#writober2018

           Daisy toyed with her zippo, standing on the corner of Fairmont and 4th. The brief bursts of flame keeping her fingers warm before extinguishing it and starting the process all over again. This had to be the corner. She’d never gotten a location wrong before. Darcy had sent the memo not even seven minutes ago. She had huffed it over here, expecting to find the rest of her team already there.            Annoyed, she opened her phone again and checked the message. “Fairmont and 4th, five minutes. Or the boss will fire you. –D. Carling.”            She rolled her eyes, always that same threat. As if the boss could really afford to lose their best team. Without them, their success rate would still be in the low fifties instead of up in the high eighties. The rest of the percentage was filled with the mediocrity of the new teams. Within a month of their training they had become the senior team. The truth of their new company only being revealed at the last second.             They weren’t just a shipping company, they offered all kinds of fun services. Wasn’t that exciting? Didn’t you just love that you’d sold your soul to the proverbial devil?            Fine. Whatever it took to get her family out of the debt they’d dug themselves into. Her parents lived in fear of being taken away from her brothers. It was up to her to free them. And every paycheck went to them. Almost twelve hundred dollars a job. That times two every month. Within the next year they would be free of the debtors. And Daisy? Well, she could never see them again.            She checked her watch, in two minutes the rest of her team was going to be very late. Again she read over the message, triple checking this was the right place. This time she also read the recipients line. Surprise passed over her mind as she realized she was the only one who had received the message.            What in the world did that mean?            Anxiety spiked inside her. If she was the only this meeting was for then who was she meeting?            Quickly, she shot off a text message to Nick and Bella. She needed someone to know her last whereabouts. In case… well in case she didn’t come back from whatever this was. Maybe this was Darcy’s way of getting rid of her. Why, she couldn’t begin to try and guess at. Then again, she made a point of not trying to understand anything about her bosses.            Her phone dinged, a message from Bella. And two seconds after one from Nick. Bella’s was frantic.            “Do you need me to come get you?”            “No… But if I don’t message you again in an hour just… come find me.”            As for Nick… Well…            “I’m on my way. Don’t move.”            And there was no point in trying to persuade him otherwise.            She could always count on him to take care of her. And everyone else on their team. They’d been paired together since the beginning of their journey with the G.O.D.S. organization. As a family, they took care of each other. No matter what happened they had each other’s backs. That included being back up for sketchy deals with their own company.            “Miss Lang, I presume,” A voice said behind her.            Daisy spun around to face a tall man in a black three piece suit. He had a deep purple bowtie and a pocket watch hanging out of his vest pocket. He smiled down at her, his teeth shining in the afternoon sun. One hand was tucked neatly in his pocket, a cane hanging from his elbow. The other hand held a notebook open.            “Who wants to know?”            The man’s smile widened. “An interested party.” He made a note in his book and tucked it into his jacket pocket. He slipped the cane off his elbow and rested on it, leaning forward so their faces were almost level.            Daisy began to calculate how far she could get if she needed to run. What were her exits and which one would carry her farthest away. She didn’t need to get home, she just needed to lose him. Her best bet really would be to scale the building beside them, but she’d never been good at climbing. That was Lena’s specialty. Okay so not the building. What was option two? Run into the street? Pray the cars didn’t hit her but were numerous enough to slow down the man with a cane. Maybe… The alleys around here were all dead ends. She needed an open space.            “You want to acquire some kind of object?” She asked, trying to keep him occupied while her mind made an escape plan.            “Hm… you could say that.”            She hated the tone in his voice. She hated the slimy residue it left on her skin.            “Well, the organization I represent can get you a fair price on any shipment. What did you have in mind?”            Keep with the sells pitch. Keep him talking. Make him put his guard down and then attack. Just like you were trained.            All she’d have to do was kick his cane out from under him and smash his face into her knee the moment he lost balance. That would make his head spin and give her at least ten seconds to dash away.            Darcy would be pissed at her for losing a client, but he wasn’t worth the money. She’d make it up to him somehow. Rob a bank or something. Besides, this guy didn’t seem good for the cash. He was dressed fancy but the ends of his coat were fraying and his shoes had scuffmarks.            No way did this guy have the kind of cash for whatever it was he wanted.            “This would be… a kind of special delivery,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her arm.            