Freedom’s eve

The God Eater.

Hi, I’m Fenrir. I know, it’s weird. But it has to do with the fact that I’m part wolf. No not being silly like wearing fake ears and a tail. Not the, I’m a spirit animal kind of thing either. And no, I’m not a crazy lunatic who’s got crazy voices in my head. More like my mom actually got knocked up by a dire wolf, and, well here I am. Don’t worry, she wasn’t crazy either. I think. I don’t really know her all to well. I’ve moved from orphanage to orphanage since then. 

Now that I’m finally turning 18. I’m out. I’ll be on my own. For the first time I’m gonna be set free and it’s all I’ve wanted since I was little. I may still be small, but I never backed down from a challenge. I was about five and a half feet tall, and only weighed just over one hundred pounds. I hid my self in baggy clothes. Not just to hide how skinny I was. But to hide the fact I had a huge tail. This wasn’t the only thing that I was born with that proved how freakishly different I am. At least it matched my hair. 

If I wore dark and baggy clothes most people wouldn’t be able to tell I had a tail tucked into the back of my hoodie. The first foster homes I stayed in tried to bath me, and each time there would be screams of surprise. And horror. And most times they wouldn’t ever try again. They’d tell me to stay in my room. Or attic in most cases. But most families that looked after me could barely tolerate me. Why would I have expected any different. The small little room I currently sleep in isn’t any better then the attic of the last place. I got kicked out of there for tearing a hole in the floor of the attic so I could spy on the family room. They always played games and watched movies with out me. 

Some loving parents they were. Here, the parents already had their own son. Plus they already had three other foster kids. When I showed up they agreed to take me in. They forgot to mention that there wasn’t even a bedroom left in the house. It was agreed that the “true born” kid and the oldest foster boy would start sharing one room. But that never happened. I ended up with what was basically a storage closet. I had enough room to walk in, turn around, and walk back out. 

The fact that they stuffed a twin mattress in here amazed me. It wasn’t very comfortable, and it wasn’t even on a box spring. Or even on a frame. Just a brick of a mattress on the floor that filled up over half the space in here. That first day I sat out back behind their place watching birds in the trees. They lived near the edge of town. And behind their house was a large forested area with a small creek. I spent a lot of time wondering if I should just take off, see what lay on the other side of the woods. I had spent hours out there before they had bothered to bring me inside. I had to sit cramped next to the eldest boy and the second youngest girl at the dinner table. 

None of them ever bothered to talk to me much. I was already seventeen. Only Evan, the son whom actually belonged to the parents, was in the same age group. He had just turned eighteen. He hadn’t graduated high school yet so we ended up going to classes together. I always turned down any offer to get a ride with him to and from school. I preferred to walk instead. It was a couple miles, but it was time I didn’t have to spend with anyone but myself. After a few weeks of going to a school that I didn’t care for, I had found a good route that would take me about two and a half hours to get home. 

I got in trouble every time I got home so late. But I got to eat dinner by myself since they’d already eaten. I didn’t have to spend all afternoon inside. And I got to see almost the entirety of town. I took extra time when I went through the woodland trails. I followed the water and let myself get lost in the sensation of it all. These were about the only times I felt somewhat free. The smells of the wood and fresh growing plants. The sounds of the animals. And seeing how the sun beamed through the tree branches making patterns on the ground. Even if it rained I loved being out in it. 

The rain would always wash away the smell of the city. Even the noise was dulled if it was raining hard enough. The other thing that made me feel more comfortable in the woods, was that I could put my hood down. A hood that hid my differences. I had some other crazy features that everyone else always either made fun of, or were scared to death of. My natural dark blue hair was probably the least of them. The long pointed ears that shot nearly straight up off my head always stood out first to people. And if anyone looked at me long enough to notice my eyes, they’d find large iris’s with pupils that I can dilate at will. And they were usually a soft pink. 

Not like blood shot, but the iris itself was a really light hued pink color. That was the part that usually scared everyone off. Most would hurl insults at me. And I got used to ignoring them. And hiding myself so no one could see how hideous I was. Being bastard born from a couple that should never have been had given me plenty to resent about myself. When I was able to put my hood down, I could feel the breeze blow through my hair. It was amazing. The animals wouldn’t judge my looks, and I felt at peace with them. Most times when I’d get home, I’d walk out of the woods up to the back door. I’d sit down on the porch and just stare out into the woods. I figured I was in trouble for taking so long to get home anyway, why bother going in. They knew by now where to find me.

One evening while watching a few robins flutter between the trees, the sun had begun setting. Usually my foster parents would have come out to scold me by now. I figured they had finally had enough and we’re gonna let me just be alone. But when the sliding door opened and closed, footsteps came up behind me.

“Fenrir.” Charles’ deep voice said. “I have something for you. We’ve been thinking of how we could let you continue to be yourself. While still making us less worried about you not coming home right away.” He held out a small black rectangle. A flip phone, not the most modern one, but it was better than nothing. I wasn’t sure what I would do with it anyway. I didn’t have friends to call. I didn’t want to anyway. And believe it or not, the cell phone they gave me was only a gps monitor with a phone line on it. I could receive calls, and call out for emergancy’s only. Otherwise I was to keep it with me so that, in their crude explanation, if I got lost or kidnapped they could find me. Like I wanted them to find me. If I ran off I wasn’t taking it with me.

With only a month before I left, I was starting to become nervous as to what would happen.

