Niveus Lupus (White Wolf)
1 – Roses Are Not Red
~ Haley ~
He was a boring, self-obsessed schmuck that wore enough Axe cologne to choke a whole country.
Did he lack that much class?
Men thought that more cologne was better, but Haley disagreed. The overwhelming smell made her nauseous because she had to spend a whole night out on the town at the last minute. It had been Oliver's great idea with him insisting that she'd love it, but she didn't. And for his lack of common sense and thinking, she was officially beginning to hate the male race.
"Politics change from one person to another. I don't really have a dedicated view, though. I tend to side with whichever Politician is less of a dumb ass."
Staring at her plate, Haley was positive she officially hated the male race. She stabbed the meatballs on her plate with a sharp, jagged knife as Oliver droned on and on—the subjects changing from one minute to the next.
"I got this sweet ass computer. I just put in a top of the line motherboard, and that fucker is fast. I so own the gaming world. You should see the processor on this girl. And my graphics card…don't even let me get started."
Haley sighed. Was this her future with Oliver? Would he always talk about things that didn't matter to her? Would he ever care about anything more than computers and himself? The thought of Oliver ever putting anything of importance first was grim. But Haley wasn't really concerned with his hobbies. It was that he was talking computers, and she was bored. Today was the day that they were supposed to talk about important things—like life and their future relationship.
"I brought you out here for a reason, though," he started suddenly.
"Really?" She perked up, sitting straighter in the chair.
"I put my last plan into action, and unfortunately I was right. Things just don't feel the same between us anymore. We should break up. I liked you more when we were friends."
"W-what?" she cried out, dropping the knife. It clattered against her plate and dozens of eyes were suddenly on her. "Break up? Today? Why?"
Of course she could admit that Oliver wasn't her favorite person, but she didn't want to break up with him—not over dinner on Valentine's Day. It was insulting.
"I don't want to be in a relationship right now. Erm, well, enjoy your dinner, Hale. I'll see you around." Blushing, Oliver tried to shoe her away with his hands. "Can you go now?"
"What," she whispered lowly, "are you talking about?"
Café Italia was a quaint little restaurant. Its design was crafted by the true Venice, but it was also cheap. None of the food was authentic, and Haley could prepare better Italian foods than these chefs. But she didn't really care up until now. Oliver was taking her out. He was willingly spending money and being seen out in public with her. Just spending time with him used to make her feel good, but now she just felt cheap. And used. And unimportant.
"I…" He nervously darted his eyes all over the café. A look, similar to fear, consumed his face as he shook. "Umm, Hale, it might be a good time to tell you that I got involved in something bad. Something really evil. I don't have the time to worry about you anymore."
Haley winced. Was that it? Was he breaking up with her because she was just a nuisance? Snorting, she shook her head. Just fantastic. From the beginning she knew that Oliver was a bit of a coward, but this was too much.
"You're a jackass, Oliver. Burn in hell, you self-centered prick."
She grabbed her plate of spaghetti, dumping it over his head.
"And I hope to never see your sorry face again." Triumphantly, she stomped out of the restaurant. A few women cheered for her while other's just looked on in shock. Had she ruined their night? Probably but Oliver was asking for it.
Breathe in; breathe out, Haley thought aloud as she slipped out the front door, more confident than she had been in months. Café Italia was a damn cheap way to take a girl out on a special occasion—well, a special holiday. And then he broke up with her in public? She'd look like a stupid pushover if she didn't say anything. And now—she was embarrassed and heartbroken. What happened to gentlemen and chivalry?
"It died," she whispered, as she walked down the sidewalk.
The streets were practically deserted as she walked in the direction of her house. Of course she didn't get very far when Oliver came up running behind her, nearly out of breath.
She didn't want to wait. Oliver wasn't worth that.
"Your life is in danger! If you don't stop, don't go home! You'll regret it."
Haley choked back a sob. She was already crying. Great. Why did she have to get attached to Oliver in the first place? He wasn't even that smart or cute, but the bastard was funny. And she loved funny.
