Conquering demons

Author Note: Listen to this: http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=fRun9U1ba0Y while you read this. I was listening to it while I wrote it.


Another month, another luna cycle. There was no stopping it, no cure for him. He'd been 'exposed' to the venom for so long it was no longer the ill of another, it was his curse now. He was never going to be freed from its effects. Bearing this burden was something that shouldn't be made public. He could smell them, those traitors that escaped because of that girl with her 'cure'. That one who never turned, he who intended to remain human because he feared, loathed - or whatever his reason was - what he would become when the full moon rose into the night sky and shone sickening silver upon the decendant's of the wolf.

Was Vincent even still human?

Hiding beneath the home comforts of a thick blanket, Vincent stared at his hands. He looked weak and scrawny. His skin was pale. He looked like he would spontaneously combust were he to step out in the sunshine. But beneath that pale skin lingered the hide of a monster. Pulling his hands into his chest, Vincent curled up into a tighter ball. He seemed quite the sight on the floor of his dorm, hiding within the darkness of his blanket while the world outside was bright and white, the first snow falls tumbling to the ground beyond the walls of the school.

This was nothing new for the teenager.

Waiting for the moon to come made him antsy. Days were shorter in the winter, bringing the coming of the moon much sooner. Yet, it also included longer nights, meaning more time under the moon's influence. It gave 'lunacy' an entirely new meaning.

Who would care if a monster died?

Another evil being gone from the world. It didn't matter about the person he was when the wolf wasn't in control, whether or not he was a good and kind-hearted person. He had evil inside, and therefore he too was evil. Given the chance, that evil would break out and kill. Vincent was a slave to the moon.

Although lost within his lament, sensistive ears picked up the soft knock to his door. While there was an obstacle between him and the person on the other side, Vincent picked up the scent. Sweet, glorious, and oh so human. It was a sickening thought when all was considered, at how Vincent could pick up the differences between when Marshall fed to keep himself alive, and when he allowed that odd metabolism of his to degrade his life energy.

Vincent was a monster that knew what he was and did all he could not to allow the evil to conquer him.
.
Marshall was a human that felt he had to become a monster to survive.

Both had been forced into being 'monsters'. Vincent by the werewolf that had attacked him when he was a boy, and Marshall by birth. Neither wanted the burdens placed upon them.

Mumbling "In here," to the one outside, eyes closed within the darkness, sounds of someone entering his room muffled by the fabric around his head, but still clear to him.

"Ainsley said she was worried about you. You've not gone to any classes for a few days. Normally you try to attend some before the full moon."

Stretching out a hand, blunt fingernails dug into the carpet. "Evil doesn't need to go to class"

Marshall knelt down behind the lump on the floor. Surveying the mess, he noted that Vincent had taken a lot of his frustration out on his furniture. He'd have to fetch the janitor to come and clean up what was left of Vincent's closet and desk. The curtains were a torn up heap amidist the remains of the battle of Vincent vs Vincent. Looking down at his friend, he reached out to touch where he thought Vincent's shoulder would be.

"I still went to class."

"You don't kill people."

"Last time I checked, neither do you."

Vincent let out a low growl. Rolling over, his head popped out from beneath his blanket. He blinked up at Marshall, deep circles under his eyes. The other touched the mess of blue-black hair sticking out at all directions on Vincent's head.

"The weapon doesn't kill the person, it's the one holding the gun that kills."

Vincent snorted at Marshall. "The guns don't kill people; people kill people speech? Really, Marshy?"

Marshall shrugged, giving a sheepish smile to his friend. "Its a horrible fate we have, isn't it, Vinnie?"

Letting out a noise that sounded somewhere between a purr and a growl, Vincent moved to rest his head on his friend's lap, breathing in that sweet scent that was pure human. "I know you wonder who they are. The people that die to keep you alive. Which one is evil? Evil that commits evil deeds, or evil that eats evil for the simply fact to stay alive? You don't kill those people, they were deemed dead meat by another."

Marshall ran his fingers through Vincent's hair, stroking the strands gently. "You hide yourself away, keep away from people that you could hurt. Ainsley would -"

A growl. "Ainsley comes so close to dying every time she toys with him!" He sat up, grey-brown eyes staring deep into Marshall's. "She's nine years old and is playing with fire! I'm not an Alpha, but one of these days something could snap, and Ains will find herself a tasty werewolf treat."

"They're working on a cure, Vinnie," Marshall said soothingly, stroking his friend's face. "Knowing that they can stop the transformation happening in new werewolves will eventually lead to them finding a way to stopping you from changing."

Vincent growled again, annoyed whenever the topic was brought up by another who knew what had happened with the so-called 'cure' for lycanthropy. "One day I'll confront him. I'll show him what he's hiding from."

"Vincent!" Marshall shouted. "That's the wolf talking! Don't you dare say something like that again!"

Vincent sighed, moving forwards to rest his forehead against Marshall's chest. Fingers curled within his blanket, and his snuggled up to his closet friend. "M'sorry," he mumbled. "It knows how strong Eben could be. Its like a wanderer invading pack territory. He's a different pack"

Marshall smoothed his hands down Vincent's back while making soft 'shush'ing noises. "But don't all werewolves trace back to one decendant?"

"Don't know. Never looked into it."

Marshall moved his hands to beneath Vincent's chin, forcing his head to tilt back in order for him to look up into his face. "Well, how about to get you out of your room, we get Ainsley and head for the library? A little bit of research into werewolves?"

Vincent grinned. "How'd you know I've not done it myself?"

"Because Vinnie and research does not often occur in the same sentence, short of including 'does not do'," MArshall replied with a chuckle.