[ Our World ] discussion

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This is the world belonging to the Bitten group.

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Everything felt dizzy and blurred to Noemie, she could feel the back of her neck warming up, sweat drops rolling down the side underneathe her long hair and her breath was unsteady. She looked down at the men on the floor of the bar in dismay, and fear. She had just felt a change in her, an uncontrollable reaction to destroy, to kill, to annihilate whatever stood in her path that hindered her. She remembered the blood lust that kicked in, her anger overwhelmed her when one of the men had grabbed her, holding her back, fondling her as she had tried to get out of their hold. Now that man was on the floor, spitting blood from the hits he had taken from Noemie.

Why was this happening? She was a girl that even hated to kill cockroaches, she had never gotten into any fights and tried to avoid conflict at best. But she had reacted when things had gotten out of hand, no one had rushed to her side to help her. Who would have this late into the night? There was hardly anyone here, in fact, she hardly remembered seeing anyone but those guys and maybe two other people and the bartender had just walked out the door for a smoke break. But no one would suspect a thing, she was a woman getting compliments, getting an invitation to go out for drinks at another location, why should she resist having a little fun?

Onlookers would have let her be taken by the men, if she had been willing to sleep with one of them then they might have not handled her so roughly. She had put herself in this situation, she knew she had one too many alcoholic drinks that night but that had been the only thing to calm her nerves. The guys who had started to talk to her probably thought she would be an easy catch.

She was confused, and distressed, so that led to drinking, a habit she usually tried to partake in only when she was home so that she could pass out on her couch without anyone bothering her. It was against her better judgement to walk into the bar that night.

She had told herself it wasn't a good idea, but going home to an empty house without her brother would only remind her of everything that had happened. It would trigger the memory of following after her brother Zaiden, he had gone on and on about these mythical creatures. She had thought that he was crazy, speaking some kind of nonsense in order to annoy her. But, one night he had disappeared and she had followed after him.

Naomie closed her eyes, not wanting to think anymore of what happened afterwards. Her hands started to shake again, she felt a constant pulse in her blood, something was different, the cuts on the side of her shoulder and chest from the attack from the wolf like beast earlier in the week still pained her. She looked down once more at the men on the floor, two were groaning in pain while the other wasn't moving at all. She didn't know what to do, she had only wanted them to get away from her, to get their hands off of her.

Blurred memories of shoving one of the guy's faces into the side of the bar flashed in her mind. Another of throwing one man off his feet and punching him, the force of her fist made him cough up blood as she had repeatedly punched his chest. There had been a heightened level of strength in her, speed and she had been able to tell what the next movements of the men had been. She reacted to them and drew back her fist but suddenly stopped herself, her breath had slowed down, her heartbeat pulsing out of her chest.

She had blood on her hands, looking at them tears started to fill her eyes, dangerously threatening to spill over. Noamie heard a door slam behind her, followed by a shout, she turned around and saw the bartender looking at her with utter shock. She knew what he was thinking, because she was thinking the same thing too. Had she killed any of them?

There was no time to stay to figure it out, Noamie's body acted on impulse and she rushed toward the door. She pushed past the bartender, evading his attempt to catch her, but he had hardly tried, he was more focused on the men on the floor. All Naomie could do was run, run away from all of this, hopefully the more she ran, the further she could get away from this. She hoped that as she ran this could all turn into some kind of dream that she would finally wake up from. She wanted to wake up, this couldn't be real, but as she continued to run, as her pace started to slow down, she knew that she could never run away from what had already begun.

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Darkness had eaten at the sky, clouds covering the stars and streets only being lit by the dim glow cast by lampposts. Where there were no bodies, full of heat and life, fog covered, lessening visibility even further. The town was dead, with good reason. At the base of a mountain, Glean Rock got many visits from the wildlife roaming the mountain side, including, as many have describe them as, freakish, ‘near monster like’ beasts.

The townfolk never spoke of the beasts, but all who lived there knew the whispers; they knew the rumors. They knew the creatures just weren’t right—weren’t normal. The people of Glean Rock were correct, their streets did get visits from monsters, more specifically lycans from Timber Town, a place higher on the mountain. It was a recluse location, rarely getting visitors, something the wolf clan that claimed it wanted to keep as such. They were an odd bunch, the lycans of Timber Town, but they rarely stepped on any toes, so there was no reason for concern, no reason for others to poke into their business...until recently.

