Toxic, K.B. Torres [read with me .txt] 📗

Prologue:

"Run!" I shouted at Seth.
If it could, my heart would excelling from terror and exhertion from running. I was panting, not a good sign. When had it become so dangerous to be out at night? The ear piercing howl descended closer on us as we ran. Seth was a fledgling, and I know I don't have to say of what. We ran, or more accurately, I ran, Seth limped along the alley sidewalk, fleeing from the howls and barking. Where is Emmanuel?
"Stop! I'm...I...So hungry." Seth coughed out.
At this point it was leave him for dead, or carry him. I picked his body up, without breaking a sweat, and ran. There. In front of me was a garbage can, tall enough for me to jump on, and off of to the roof of the building trapping us in. I huffed, throwing Seth up on the garbage can with a thud. I cringed.
"Yeah, now you're going to get killed." I scolded myself aloud as I climbed up.
Seth moaned in pain, his fangs sliding out and burying themselves in his lip. The smell of his blood hit me; the smell was acidic, and syrupy. Not good.
It was then I saw it.
The large tuft of black fur, the vicious red eyes, the teeth snarling. They were right on us.
The wolf barked an order to a few more, who seemed to appear out of nowhere.
"Luke...Leave me...I'm...Meant to die." Seth coughed out.
His skin was a sickly gray, his eyes a clouded red, almost yellow.
"No, I promised Jules I'd keep you alive. Just a little longer." I said.
I picked his limp body, leaping for the rusted roof. I didn't leap high enough. I crashed through an old boarded window, the wood splintering my skin, the glass raining down around me as I shielded Seth. He grunted from my weight on top of him.
"Just a while longer, and they'll leave, and you can feed." I reassured.
I was so wrong. The moment I got up, I heard it. The howling, closer, louder, now sounding like a bear. They clawed their way into the window.
"Seth, get up!" I cried, as I scrambled up, bolting out of the room.
I assumed Seth had followed, until I heard the scream of pain. I rushed back. The wolves were on top of him, their muzzles coated with blood as they tore at, bit at, and crushed Seth. His cries were muffled by their howls of joy from the wolves, as they continued their frenzy. I just watched, stunned as my only enemy killed my brother in a frenzy. Seth screamed and kicked, but soon there was nothing left of him but a bloodied hunk of meat, his stomach, lungs, and heart disconnected from his body, lying across the room untouched. His skin was not skin anymore, but bloody muscles twisted at odd angles. Seth had been decapitated, his head dangling in the mouth of one of the wolves, the biggest one, the leader. They turned to me, growling and licking their lips. For a moment, we just stared at each other, a silent standoff. I turned and bolted, much faster than I did with Seth, dodging fallen beams and broken glass, the occasional cat, before I dived out a second story window, into the night. The sky had turned a blood red, the moon orange, as it does at the death of a fledgeling.
I ran towards Emmanuel's direction, that damn four seasons hotel, until I no longer heard the howls of the werewolves, before I slowed my pace. My heart constricted. My best friend, brother, fledgling, had been torn apart, and because of me.
"Don't blame yourself, babe." A female voice said.
I whipped around to see a girl, about the age I look, with curly golden locks, and blue eyes. She leaned against a lamppost, chewing gum, checking her nails.
"Wh-who are you?" I snapped, trying to stay cool.
Secretly, I was breaking down, ready to fight, to kill this girl. I stopped my angry trembling, unclenching my fists.
"Come with me, and I'll explain everything, Luke." She said, walking up to me.
"How do you know my name?" I snapped.
"Oh, I know a lot about you, and I only need your time, and you can either come or not." The girl held out her manicured hand.

Part 1:

Anastasia

Even now, I feel abandoned, though I can't imagine why. I grew up, living among strangers, maids, butlers, and anything in between, since my parents traveled a lot. They said they wished they could stay with me, but when you're as famous as they were, you don't really have a choice. That's what I get, being the daughter of an actor and a fashion designer. It did have some bad things, like the paparazzi and the questions I get asked. I've also never really had friends. My parents isolated me, as if they knew that something bad was going to happen to me one day, and I just dealt with it. But, then again, I did get a whole former hotel to myself as a house, and people who must do as I say. If I wanted to play dolls, I played with the maids, if I wanted to see a movie, I went to the built-in movie theater. That all changed, after my parents left me to live in Paris. I still wake up, feeling completely alone, as if they had passed away.
No, they are just residing in France. They still love you.

I always had to reassure myself. It began to get easier and easier, living without my parents, until he

came along.