Panic shot through her and she grabbed his arm, twisting it around to pin it behind his back. The cane clattered to the ground and she shoved him up against the marble building. He let out a muffled cry of alarm, his face now smashed into the wall.            “Don’t you dare touch me. I am not for sell you piece of crap,” she said. “I’m the delivery girl, if you want a package you gotta go through the proper channels.”            “Darcy said-“            “I don’t care what he said. He isn’t here. I make the rules in this deal. You understand?”            He wriggled against her, twisting this way and that. Trying in vain to loosen her grip. “Let me go you bitch.”            She clucked her tongue at him. “Such language. That will get you nowhere in life. I should just kill you right now.”            “Help! Help this thing is assaulting me,” He cried.            For a brief moment she thought maybe someone might try and stop her. She looked around, but there was no one on the streets at this hour. No one respectable at least. If they saw a guy shoved up against a wall, it meant he’d deserved it.            The glories of the city.            “This thing won’t kill you, if you just say please,” she said, sweet and unassuming.            All the fight went out of him. Realizing that no one was going to come to his aid. He slumped against the wall with a soft whimper of pain. “I-I’m sorry. P-please let me go.”            Daisy smiled and released his arm, pushing him into the wall as she stepped back. Without hesitation he recomposed himself and straightened his jacket. He dust off his vest, looking over his outfit with great care. Finally he smoothed down his hair and spat at her feet.            “Such poor service. Darcy will be hearing my complaints,” he said and picked his cane up off the pavement.            “Good,” Daisy said. “I’m sure he’d love to hear how you tried to lay hands on one of his star employees. Please, go on and tell him. It will be your word against mine.”            “You’re a beast.”            Daisy giggled and twirled her hair, “oh please. There’s no need for flattery.”            He let out a huff and stalked away, looking back only once to make sure she wasn’t following. The farther away he got, the faster he walked until he was all but sprinting down the street.            When he turned the corner out of sight, Daisy opened her phone. As she was typing a very strongly worded message to Darcy, Nick came careening around the corner. He reached her, placing his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. When he could stand up again he leaned against the wall and said,            “I’m here.”            “Yeah, two minutes too late,” she said, though not with anger.            Nick winced and ran his fingers through his hair, “sorry I was… up at 24th and Pine. I had to run all the way here.” He keeled over again and put his head between his knees.            “Oh sweetie please calm down. You’re going to make yourself sick. I’m fine, just some scumbag not understanding what it is we do.”            She finished her message to Darcy and dropped down beside him. He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned against him. It had been awhile since she’d had a close call like that. It used to happen a lot, now she barely worried about it. Nick hugged her tight and placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.            Over their weeks in training he’d become the big brother she’d never had.            They sat there for a few minutes, recovering from the adrenaline. Two minutes in she got a reply from Darcy.            “Yes we’ve had problems with him before. Promised he would behave this time. We agreed since he can pay well but… you know how it is. I knew you could handle it. Well done, Lang.”            Daisy dropped her phone and buried her face in her knees. God she hated him. Nick didn’t ask but tightened his arms around her while she silently cried.            This is for your family… this is for your family…  

Day 4- Ashes            Shanley crouched in the grass, her face glued to the house in front of them. Her childhood home had clouds of smoke curling their way into an overcast sky. Her hands were pressed into the spiky blades under her while the ashen pieces of the burning house fluttered around her lazily.            The smoke that eventually reached her found its way to her throat and choked her slowly. She coughed, haggard and deep from her stomach. Still she refused to move.            Arya’s hand rested heavy on her shoulder. Shanley didn’t look up. That was fine. Arya and Casey were here to help and support her. The two with her couldn’t possibly understand the thoughts and feelings that were going through her mind and body.            It wasn’t their house. It wasn’t their childhood. It wasn’t their crime scene.            Not exactly at least.            Right now it was, but the original crime had been Shanley’s alone.            This whole thing had been Arya’s idea. She was of the opinion that everything could be solved by just getting rid of it. Burn the house, burn the memories, and burn the guilt. She’d done it herself after all. Sure that had been over a century ago, it worked.            At this rate, Shanley would try anything to get rid of the aching horror that had carved its way inside. She was a host for all the pain her family must have felt, for all the guilt she was now cursed with for being the one that had done it. They were dead, dead because of some stupid fight they’d had. A stupid fight that had rested heavily on her subconscious the same night as the full moon. The first time she’d turned.            