"Go away," she yelled. "I never want to see you again."
Oliver laughed. "Don't worry, you won't."
The sky was dark, covered in a blanket of thick, grayish black clouds. A patch of fog passed over the moon, and instantly the mood was set. Something in Oliver's words instilled fear in her as she walked underneath the flickering lampposts.
Her boyfriend, seemingly perfect Oliver White, had ruined everything. Haley and Oliver had been the best of friends since grade school. In fact, he was her only friend, and now he wasn't. She wasn't stupid; she knew the rules. Boys said they could be friends after ending a relationship, but it was never true. Oliver, if she really knew him that well, was never ever going to talk to him again.
And suddenly she was friendless. The long walk home was never one she had to endure alone, and it felt quiet. On every corner, she felt as if someone was watching her, lurking in the shadows and waiting to strike. Clearly Haley was crazy or too upset to think clearly.
"I'm almost there," she whispered to no one but herself as she ran up the warped, wooden steps. The metal front door was cold, practically frozen, as she leaned against it and forced it open. She was met by the blinding lights in the foyer. Bloody footprints were everywhere, and her heart leapt in her chest.
The hallway looked ominous and unending, but somehow her legs moved without her consent and she was walking; the feeling that someone was watching her never quite went away as she held her breath. What kind of psychotic person broke into people's houses on Valentine's Day?
Her legs trembled, threatening to go out, as she followed the footsteps through the hallway. Haley's eyes were trained to the floor, and when she reached the den, a cold breeze swept past her, chilling her to the bone.
When she looked up, it was too late.
Haley's blood turned to ice, chilling her internal body temperature, as she stared at the den in shock. It was lined with hundreds of black, dead roses. The smell of decomposing flowers overwhelmed her as she walked backwards, her knees ready to give out on her at any moment.
It was Valentine's Day. Who was possibly this sick on one of the loveliest holiday's of the year?
Well, there are serial killers, Haley. Who else would be this psychotic?
She shook away the voice inside her head, wondering who was on the receiving end of such a cruel joke.
Are you sure it's a joke, Haley?
Again, she forced the inner voice to the back of her mind. Running was a good idea with a psychopath in the area, but every step she took was in slow motion. Why couldn't she move? Why was it becoming impossible to breathe?
Her hand brushed along the wall, using it for support, as she lost her balance. She stumbled head first onto the carpeted floor, a scowl reaching her face.
"Shit," Haley cursed, wincing as her face stung from using sour, bruised muscles. She was very coordinated, extra careful, and she didn't trip over thin air; she was sure she didn't.
"Aren't you the little klutz," a deep, chilling voice rang out. "I find it amusing."
She tried to sit up, but a heavy boot was pushing into her back, and she felt her chest pushing harder into the carpet. In the morning, she'd have so many carpet burns, but that seemed so trivial to worry about when it felt like her lungs were being crushed.
"How do you like the flowers, angel?" the voice spoke up, more gentle.
"I…" Her voice ended as she shook in her fancy, knockoff boots. Actually, she hated the flowers. She thought they were disgusting and uncalled for. Black was the color of death, and wilting black roses didn't paint a pretty picture in her head.
"Ah, not so fond, are you? But I suppose it's my thought that counts."
Valentine's Day was quickly becoming Haley's least favorite holiday as fright overcame her. Was this psycho going to kill her? She didn't think he was the type to play games and let her go. Unless she was rescued, she knew she would die. It was really dreadful that it had to be on the loveliest day of the year, too.
"Who are you?"
"Who? Who is not the question you should be asking." He laughed. "Maybe what is the better question."
"That's stupid," Haley gasped out. "You're human."
"Stupid human," he hissed. "I am a creature of the night—not some pathetic, weak human. And as expected, you got in my way. This was supposed to be a set up for Devlin, that shifting prick. I suppose, considering how long it's been, you shall do for tonight."
