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Border Bridge

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The story of Freya, a girl with identity issues, werewolf problems, social problems, life problems and problems in general. Set in a future where creatures we thought were myths have come to life.

Fantasy / Romance
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

I just had enough of time to spin around and face my attacker before his fist connected with my left cheek and sent me flying to the ground.

“Who the fuck are you?” Hank Fisher screamed down at me, spittle hitting my face as a purple vein throbbed on his forehead. “What are you doing on my fucking property?”

Hank’s “property” consisted of a ram-shackle house, surrounded by scrapes of metal, broken down cars with missing parts and beer bottles. It was situated at the edge of a tiny village, just shy of the Border Bridge, down a dirt road and obscured from public view by a group of trees. It looked far worse in the daylight, then when I’d scooped it out last night. It was very typical surrounds for a man of his caliber, which is to the say that he was the lowest form of scum that I had the displeasure of searching for.

Hank’s plan had been simple though. He wanted to stay hidden. What better way to do that, then by living in squallier. No one was going to bother to look too closely at the poor people. It was par for the course these days. Like every other major problem in the world, they’d rather ignore it until the poor either died out or made enough of a nuisance of themselves to warrant some more government interference. Let’s face it though, that very rarely happened. At least not in the world I lived in.

I hadn’t expected Hank to come back from the bar so soon, but I’d been stupid for letting my guard down. I picked myself up from the ground, keeping a good distance away from him. He growled at me, baring his teeth.

“Maeve! Beau! Get in the car,” I commanded without looking at them, shoving myself up from the ground. They were cowering in the door frame of the house, the fear they had of their father rubbing against my senses. I could feel how unsure they were. They wanted to do as I said, but they were afraid that I would lose, that there father would kill me and then turn on them. It didn’t help that Hank stood between us and my rental car. He threw another punch, which I narrowly avoided. Even though the reek of alcohol emancipating from his skin was so thick I could almost taste it, he once had been a formidable fighter. I was not about to underestimate him.

Hank loomed over me; trying to use his incredible height to intimidate me. His anger hit me hard, coating my insides, but rather then scaring me, it only added to my own rage. He hunched down slightly and I knew what was coming next.

“Please get in the car!” I shouted at children as I braced myself.

“My kids aren’t going anywhere with you, you little bitch!” He charged, like a bull, his nostrils flaring. I was so done playing nice. I drew back my fist and punched him squarely in the jaw, just before he would have made contact with my midriff, sending him flying backwards, in the opposite direction of the car. He landed on the ground with a loud thump! I heard Maeve gasp and then Beau was tugging at her hand saying; “Let’s go.” They high tailed across the uard and jumped into the back seat of my car. I moved so that I was now standing in front of it; protecting them. All of this happened in the moment it took Hank to get back on his feet. I knew it was surprise more than anything that had kept him down. I was strong for a girl, but not that strong.

Not without Sin.

Speaking of Sin seemed to conjure her more fully to forefront of my consciousness. I’d felt her pacing back and forth within the confines’ of my mind. But now she was howling for justice, her strength, agility and speed seeping into my blood. She itched to get out and teach Hank a lesson. She wanted to make him hurt. To be perfectly honest we both wanted it, but I couldn’t let her dictate how we dealt with him. If it were up to her, we’d just kill him and be done with it. Normally, she was the one for working things out, talking and so on and I was the one who wanted to slit people’s throats. She and I were just two halves of the same personality that had been split in two. We needed each other to feel whole.

But I digress.

I needed to stay focused on situation in front of me; especially considering that Hank was charging me again.

Can’t kill him Sin, I told her, leaping out of Hank’s way. But we can put the fear of God in him. Sin’s response was a loud growl that vibrated from my throat. She pushed against my mind showing me how good it would feel to rip his throat out. I’d already pictured it numerous times so I was able to resist the blood thirst. I have to admit though, it was extremely tempting.

Hank claws sliced out of his fingers and he swiped them at my stomach. I darted back, but he still caught me across the ribs. I sighed, as Hank and I danced around each other.

It was kind of funny when you thought about it. Arguing with myself over whether to kill someone, but knowing that she was still you and you were still her. So your thoughts were hers and her thoughts were yours. So you did actually want to kill him, but wouldn’t let yourself.

Okay maybe, not funny.

More like eternally confusing.

It’s too easy. I dodged another swipe and leapt over his head to land facing his back. I kicked out at his knee with my right leg with as much force as I could muster and heard the snap that signaled I’d broken it. If we kill him, then that’s it. He can’t repent or suffer or whatever. It’s just an end for himandanotherblackmarkfor us. Sin huffed in frustration; she couldn’t speak right not, not really, but she could show me images. She showed me things from our past that would have already left black marks on our soul.