Four nights now, I had seen the person on my balcony. At first, I was afraid to tell my parents, they’d assume I was seeing things, or worse, I was correct.
This night was awfully cold for a summer evening; I hugged my night wear close to my body. My parents had insisted I decorate my room on my room, thinking I would do pink. They of course, were wrong. My room was expansive, complete with my own bathroom and balcony. Every spot of my wall ragged gray, owls adorned my ceiling, many of which were flying around clouds, excluding the one sitting on a moon peering down.
I’d hired the best painters I could find (behind my parents’ backs) and they were indeed amazing. I had taxidermy birds, including a raven, peacock, and snowy owl perched to fly off my walls. Other than that my room was pretty normal, complete with a bed, dresser, mirror, and desk. The curtains on the door were white lace, eerily transparent, like ghosts.
Shut up, ghosts don’t exist.

I knew ghosts didn't exist. Why would they? That's like saying the sky is purple and raining hedgehogs. It's just utterly impossible.
I got up, using much will power to drag my feet to the sliding balcony door. I brushed the curtains away to see a boy of 18, his back turned to me while he was looking at the moon. The moon was big, full, and a waxy orange this night. It tinged the night sky from navy blue to a red, the stars barely noticeable. The world looked post-apocalyptic, seeming to be in a subtle chaos. Car horns and the yowls of feral cats could be heard for miles. The wind gusted again, causing the boy to shiver, ever so slightly. Why is there a boy here? This is my house, and the moon is the same from any other place. I pulled away from the window, not exactly silent.
Great, he didn’t notice me.

I threw the door open as quietly as I could, trying to sneak up on the boy. A gust of wind came in, blowing my cherry red hair out of its French braids,turning into a curly mess in front of my eyes. I was always told that I had eyes like those of an owl's: big, but not too big and a perfect yellow that would change to red.

I pushed the hair out of my eyes hastily before I shouted, “”Hey! Get away from here before I have you arrested!”
The boy turned around, wide eyed. He just ran and jumped off the balcony. WHAT? OH MY GOD!

I felt shock ripple my breath. Was he trying to kill himself? I was several stories from the ground, and that kid just jumped? I rushed out, into the cold night. I rushed to look over the gray balcony, my heart almost in my mouth, beating rapidly. I looked over. There was no blood, no boy, nothing. Nothing at all. I exhaled, relieved have not seen a dead body. But wait, was I the only person who saw him, or did anyone else witness him jump? I shook my head, realizing I could never know. If I asked any of the maids, they'd freak and tell me I need my rest, or suggest therapy to me. There was no one on the streets, as there usually are, but today's a Sunday. Why would anyone be out this late on a Sunday?
"Am I going crazy? Please, please tell me I'm not going crazy." I said, to no one in particular.
And here I am, talking to no one in particular. I need friends. I'm happy that my parents are enrolling me.

Then I went on to the next subject of my mistakes. What was I thinking? What if that guy was a killer? Or a rapist? Oh well, he left, or maybe didn't even exist. I’d better get to bed, I start school tomorrow. Even though school had like a couple weeks until summer break. I closed the door and slammed the bolt home, locking the screen door. I replaced the white curtains against the screen doors, carefully, hoping I wouldn't rip the fabric. I got back in bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. I decided to think of my life. I had grown up rich; my parents were almost never around, and only supplied me with what I had needed, rarely with what I wanted. They had me home schooled up until now, but they were afraid I might become antisocial or something, so they enrolled me in the nearest high school, 3 miles away. My parents left the night before, leaving for Paris. Worried thoughts swarmed around me, repeating over and over, like a broken record. What if they think I’m a snooty rich girl? What if the kids there were mean? Who cares if they’re mean, I’ll just ignore them to get by. And as for them thinking I was a snooty rich girl, I’ll just not dress in anything too fancy.

That was easy. The only thing fancy that I owned was a frilly pink ball gown, which I hate with all my heart. I found myself drifting off, into a dark, dreamless sleep.

Emmanuel

“"Hey! Get away from here before I have you arrested!”” An unsure female voice shouted from behind. Startled, I turned around to see a girl about 17 glaring at me, a cell phone in her hand. I felt my eyes go wide before I turned and jumped off the balcony. It was a long way to the ground, but nothing my legs couldn't handle. The girl must have thought I was committing suicide; I could feel the tension and worry in the air. When I hit the ground, Luke met up with me.
"Dude, what was up there?" Luke asked, pointing up.
What would I tell him?
Oh, you know, just a