Decisions (Werewolf story)

[Zerrif]

(Okay, something that's been eating away at the back of my mind...)

He said he would quit. He promised he would quit. He vowed that he was going to quit. And yet, here he was, staring down at the empty bottle in his hands. He clenched a hand around the neck of the bottle, wishing he could fill back up, either by turning back time, or stuffing all of his self-hatred right at that moment into the bottle. He let out a small growl at himself and was about to take the container and throw it at the door, when it burst open.

Instead, the bottle dropped, and shattered on the ground with a loud clamour. He blinked stupidly at the form in the door, and just shifted around slightly from his seated position on the bed. The form began to walk in; slow, heavy step after slow, heavy step. Those dull thuds soon became a pitter-patter, as the form began to pick up speed, running straight at him.

In truth, he was staring down the hallway that led to his bedroom, the bedroom door having been left open, staring right at the front door. In truth, he was staring at not just some stranger, but a familiar figure. In truth, despite the fear that ran through his body, he couldn't do much more than wallow in his self pity. He stared at the shards of glass on the ground, feeling like it was some sort of disgusting representation of his self-being.

The form was in the air when he looked up now. The contorted, ferocious, visceral lupine form was flying straight at him. He probably would have reacted, though with his abilities hampered how badly they were, it was all he could do to brace for impact. He fell back against the bed, feeling like he'd fallen on the hard ground outside, as if he'd been tackled by the largest bull.

He winced in pain as he felt claws dig into his shoulders, and he just stared up. Confusion hit him now, why was this happening? Why was all of this--

"YOU PROMISED!" The form howled at him. The voice was gnarly and beast-like in it's anger, but there was that familiar undertone to it. He blinked, and stared up, unable to speak past the pain that gurgled up in his throat. Instead, he writhed, and could only find himself able to cry. "YOU..."

"So... did you..." Was all he mumbled. He felt the claws slacken lightly, but they didn't quite draw themselves out of his shoulders. "Why... why do you think I've... You just up and leave me when--" He began to blubber.

A pause. Of all the things that could have happened, there was a pause.

"... I-I..." The wolf seemed to shrink back slightly. He let out anther cry as those claws drew them out of his shoulders-- but for some reason, it didn't hurt as much as he figured it would. It was probably dulled by all the alcohol that had gotten into him. "... Tonight was the last... there's no one left..."

"... No one, but me." He said it kind of afraid of what he just said.

"You're safe. The pack swore--"

"Can you believe them? Really?" He shouted at the wolf. "Just because I'm your mate, that means nothing! I'm not one of them-- and I refuse to be!" He quickly added, at the end.

"I swear to you, I will keep you safe." The wolf leaned down, and surprisingly, cut the tension with an affectionate lick up his cheek. It was like the fierce beast before him became a puppy.

A puppy he loved.

"F-Fia..." He mumbled, reaching up to crane an arm limply around the wolf's "neck". He remembered how only weeks before, he could have done this with his loved one-- but back then, she was normal. She was... a human.

Before she could make some other sort of affectionate gesture, there was a growl from the front door. The werewolf turned to look over her shoulder, seeing two more in the doorway.

"Rian! Aeric! What are you two-- No! He's safe! Tiberion promised--" The wolf shouted.

"He's the last one. We wipe him out, we're free. Nothing to worry about, at all. Screw what our older brother says, he's ours!" The wounded human couldn't do anything but just stare and watch as the hallway became a flurry of fur, and blood.

---

"F-Fia...?" He didn't even know when he'd fallen asleep.

"Shhh. It's alright, Cameron." He looked up to see Fia still transformed, although there were patches of fur gone. Whether it was from the fight, or if it was her slowly changing back didn't seem to faze her-- for all she cared, with Cameron cradled in her arms, she had to keep going.

"Y-your br--" He stopped. He could already tell by the amount of blood that was caking her fur. "..."

"We-We're..." She mumbled, stopping to look down. "We're free. Just... just you and me."

"Fia..."

"I love you."