Arya could imagine that guilt. She’d been the cause of her own family’s deaths. Sure in her case it hadn’t been her fault exactly, but the guilt was still there. Sometimes. She’d gotten remarkably good at turning her feeling off.            Sobs rose up and echoed out over the empty cul-de-sac. If anyone was home they didn’t notice the three figures watching the burning house. They didn’t even notice the burning house that, under normal circumstances, might have spelled disaster for the rest of their homes and manicured lawns.            But not tonight.            Not with a fire being carefully contained by a witch. No one would even notice the house until it was simply rubble and charred pieces and when the three of them had hightailed it back to Salmon Creek. Far away from the middle class public and humans who dominated the whole area.            “We should get going,” Arya said.            Shanley didn’t answer, her crying eyes hyper-focused on the fire. The top floor had caved in and the house was just a pile of kindling now. The structural integrity finally giving out. The police tape that still surrounded the house was starting to melt too. The plastic creating an acrid burn that made the three scrunch their noses in disgust.            Casey and Arya exchanged a glance, worried that Shanley hadn’t heard them. That this had done more bad than good. She’d just been so sad lately, moping around the house, ignoring her studies, refusing to take Gwen’s calls. It was causing suspicion in the town. And while most of the residents of Salmon Creek were Mystics, the humans at the school had started asking questions.            It was bad exposure.            The cops were at their house enough on calls of loud noises and disturbances. They could only be satiated for so long. It was hard enough having a new werewolf in the house, and there was only so much an inexperienced witch and a seasoned vampire could do. Only so much they knew how to handle.            “Can you make it go faster?” Arya asked Casey.            Casey’s eyebrows knit together. “Only if you want me to drop the cloaking spell. I can only do so much at once. I don’t have an infinite pool of energy.”            Groaning, Arya dropped down onto the grass and leaned against Shanley. “You holding up okay, Lassie?”            Shanley shrugged, resting her head on top of Arya’s but still staring at the house. “I feel kind of empty.”            “That’ll pass.”            That made her look over. She frowned at Arya and asked softly, “did it pass for you?”            Arya forced a smile and hugged the weeping girl tightly “it sure did. It sure did.”            A loud crash made them all look up as the house’s last level gave out and the entire building sat in what used to be the basement. Shanley let out a shuddering breath and curled her body against Arya’s thin frame.            Casey dropped her hands then and the fire burned on. It would until the entire house was just black ash. Maybe the occasional support beam or piece of tile left to remind the residents of the cul-de-sac that yes this had once been a house.            The night air must have been cold, but none of them felt it. The heat from the house permeated several feet around it on all sides. The beautiful three storey homes began to light up as the residents smelled the smoke. They poked their heads out, cellphones in hand. Yelling to each other that “its fine I got!”            Arya smirked at the thought of twenty white suburban moms calling the fire department and bemoaning how ugly their neighbourhood was going to look now. Served them right for the way they ostracized Shanley afterwards.            Without even remembering how sweet she was, they had instantly believed that she was guilty. Deranged and guilty.            Even when it had come out that wounds looked like they’d been done by some kind of wild animal. Yes, Shanley had been the wild animal, but these sensitive idiots really believed that she had done it herself. Not that their opinions mattered much, she’d ended the court case viewed as a survivor, covered in blood and scratches. And so that was how she’d been charged, locked in a psych ward to get help for the obvious trauma. Only, the trauma they were treating her for hadn’t been correct.            Thank all the powers of the universe Arya had found her when she had.            “We really should get going now,” Arya said.            She stood up, helping the crying Shanley to her feet. Casey nodded and wrapped her coat tightly around herself.            It must be really cold if even the fire wasn’t keeping her warm anymore.            Arya was always cold, both from being undead and just… leftover poor circulation from when she was alive. It was a curse, one she had just learned to deal with. She wore large coats almost all the time, but it was never enough.            “I’ll drive,” Casey said when they reached the car. “You stay with Shanley okay?”            Arya nodded and helped the girl in the car. Shanley buckled her seatbelt and looked back out the window at her house. The world outside was now raining ashes, some of it was caught in her hair.            Casey revved the engine and pulled away from the scene. The further away they drove, the more she seemed to relax. The cloaking spell was dropping.            “You’re gonna be okay kiddo,” Arya said to Shanley.            Shanley nodded numbly.            God Arya hoped she was right.