Over the past few years, there had been a drastic increase in attacks on humans who wondered too close or deep into the forest covering the mountain, all victims mauled to death. While that was a big problem in some ways, it wasn’t too uncommon for secluded clans of wolves. They were territorial and, typically, hated humans and trespassers. So they’d kill them. Understandable, right?

The real problem happened only a few days ago; one of the clan’s attacks on a tourist wasn’t fatal. The girl who’d gotten bitten and scratched up had lived. Not only had she been bitten, the girl had ran straight to any ear willing to actually listen in Glean Rock, and told her story, the very story that the ear hearing her out wrote about all over the internet. The reason their race was able to live in secrecy was because they did the one critical thing they had to do: they stayed a fucking secret to humans. No survivors to blab about their existences.

Well, no, there was more than one reason they’d managed to stay a secret, but that was the biggest for sure. The other was a basic: they only turned those who could handle being one of them, who’d been either trained or brought up in their lifestyle. All those who were to bitten had to also be approved by the local alpha. This helped ensure that there were no wildcards in play, ensured no one accidentally expose them because they lacked the control or ability to handle being one of them, and this was why the little survivor of a lycanthrope attack from the Timber Town wolves had to be taken care of.

The fuckin’ hicks up the mountain weren’t going to take care of their shit, so here Bryer Vixon was, having to do it for them. Sent from several towns over, the woman was to follow through with a task given to her by her Alpha. She was to get rid of the newly bitten. Hunting puppies and ripping their heads off wasn’t exactly what Bry would call a fun Friday night, but when the big wolf gave an order, following it wasn’t up for debate.

Hands shoved into the pockets of her black trench coat, the Bryer walked along the sidewalk, taking deep breath after deep breath. The scent of a bitten was unmistakable to a lycan; some would say it’s because of the body was in a constant state of transition, a transition that would never be completed until death came upon the bitten. Others would say it was some deeper reasoning besides biology; they’d say it was like that to allow for lycan to find their pups, be it to protect them or to get rid of them in cases like this. Bryer personally believed the prior; they were creatures created from a tick in biology, after all, not a mythological curse or privilege.

Another deep breath. Ah, there it is.

Walking the empty streets, fog rising before her and falling after her, she continued along the scent’s trail until she was at the door of a pub. Pulling her gloved hand from her coat’s pocket, she opened the door and went in. Her eyes roamed the bar for but only a moment before landing on the brunette seating atop a stool, hand shaking as it went to grab a drink and bring it to her lips. Yeah, that was her.

Walking to the other edge of the bar-top, Bryer took a seat, the bartender quick to walk over and ask what her poison would be. Tequila, she’d told him, and within a few seconds she had her a shot all readied up and to go. Her fingers went to the rim of the glass, tracing the top as she watched the pup. The poor girl was pretty, such a shame. A pretty face was always harder to tear from the world than an unfortunate one. Shallow, sure, but true all the same. Humans and lycans were alike in many ways, including that they both could spot good genetics and had a pull towards them. A pretty face was often the body’s way of showing off their genetic superiority. Again, such a shame.

The bartender stepped out, probably to refresh his nasty cigarette breath. Bad habit. But who didn’t have a couple of those? Bryer had one or two herself.

It was in this time that the pup decided to get up and make her leave. Bryer stayed still, reserving to just observation for the time being. The key to being a good predator was knowing when to hold steady and when to strike. This was hardly he moment to finish up with her orders. Eyes darting from the puppy to the loud group of liquored up guys that’d stayed to themselves until now, Bryer’s tracing motion over the rim of her glass stopped. The guys were going for the pup. The pretty face had caught their attention, which was unfortunate for them.

That particular pretty face was not one to test, not one to push. Bittens were unstable, especially the newly changed and the ones plucked out of thin air. The puppy was dangerous, very dangerous, mainly because she’d gotten hold of a new level of physical and mental abilities that were tied to a very heightened level of emotion. Not making a move, still, Bryer watched as the men approached the pup. In truth, Bryer believed the men may deserve whatever the little pup had waiting for them, so she’d let them get it. After that, she’d handle deal with the pup.

