stronger and more baneful than the soldiers of heaven. or as the humans refer to us as, werewolves. Our ancestors hailed in Africa as rich and powerful beings, Kings and Queens that knew the feeling of domination and survival. Of course, only those that knew of their gift were themselves and those they chose to confide in.

We are the sixth generation. Werewolves live for hundreds of years if done right. Many have died by the hands of nature, the archangels, and Lucifer himself. There was always work to be done so long as the humans roamed in purgatory, but there is no faith that there is no end to the lives of the supernatural.

So I kept it reclusive and made sure everyone kept themselves exclusive. The less, the better when it came to pack life. Shane and Nauh were the most mysterious pair of wolves I've ever met, which also meant they were obedient, and stuck to their job. Penelope, complete fucking opposite. The task of pulling my own teeth seemed simpler than handling that delinquent.

When Nauh showed up for work that day, I was relieved to see his face almost. He disappeared for days at a time and though it is my job to keep track of the pack, I assumed he was just exploring the playing field. There was nothing wrong with Wolves dwelling in the pleasures of humans, so long it doesn't interfere with Lucifer's plan ahead.

I finished the joint in 20 minutes tops and threw the bit left in the nearest trash. Walking into the shop, the constant buzzing sound of needle against flesh rung in my ears and I smiled with satisfaction. The tattoo shop was my priority. I considered it home in both the literal and nonliteral cases. Tattooing had grown to be my passion over the past 40 years, and as cliche as it sounds, the needle has grown to become an extension of my hand.

I looked over the counter and seen Lilith bent over a client, working an outline of prayer hands into their thigh. She was the assistant to both me and Lucifer. Not necessarily pack material, but she fell into the category of a fallen angel. Her story was buried deep and whenever it was questioned, it was quickly deflected.

"Hey Lily. Doing alright?"

She gave me a small nod in response, seeming to be too invested in her work to acknowledge me fully.

Then again the insistent buzzing sound took place of sound in the shop. Nauh came out of the back room, absorbed in a heated argument. I let out a sigh, deciding to involve myself in matters that seemed more entertaining than this. Walking into the back room that Nauh just exited from, I slipped one of the pre-rolled blunts from behind my ear, deciding to intensify the glim buzz that the one before had given me.

“What the fuck…” I dragged, this waiting starting to irritate me thoroughly. It was the end of what seems to be a social at a local high school, and these kids were drunk and dumb enough to walk home as though they were immortal. They were causing commotion, asking for altercations just to chew at the person with slick comebacks and harsh words. They were walking down the long road, basically asking for me to take a bite of their throat hickey painted throats, but Shane had other plans.

She of course wanted to go with the plan. Get dinner, go home. No if ands or buts.

I remember putting on the act of believing in the theory that life could never end for me. I partied, drank, popped pills, and was a menace for my parents. Now, I only went harder. Because I was really immortal. And nobody could touch me.

I caught eyes with one of the pubescent fuckers, a young boy with dark skin and keen hazel eyes. His walk was swaggered and long, it had to be the liquor.  It was obvious that he was oozing with confidence from the way he boldly shot a crooked, yet charming smile at me. I laughed to myself and looked over at Shane, hoping to taunt the pitifully entertainer, but like always, she had her mind set on ignoring my friendly advances onto her.

Shane was one of the ones I liked the most in the pack, she seemed to know her priorities and didn’t mix her business with pleasure, but she had a tendency to be a bit dry. It was almost impossible to crack a smile onto this one’s face no matter how inappropriate my jokes are.

“Can we have one of them?” I watched how they laughed, falling over each other with haunting smiles.

Shane sighed softly, pushing from off the hood of the car, leaving my question unanswered.

“Shane, talk to me. I’m gonna have to start getting desperate,” I cooed, stepping into her personal space, my red stiletto nails grazing down her bare arm. She tightened her jaw and snatched from my touch, almost disgusted by my affection. I wasn’t surprised, she had this whole ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe down to the tip.

“Ugh! You’re such a fucking bore.” I pushed past her, walking into the woods behind her. The trees were gigantic compared to my petite physique, the woods made me feel small and powerful all at once. Aiden told me many tales of wolves and the forests, how there was a bit of connection between us.

As I slid my nails against the ragged edge of a tree, the sounds of meddling teens grasped my attention once again, this time from another direction. They were in the center of the forest, probably crossing to reach their friends near the lone streak of asphalt that lead to the city. On the other side, about three miles out, there was the rival town. It made me wonder if they walked over here voluntarily as if there wasn’t access to such thing as a fucking vehicle. Children.

A more prominent thought dawned on me, like how it was a whole meal laid out to be eaten. It was the perfect timing and they were as vulnerable and frightened as they should be. I’ve always assumed that humans taste better when they are cowering under you.

Right when I was about to take off, Shane cleared her throat, staring at me with those round and brooding eyes. It was if she was reading my mind in that moment.

I rolled my eyes and placed my hands on my hips, whispering with fierce intention, “I’m fucking hungry, Shane! I’m tired of waiting for you. If I’m hungry, I’m gonna eat okay?”

“They are innoce-”

Throwing my hands up, I cut her off before she could even finish that vile sentence, “Don’t you even go there. You know that’s bullshit. You know it.”

“Penelope.”

We stared at each other, battling each others dominance. Shane looked like she could kill me, but honestly I would let her if it meant she would have her hands around my throat. So I cracked first, pouting in defeat, “How come in order to get you to talk to me I have to be five seconds from killing someone?”

She chuckled under her breath and nodded her head in the direction of the car, “Come on, he’s almost here anyways.”

With that piece of fresh advice, I followed her to the car. “Who’s coming?”

“Emmett.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused being that she said it as if I should know who Emmett was. I remained quiet however, not really interested in who this was.

When we touched the road again, shrieks and screams sounded off not too far down the road. We both turned our heads towards the eruption and Shane took off before I could register the situation in itself.

We charged in our long strides, making it in short time to the gas station just a mile down.

Under the dim lights, of the gas stations, bodies of the teens that passed before were scattered across the ground. Beaten like old packs of cigarettes. There was a mix of iron and oil in the chilled air. The scene was vile, even in my experience as a man-eating beast.The inside of the gas station was trashed and there was a number of them in there as well. Ribs were split and guts laid onto the sandy gravel. Some of the bodies had blood running from their eyes, others had them burnt from their skull.

Shane took cautious steps towards the entrance, scouting through the bodies for a living presence. Her expression read a frustration I’ve never seen before. She seemed confused, unable to pinpoint why and how this could slip past our fingers.

I just stood near the road, unable to find the courage to step forward and approach any of the bodies. In the most simplest definition, it was a massacre. There was no thought put into this act, only a vehemence I could never see myself touching.