           Arya crossed her arms, for once the glare not directed at Casey but at Shanley. The one who could do no wrong in her eyes. “I think you should reconsider.”            “Good thing it doesn’t matter what you think.”            “Why are you being so stubborn?”            Shanley didn’t answer, she walked away and her footsteps stomped up the stairs. A door slammed, finishing the argument. Going to bed angry never helped anyone, but Casey had learned long ago that any attempts to force people to make up only ended in more tears. An endless loop of screaming back and forth, using her as the messenger.            She’d thought those days were over.            Arya crashed onto the couch, face in her hands. Her shoulders weren’t shaking, and no sobs left her mouth. She was distressed, but refused to show any further weakness than the exhaustion overtaking her body.            Casey sighed, taking a seat beside her. She rested a hand on her shoulder. A futile attempt at comfort. In any other household this would just be a case of teenage rebellion. Fighting against the machine, the parents, over some miniscule thing that in the long run really wouldn’t have any impact on the development of the youth.            This, however, was far from any other household.            Arya and Casey weren’t parents. One of them was still high school just like Shanley. The other, well they had only started living with other people again within the last five years. As the youngest of their group, Shanley needed to think about her future.            The three of them were doing their best to support her and help her learn about what it meant to be a werewolf. How to make the shift each month easier, how to stop from hurting yourself or other people. Which metals or herbs were harmful, the usual stuff. But they could only do some much second hand research. No matter what, Shanley would still be a lone wolf. She would still be without a real pack.            Ryan had been by several times to try and coax her to join their pack. With them she’d be able to learn more about the history of werewolves, how to protect herself, and she’d gain protection through the pack. The benefits greatly outweighed the cons. She could still live here if she really wanted to, though most of them had a community together in one of the old frat houses just outside of town.            Every time he came by she turned him away. He left looking like a wounded puppy the first time, but now he left with a new resolve in his jaw.            There had to be something happening with the pack. He wouldn’t be so desperate to bring her in if everything was completely fine. The pack had never had problems before, but the old Alpha had died not too long ago. Ryan had been the beta at the time. Now that he’d taken over, the pack had much more influence in the town. Dominic had told her that meetings between the leaders of the Mystics had grown quite entertaining. As the second in command of her coven he got to sit in on all of them with Celia.            Arya lifted her head and met Casey’s eyes. She looked tired, which for a vampire was not a good look. She wrapped her arms around Casey, curling against her with a bone tired sigh. Without having to be asked Casey used her magic to warm her body. Having a fire affinity had so many benefits when you lived with a vampire who despised being cold.            “I don’t know how to help her,” Arya said.            “That’s the thing, we can’t help her. I think deep down she knows that too.”            Arya pulled back enough to look Casey in the eye. “So then why the hell is she resisting this so much? What is she doing?”            Casey shook her head, there wasn’t a concrete answer. They were dealing with someone who had a lot of trauma, whatever her reasons were they couldn’t begin to understand. Maybe she was afraid of moving, maybe she didn’t believe that the pack really could help her. There were too many angles to consider.            