It was quick, from start to finish, no shock to Bryer. The majority of humans lacked a chance against a lycan. Bittens were like normal people on eight kinds of drugs: hulk like strength, uncanny reflexes, and most importantly, unstable. This girl was no different...expect for one tiny detail. The pup didn’t finish them off.

Bittens, when new to the world, had a very lacking sense of control the majority of the time. Granted, it varied from case to case, but most all of them were driven by emotions. There were few exceptions. One was an odd amount of self control and restraint, which this pup seemed to have. She was able to bottle up her rage and anger, and reign her actions in. The other was an extreme embrace of one’s emotions; instead of learning to shove their feelings down, they’d try learn to harness them. Bryer knew the latter well, seeing as she was one of them. But the prior, the unremarkable ability to restrain one’s self without so much as a lick of practice? It was just bizarre and...interesting to Bry.

Maybe the pup didn’t need to be killed...not yet anyways. Maybe she could make up the lost ground… Or maybe she was going to crash and burn. It would be interesting to see which.

Lucky, lucky puppy.

The bartender returned in, yelling out of shock, the pup fleeing out the door. She could have just claimed self defense. A young woman being harassed by three dickish men, no doubt she would have been let off the hook. She fled out of fear, no doubt, fear of what she’d just done and fear of herself.

Stepping over the unconcious men, Bryer didn’t give even a glance to the bartender. Her focus was trained on one thing. Out into the streets, Bryer began to map out her route mentally, using the pup’s directionality to predict where she’d be. With light but quick steps, she began down the mapped path, managing to get exactly where she wanted: in front of the pup. Standing with her arms lightly crossed over her chest in the middle of the alley the puppy was traveling down, the pup’s head turned to look over her shoulder for a moment to ensure she wasn’t being followed, Bryer waited for the girl to look in front of her once more.

When she did, the pup stopped dead in her tracks, stumbling a step back out of surprise. “It’s dangerous to be wandering these streets at night,” she said. “Monsters lurk the shadows...” A small and coy smile tugged at er lips, “but you already knew that, didn’t you?”

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Which way should she turn? Was there a place that would be safe? But who was Naomi running from, it certainly wasn't those men who had approached her. She doubted that the bartender would have followed but instead would have called the police. Still, the only enemy that Naomi had at the moment was herself. She used to be in track and field, she could run fast enough, but nothing could outrun her own thoughts.

She felt like she was on a ferris wheel, constantly spinning around in circles. The momentum made her sick to her stomach and she thought about stopping more than once but didn’t want to risk being caught up in another bad situation. In fact, Naomi was scared, she didn’t know what was happening nor did she wish this to happen to her.

She should have taken her mother's advice to become a teacher. Nothing like this ever happened to teacher's but she had chosen to go down the path of an artist, one who sold her artwork and made a living in that fashion. If she was stuck back in her hometown, she wouldn't have been caught up in this, she wouldn't have followed her brother. But, there was no time to blame anyone, even herself, after all, she was the only one she could rely on at the moment. Even that perspective seemed bleak but it was far better than losing her sanity in the process.

Naomi finally slowed down her steps, even if she was a good runner at some point all humans grew tired and needed a rest. He chest heaved up and down as her footsteps echoed off the walls of the alleyway. She turned back slightly, making sure she hadn't been followed, turning to the front to find a woman standing before her. Naomi halted, examing the situation before her and at the woman's choice of words, she felt even more nervous and on her guard.

"What do you want from me, are you one of them?" Naomi said quickly, even surprising herself that she was on the offensive. There wasn't any hard evidence that the girl before her was linked to what had happened. The time where she had seen those beasts and she had been attacked. This girl could just be walking in the streets on her way home, but at this hour and with her tone of voice, it seemed highly unlikely. After everything, no one could blame Naomi for not being so kind at every given moment. That used to be her nature, trusting, and naive but she had been used and scammed before. She didn’t want that to happen again, she didn't want to be caught in a bad situation. But here she was, afraid, lost and confused.