The Luna

Twenty-Five

It's funny that when contemplating what-if scenarios, you always come up with quick responses. At that time, the answers you come up with are smart and well thought through. 

If this happens then I'll do that first and then this. You swear to yourself if or when that scenario happens, that's the game plan and you'll stick to it perfectly. 

It's complete and utter bullshit. 

I told myself that if I were ever in danger again, I would find help or calmly look for a place to hide. Instead, I'm frozen, staring at the rapidly empty house as if it didn't faze me. 

My mind races a mile a minute and is somehow completely numb and it's my body that reacts first. My feet racing up the stairs before I even realize where I'm going. 

I don't allow myself to focus on the sounds coming from behind me, don't allow myself to think of those out there fighting or worse...

This is my fault. I shouldn't' have stayed here. I should have asked Malachi to let me go on my own after the Concilium. I had nowhere to go and it made it easier for me to go along with him, but I could have instead just disappeared. 

Run until I could run anymore and then... I don't know. But at least innocent people wouldn't be in danger because of me. 

I burst through my bedroom door, the loud crack ringing through the air drowned out by the ringing in my ears as I beeline for my closet. My hands moving a few bits of clothing I have aside frantically until I see the red fabric that I'm looking for. 

As soon as the fabric is secured around my shoulders, I flip the hood over my head and take a deep breath. It's not as relaxing as I would've hoped. 

I can't stay here in this room. If I remember correctly, my scent would lead them here and they would look to see if I was hiding, even if the cloak covers my scent. 

I dash out of the room, holding the cloak tightly to me like a lifeline. I look at every door I pass, wondering if I'm far enough away from where my scent last was or if they will search every door. 

Finally, I decide that whatever lay behind the next door is where I'm hiding. 

The room is silent and simple. A wide bed framed by two windows, a strand of icicle Christmas lights dangling between them.  Pictures hang on the wall, smiling faces framed and frozen in time. 

I don't bother looking more closely. I lock the door, knowing that it won't stop any wolves that want in here including the owner, and move to the closet because there is no way I will fit under the bed.

Suddenly it's silent like the world has muted itself and the only sound left is the drumbeat of my heart. I try to focus on slowing it down as if by will alone it will calm itself as I press the fabric of the cloak over my mouth. 

I have to be still. These wolves may not be able to smell me but they can surely hear me. 

A creak of the floorboards has me freezing. My breath held in my lungs as I strain to hear something, anything, that would give me an idea as to what was happening. 

Maybe I should accept my fate? Maybe I was always meant to die at the hands of the wolves, just as the women in the legend had died?  Perhaps that's why Emily had wanted to start from the beginning - to paint the full picture for me to understand my role. 

Sadness floods through me at this thought. Everyone wants to assume that their life has meaning. Some big grand purpose that they're on this Earth to fulfill. The idea that my purpose is to be killed by the once mythological creatures is... well for lack of a better word, disappointing.