Upstairs a stereo started to play. Bass filled angry music that only Gwen could have shown her. The punk queen of Salmon Creek spreading her influence.            Maybe Gwen was the reason she didn’t want to move.            “We should talk to Ryan,” Arya said.            “Is that so?”            She nodded. “He’ll be able to give us some more information. Without little miss “I know better” standing behind us shutting down everything he says.”            It made sense. Of course it made sense. There was just one little thing that worried her. “What if Shanley finds out? We’re going behind her back to talk to the person who essentially wants to take her away from us. What will that look like to her?”            “Right now, I don’t care.”            “Yes you fucking do. Don’t lie to me.”            “Yeah well, I want what’s best for her more.”            Arya stood up and left the living room. She began putting on her shoes at the front door. Casey stayed seated. This plan was setting up a whole stream of misunderstandings and there was no way she would betray Shanley like this. Even if that wasn’t their intentions. She knew how it felt to be unwanted.            Her friend entered the room again, hands on her hips. “You coming?”            Casey eyed her over. The brilliant anger behind her eyes. Her short hair spiking up at all ends too match that fury. The dark curtains behind her shut out the fading sunlight, giving the room a warm but dimmed glow. She looked like a real vampire. Shadowed and ominous.            “If you could see yourself right now, you wouldn’t be going anywhere.”            Arya deflated. Shoulders rolling in and head hanging low over her chest. She dropped to the knock off Persian rug on the floor and crossed her legs. Her arms rested on her knees and head back in her hands.            The music upstairs stopped, and the squeak of a door opening followed. They listened intently as socked footsteps moved across the upstairs hardwood, growing steadily louder until the staircase creaked and Shanley’s tall form stood in the doorframe between the living room and the entrance way.            None of them spoke. The silence in the air was thick and full of unresolved arguments. Some of them would never be addressed again, some of them would. In time they would all fade to unimportance in the grand scheme of life.            Shanley hopped over the back of the couch and settled in beside Casey. She folded her hands in her lap and gave them each a pointed look.            “I’m not joining Ryan’s pack.”            “We know, you’ve made that exuberantly clear,” Arya said not bothering to look up.            “Shut up and let me finish,” Shanley said. “I’m fine being a “lone wolf.” I’m fine not having all the answers. I’ve lived like this for over a year now. I don’t need him to tell me how to be a werewolf. We have a pretty solid system.”            Casey would have argued that a dungeon in the basement with chains and a cage, a tray full of apple juice and raw meat was not at all a solid system. Still, she understood what Shanley was trying to say.            Taking a deep accepting breath, she continued. “I will however start going to the pack meetings. I’ll get to know the other wolves in town. I’m now part of two pack species. I need to be with those who can… understand me. But you guys are my real family, I’ve already found my pack and I’m not going to join another.”            “That’s sappy,” Arya muttered, but her voice broke halfway through the last word.            “Yeah well so are you.”            Arya laughed and crawled over to squish in between Shanley and Casey. They laughed and hugged her tightly, warming her and offering healing to each other. No matter what happened or changed they would always need each other. And the world outside would just have to learn to deal with that.            No one was really a lone wolf.            They all had some family. Their own pack.            

