Twin Moon - Chapter 201 - Two Years Ago
Whiskey.
I searched the village before it got too dark. It was only a small one. I'd say home to maybe less than sixty. Well, was home to them, not anymore. I did manage to find the pack library after a bit of ransacking. It was quite small, but the books and scrolls were very old, the oldest one dating back six hundred years. It was a journal kept by an Alpha at the time. He had decent handwriting, though my old Russian was a little rusty, so a lot of the text was a mystery to me. The yellowing pages were filled with pictures and diagrams and detailed notes. One word stood out among the rest. Boginya. Goddess. I read through the journal a bit more, until I was fully satisfied. This pack have definitely had contact with the Moon Goddess, or at least one of her descendants. I slipped the journal into my bag to go through more thoroughly another time.
Having a heighten sense of smell is usually a great advantage, but when the bodies start to smell, it feels more like a burden. The scent of their decomposing organs hits me quicker than it would a human. Making that part a definite disadvantage. I wasn’t going to move them or bury them though. In all the years, I have not once felt the internal pull to take care of the bodies. They're dead, they don’t care where they’re bodies lay, so why should I. If I had to guess, I would estimate that about ten got away. I couldn’t know for sure, but I'll stick with ten. And as punishment for letting ten filthy fucking dogs escape, I endured ten lashings. I have never been able to inflict the same severity of punishment upon myself, that my teachers could do to me. But I still manage okay. The extra strength and stamina help. Plus, the accelerated healing means I'm always ready for more, whenever it is needed.
Now I was laying on top of this stranger's really uncomfortable bed, with my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. My back still felt a little tender from my lashings, but the wounds had already closed over. Like I said, benefits of the healing process. When you have changed as often as I have, wounds start to close again instantaneously. Even with all the windows open, it still stunk of dog. The mattress was like a pile of rocks and the open windows weren’t letting enough of the cold in. And of course there is no air conditioning in this crap hole. Nothing was going right for me today. The blue-eyed wolf didn’t come back. Neither did any of the other escapees. Luckily for them. I was in no mood to play nice. I haven’t been able to get those damned eyes out of my head. Each time I close my eyes, they take me back again. Back to a place I don’t want to be. Back to memories that I don’t want to remember. Damn that fucking wolf and his blue fucking eyes.
**Two years ago.**
I scaled the side of the building with ease. The darkness of the alley kept me protected. I hung from the windowsill with one arm as I pulled the pocketknife from my belt. I wedged it between the window frames, and they popped open. You would think that these morons would have better security, the cocky bastards. I placed the knife back in my belt and then twisted around so that I could grab the windowsill with that hand too. I was now hanging from the window with my back against the wall, roughly twelve meters above the ground. If anyone came down the alley now, they would be in for a right surprise. I curled my legs up and over and pushed them through the open window. Once I was in, I crouched down and quickly looked around the room. There was an unmade bed and a tallboy. Nothing else. And by the smell of it, the owner hadn’t been here for a few hours. I pulled one of the two specially made Sai daggers from its holder on my back and crept over to the door. I pressed my ear up against the wood and listened. Voices are coming from the floor below, but I don’t think there is anyone awake up here. I turned the handle and pulled the door slowly open. A loud creak filled the silence, and I froze. I waited to see if anyone else had heard that, and if they were coming to investigate. After a minute, and no one had come, I decided it was clear. I stood up and got my face nice and close to the hinges of the door, and then spat. A little trick I learned a while back. Doesn't work every time, but now and then it creates enough lubrication to quiet the creaking. I went back to the handle and pulled slowly again. This time, no creak. Bingo.
I stepped out of the door and onto the narrow walkway. There were more doors on either side of this one. Probably more bedrooms. It’s a little after three in the morning, so I assume everyone is sleeping, those of them that aren’t on night patrol. Opposite me was a waist high wooden railing. I stepped forward and looked over it. I could see parts of the second floor and another set of stairs that I assume leads to the first floor. I'll get to that soon. I have to clear the top floor first. I crept along the wall, keeping far enough back that I couldn’t been seen by anyone that happened to look up from the second floor. At the next door I paused and listened. I could make out some soft snoring, and only one heartbeat. I carefully pushed open the door and stuck my head in. One person was asleep on their side, facing away from the door. I ducked in, went to the side of the bed and looked down at the sleeping being. The man was older looking. No hair on his head but had a full beard. I could see tattoos all over his neck, leading up to the side of his face. I placed the edge of the dagger at his throat and in one swift movement, I sliced open his neck. His eyes flew open and he rolled over onto his back, he then grabbed at the seeping slice on his neck and looked up at me. Blood poured out all around his fingers and down onto the pillow under his head. As he started to gargle on his own blood, I covered his mouth with my hand to silence the sound. I watched the life drain from his face and he eventually stopped gagging. Grabbing his blanket, I wiped the blood from my hand and blade, then I lifted it over his shoulders to cover his dead body. I left the room and closed the door behind me, then proceeded to do the same thing with the six other sleeping people on the top floor.
After the top floor was clear, I made my way back to the first room. I peered over the railing once again, there was still no sign of movement. There were two empty rooms up here, so they must be around and awake somewhere. I slowly made my way down the stairs, stopping before I came around the corner and onto the landing of the second floor. I could hear movement. Someone was walking this way. I pressed my back against the wall and held my dagger in front of me, ready for the kill. The footsteps stopped and the door next to the stairs opened and then closed again. I leaned my ear against the wall and tried to listen. It was muffled, but I could hear some shuffling around for a moment and then silence. I took a breath and peeked out around the corner. The hallway was dark, and I couldn’t hear anyone else moving about. I went for the door that the person just went through and pushed it open quickly. It creaked at the last second, alerting the man in the bed that someone was here. He sat up and went to turn on the lamp beside the bed. I launched forward, landing on his lap, with one hand over his mouth and the other holding the blade that I just buried into his chest. He grabbed at my hand and tried to pull it from the hilt of the blade. I withdrew the dagger and stabbed it again a little higher on his body. His muffled scream was louder than I would have liked, the stupid prick may have just woken the rest of the floor. I pulled it out again and stabbed it into the side of his neck. This time he didn’t scream. His eyes went wide, and he grabbed his neck. I pulled out the dagger and jumped off his lap and he flopped back down on the bed. Dead.
I turned back to the door, just as another man entered. This one was big. Really big. He filled the whole door frame. He stepped in and I leapt forward. I wrapped my legs around his upper body and gripped hold of his head with my arms, making sure to cover his mouth and nose. He punched at my sides, tried to grab my arms and spun himself around in circles. I would say he resembled a drunk octopus trying to dance. If I was watching from the bed, I probably would have been laughing my ass off. He landed a blow to my ribcage, it hurt, but all it accomplished was making me angry. Things never end well for these dipshits when I get angry. With one hard pull and twist in the right direction, his neck snapped with a satisfying crunch, and the guy dropped to the ground like a sack of shit. I quickly moved to stand next to the open door and waited to see if anyone else heard these two thundering idiots.
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