"N-not human," she stuttered as the boot disappeared from the small of her back. She rolled onto her side, getting a glimpse of the man behind her. He was unusually tall with ash-colored hair and pitch black eyes. Covered in black, head to toe, he was every bit intimidating. His posture was stiffer than a board, and he looked like a serpent that was ready to strike.
"You'd call me a vampire. I prefer other titles like Ruler of Death, but you humans are far too curious. Always asking questions. Let me tell you, questions piss me off," he growled, flashing his long teeth at me. They were long and inhuman looking. "You human—are the weakest, sorriest being I've ever met. Won't you get up? Will you fight me? I was hoping for a little fun. Don't you want to mouth off and pretend to sound brave?"
Haley wasn't about to ask any things. Her tired mind kept focusing on the 'Ruler of Death' part. Vampires didn't exist. That was crazy. It was just something an author made up. This guy was probably in a costume, wanting to scare her. He wanted to ruin her miserable Valentine's Day. Of course he did. Everyone, especially lately, seemed to have it out for her.
"I will not," she muttered indignantly. "I refuse to give you that satisfaction."
"Is that pride I smell?" He wrinkled his pale nose. "Yuck. I despise pride. It's an unnecessary feeling, human. If you have any sense at all, you'll just sit there and take it like a good little girl. I'm starving, and it's V-Day. What better day to spread the love—or I mean spill the blood? Red is quite the perfect color, wouldn't you agree?"
His eyes grew darker and colder and angrier. Haley wasn't the smartest girl in the world, but she was wise enough to figure it out. The true animal in him was coming out, but how? Vampires weren't supposed to exist. They made her simple, terribly boring life suddenly dangerous.
"Please don't kill me," she squeaked, forcing her eyes closed.
This was it. She was going to die on February the 14th after Oliver had broken up with her at an imitation Italian café. How pathetic was that? Really pathetic, a voice in her head spoke up.
"You heard her, Alex," a new voice cut in. "Step away from the human."
"I will do no such thing, Devlin," he growled. "I'm hungry, and you were late. You're always late. I thought a snack would be nice. Would you like some?"
Alex, the snake of a vampire, slithered closer to Haley. She blinked, surprised and scared at the same time. He practically floated across the room in a nanosecond. Every hair of the back of her neck stood up as his cold, pale hand poked her.
"I said to step away from the human," the other guy, Devlin, growled, pinning Alex against the wall. The savior—as Haley had appropriately dubbed him—was tall but not as much as Alex. His hair was chocolate brown, falling into a shaggy style against his tanned, squared face. He had blue eyes, the color of the midnight sky, but he was dressed nicely in a charcoal sweater and a pair of fitted khaki cargo pants.
"No," Alex spit out, shoving his enemy across the hall. He slammed hard into the wall, breaking it instantly. Plaster fell to the ground with her mysterious savior. It was only then that she realized the disadvantage.
"I've got to help," she whispered, struggling to her knees. She threw her purse—practically filled with bricks—at Alex's head. He winced, but hardly moved. "Crap," Haley whispered, suddenly terrified. She thought that the purse might've rendered him unconscious for a minute or two, but he was practically unfazed. Right, she thought to herself, vampires have super strength.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he snapped, his eyes turned from cold black to a hungry, no starving deep red. Crimson red.
In seconds, Alex had his icy cold hands against her throat, and he slammed her against the wall.
"Stupid human bitch," he hissed squeezing tighter, cutting off her oxygen supply.
Haley could hardly breathe and her eyes were becoming heavy. Surely she was a goner, she thought, as her world began to turn black. But as she saw a flash of white fur—the beauty of a white wolf—she filled her head with hope until she saw nothing else.
Music To Set The Mood: Radiohead
Note: I've been working on this for a couple weeks now. Since this all begins on Valentine's Day, I thought it was a good time to post this story around the same time. It wasn't quite ready to be posted yesterday, but I hope it's interesting enough to review. This is my first time in a long time reconnecting with the supernatural genre and third person is the hardest perspective for me to write from. Please review and let me know how I'm doing.