           Lena stumbled out of the safe house, her shoes barely on her feet. The woman who had pushed her stood in the doorframe. Watching her scramble to stay standing, half dressed in the winter air.            “And stay out,” she said, slamming the door in her face.            Lena flipped her the bird, getting only some satisfaction from it. If no one was around to see, what impact did it have? She should be grateful for the time she’d spent there. It had been home for at least a little bit. Three months in a house was better than three months on the street. Which, incidentally, was what she faced now.            Go figure.            She forced herself to stand up, wrapping her thin cardigan tighter around her. This was life after the war. The second depression had cleaned out any chances of making a solid living. Ever since they’d “won” the war she’d been on her own.             Her family dead after a bomb had been dropped on their house. She should have died with them. She should have been home. Instead she’d been out with friends, drinking who knows what, and sleeping with who the fuck cares.            All her friends had abandoned her. Or they were dead in a ditch somewhere. There wasn’t a difference anymore.             Tomorrow it would be back to the unemployment line, ready to snatch up any mediocre half ass paying job they had to offer. Whether she had the experience for it or not. It was first come first served. She could learn on the job. Besides, those skills might do her well later on. Give her a greater chance of getting hired on as a fulltime worker.            Maybe one day she could move out of her tarp covered cardboard box for good. Her paper mansion.            Better than nothing though, so that’s where her feet were taking her. Intuitively she followed the streets through the crumbling city where the streetlamps were all extinguished. People prowled around, searching for somewhere to sleep, maybe someone to keep them warm. Her shoes made soft clicks on the pavement, the wind whistling through her skin. Her teeth were clenched to stop from chattering, but didn’t stop her arms from shivering.            No one gave her a second look. She was a ghost among them. Just as lost and forgotten in the grand scheme of the world. Maybe the pieces that were left of her would be blown away during the night. She would fade into nothingness without a single person to mourn her. That sounded nice.            She turned her face towards the sky, taking in the first quarter moon, surrounded by stars that gave the illusion of comfort. They’d survived for so long, through every war and every human tragedy they stayed blinking down at them in shame. Or maybe pity.            Then again, in the brief schooling she’d had her science teacher had said that every star they could see was already dead. Their light just took a long time to reach them. A fading echo of a once brilliant display.            One day, the stars that were seen today wouldn’t even exist. They wouldn’t even be remembered. Especially if the libraries kept burning. All the records and star charts just…gone in the blink of an eye.            Just like her. Just like every other person on this planet.            That was the comfort.            She turned down the last street and then into an alley that was covered in garbage. Cardboard boxes and scrap metal lined the two sides with barely enough room to walk. She tactfully climbed over them, checking behind her every so often to make sure no one was following. When she reached the end she cast one more look around. Satisfied that she was alone she faced the five foot wooden fence in front of her.            Bending her knees she leapt into the air, grabbing hold of the smooth edge of its top. Swinging her legs over the barrier she gracefully landed on the other side. There, sheltered by yet another fence and two buildings was her humble home. A blue tarp, gone grey and faded from all the dirt and sunlight it had been exposed to over the years, covering a crude structure of a cardboard house. The tarp kept it dry and kind of warm. For extra warmth she had a fraying wool blanket that itched but didn’t have holes and an old mattress she’d found in the dump.            These were all her possessions. The only items she could lay claim to, not including the clothes on her back. And even then, those were getting small and thin. She’d have to steal some new ones once she’d had a warm meal. That would have to wait until tomorrow though. For now, she crashed onto the mattress and pulled the blanket up over her tired form.            She looked out at the faint bit of sky she could see and watched the dead stars twinkle. They didn’t speak, but she understood. This wouldn’t be her forever. One day she would either catch a break or die and then her suffering would be over. Both were good options.            A streak of brilliant light flashed across the sky and Lena remembered the stories her grandmother had used to tell her about shooting stars.            Childhood nonsense. But what else did she have except the fading memories of her family’s faces and stories.            “I wish… I wish for…a good lasting and paying job.”            Her voice barely a whisper over the silence of the poor city. The star blinked out of existence, to who knew where. Lena sighed, cursing herself for believing in fairy tales. She rolled over and closed her eyes. Tomorrow she would go down to the employment line and just beg them to give her some work.            She had maybe fifty dollars saved from her last paycheck. The bitch hadn’t bothered to give her severance. That’s what happened when you were so insecure. She’d really believed that Lena had been sleeping with her husband.            Like she’d ever touch someone so old.            Whatever. Her loss.            Lena knew that she could do better. And she would do better.                    Somehow.