Hank fell to the ground howling in agony, but he wasn’t finished. He was starting to change. He’d heal faster in his wolf form. Oh, did I forget to mention that Hank was a werewolf. So were Beau and Maeve. I on the other hand…I’m something else now. Seriously I keep going off topic; back to the subject at hand.

No, Sin, we just can’t. Besides if anyone deserves to cause his death, it would be Molly. Beau and Maeve have that same right. They are the ones who suffered at his hands. They should be able to deal out the punishment. Even Sin couldn’t argue with that and I knew how much she loved to argue. Glad she’s finally agreed with me, I let her consciousness fully seep into mine and as quick as one could blink we became one.

I could feel it start to change me. My hair grew a couple more inches and turned a darker shade of brown and my eyes turned from green to a navy blue. The way I carried myself changed too. I stood taller and there was an air of confidence around me that hadn’t been there before. My body became slightly harder and more muscled. This is what I looked like when I was truly me; when both sides of me were one.

Walking forward, I grabbed Hank by the hair and turned his head to face me. He was still trying to change, but the amount of alcohol that was in his system slowing him down. If he was confused by my new appearance he didn’t show it; too drunk to notice. He growled at me again, trying to snap at me with his elongating teeth, so I slammed his face back into the dirt and jabbed my knee in between his shoulder blades, applying lots of painful pressure.

“You know you should really think of giving up the drink,” I remarked conversationally, watching him struggle to throw me off. “I mean what kind of werewolf are you? You can’t even defend yourself against a little girl like me. That’s got to make you feel pretty incompetent.”

His reply was muffled by the fact that I was making him eat dirt, but I think the words ‘bitch’ and ‘fuck’ featured heavily. He bucked a few times, trying to dislodge me.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to use bad language in front of a lady?” I reared his head back and slammed it down again. There was a crunch and I knew I’d broken his nose. “Now Hank, I’m feeling generous today, so I’m not going to kill you. I am, however, going to say this, if you ever, ever come near Maeve or Beau again I will not hesitate to rip your throat out.”

To show how serious I was about the threat, I pulled his head back up and showed him my eyes. And just like that Hank reeked of fear. If he had been in his wolf form his tail would have been between his legs, his head bent back and his throat on display, showing me that he submitted to my dominance.

You see, I had inherited this nifty little werewolf power from my grandmother, called nightmare eyes, or more commonly known as red eyes. Werewolves eyes varied in colour, but if you happen to be born a red eye, well even your own kid are afraid of you.

“Are we clear?” I asked, knowing that my tone of voice left no room for disagreement.

He nodded, once, lighting fast. That was enough. “Good.” I grabbed a handful of his hair in my hand, twisting it painfully and pulled his head back towards me. “Now I need you to be a good boy and drink this.” I pulled the glass vial out of my coat pocket, where it had avoided getting crushed, popped the top and forced him to drink the contents. He resisted at first, his mouth staying firmly shut, but I was prepared for this. With the heel of my boot, I stomped down on the back of his hand. I had to do it twice before he involuntarily opened his mouth the scream. I threw the contents back his throat. He swallowed down most of it, but it didn’t matter. All that was needed for the mixture to work was an ingestion of a few drops.

I let go of his hair and lifted my weight off of him. He scrambled away from me, using his elbows to drag himself towards the house. I waited until I saw him go inside before I turned to go back to the car - I’d relieved him of his shot guns so he had no way of retaliating.

I reigned Sin back in, my appearance going back to normal before I slid into the driver seat and turned to face two very white faced children. They couldn’t know about my little defect, it was safer for them.

“Whoa,” Beau breathed his eyes far too big on his pinched face. Hank hadn’t been feeding them right either.

“I’m sorry you had to see that guys,” I said, meaning it. A child should never have to go through the things they have seen and I’d just added some more violence into the mix, but I wasn’t sorry about what I’d done to Hank. Guilty yes, sorry no.

It was Maeve who answered me and made me feel less guilty. “The only reason you did it was to protect us. Dad only used it to make himself feel better. You are forgivable, he is not.”

Maeve was only thirteen, but I could hear the bitterness that had already crept into her voice. Hopefully, with some time, it would creep back out.

“Are you going to take us to see our Mom now?” Beau asked, clutching a raggedy teddy bear to his chest.

“Yeah, kiddo, but it’s the middle of the night. So sleep, food and then I’ll drive us home in the morning.”

I gave them, what I hoped, was a reassuring smile.

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