As I sat staring out at the woods remembering that first day. Still wondering what would’ve happened if I ran, I began to feel like someone was watching me. I hadn’t heard the door open behind me. If they were watching me through the glass door, then fine. Whatever, creeps probably still expect me to bolt at any second. I only tried a few times, none of them successful for more than a day or two. Besides, not much more time and I wouldn’t have to run. I would be eighteen and legally free to leave. They never trusted me and never loved me. But that’s fine. I’ve never had much for friends and my families had all wanted me gone at some point or another.

My ears twitched, bringing me back to the real world. I sniffed, picking up the scent of smoke. I could hear distant sirens. Huh, someone’s house was burning. Not my fault, this time. The door behind me rattled a little, as if someone had bumped it a little to hard. I turned slightly, peering around the edge of my hood. The curtain had been drawn, but it obviously had something pressing it against the door now. A large something. Their lucky they didn’t break the glass, the idiots. 

Just as I was turning back towards the trees, I heard a scream. A loud piercing scream. From inside the house. I was on my feet and opening the door in an instant. The body that fell through as I did, was my foster fathers. A hole in his head and two stab wounds in his chest. My foster mother was leaning against the stairs just on the other side of the room. Injuries in a similar fashion. Though her face was in a much more horrific pose. Like she had seen death before it consumed her. She also had a lot of blood running down from her temple and chest. My foster father had none. Almost as if I was just realizing it. I asked myself, “why didn’t he bleed?”

Footsteps from the second floor, I silently paced to the stairs. Avoiding her blood, smelling the foulness of death on her. I hadn’t noticed that smell on him, they had severe differences and these were things I would have to figure out later.

“She’s not in the house. Neither are the other children. The adults are taken care of. I’ll wait inside until the kids return.” A gravely voice sounded from upstairs. I heard a thump that could only be the attic door closing. My senses were firing off in rapid succession. The smell of death, the sound of the mans footsteps as he came back towards the stairs, I could see his shadow, and then the front door banged open loudly and several voices were now ringing as loud as possible it seemed. I ducked away from the foot of the stairs as quietly as I could. Again avoiding all the blood, it had spread out in a huge puddle now. And I was half way to the back door when I heard someone yell out in horror. 

I didn’t even turn around as I heard the mingling shouts of alarm and thudding footsteps of the killer coming back down the stairs. I ran out of the door, and sprinted as fast as I could to the tree line. Within heartbeats and with barely a thought, I was on all fours dodging trees and rocks. Racing through the forest. The sounds from the house died down. My focus was on not hitting anything and getting as far away as possible. As the forest began to thicken, I remembered a ravine that should be up ahead soon. Maybe I could find a place to hide somewhere in it. At least until I collected my thoughts anyway. 

The stench of the blood and decay was fading, but my nose still itched as if I had been permanently stuck with that smell. The forest scents and sights were comforting though. I could see where the soft leafy ground gave way to a long steep cliff. I stopped and sat back on my heels, using my left hand as a prop, my right to pull my hood back. I looked over the side of the ravine. A small creek at the bottom was flowing smoothly. A few fish were swimming down it. And birds were washing themselves in the shallows. Such a peaceful place. Unaware of the tragedy that had occurred just a few miles away. 

It was amazing how just a few moments alone in this place calmed me. The sounds setting my mind at ease. I must’ve gotten away to quickly for anyone to notice me. The man had said he thought I wasn’t there. So that’s a plus. But who entered the house? How many of the other children had seen me? Would they be dead already too? Left on the ground, brutally murdered as they returned home? 

My heart was still beating fast, it was always the last part of me to calm. When I was younger and the adrenaline would take over, it would scare me at first just how sensitive each part of my body would become. I’ve grown used to the heightened senses by now. But I always knew how to control my heart rate. To make it pump faster when I needed more, and to slow only when I let it. Making sure that I always had instant access to the full spectrum of senses I had grown accustomed to. Even in school, I would force my heart to beat just above an average bored teens. 

Just so that I could focus my senses, not on hearing what the two girls behind me were snickering about. Or the boys at the front of the class who always made rude jokes. Definitely not to hear the teacher better, or see their clumsy writing on the chalkboards any clearer. I would actually put all my focus into drowning them all out. Secluding just one desk in the room. And focusing on the pencil, scraping all around the page. The boy never knew I would do this. I never commented to him in person. But his drawings were spectacular. Tons of detail. And he drew something new everyday. I was gonna miss those drawings.

 The sun was finally starting to set behind the mountains in the distance. I had been sitting at the top of the ravine for quite some time now. No strange sounds came from the trees. Just the peacefulness of nature. My stomach was growling at me, time to find a place to get some food. I had very little money on me. I hadn’t taken the cell phone. So no calling out for an emergency pizza delivery or anything. I wondered briefly if I should go back to the house to see what had happened. Then thought better of it. I didn’t need to know anyway. I had just been contemplating running away for the last few weeks and was happy to be leaving. So screw it. Maybe go back to town? See if I could find a meal. That would work. I could follow the creek back up the hill to the bridge that was the road into downtown.

As I reached up to pull my hood back over my head, I noticed my hand had some blood on it. In all my hurry to get away I never even noticed that I had gotten a large splinter in my palm. The blood was dried, and I used my teeth to grip the piece of wood and yank it free of my hand. I winced as it stung a little, I licked the wound to make sure there wasn’t any dirt in it. Something my foster parents would’ve been ashamed of. 

They liked to use chemicals to clean out their wounds. I preferred a more natural method. A little more blood trickled out and the coppery tang tasted as it should. No signs of anything infecting it. I flexed my hand a few times, the pain was minimal. I turned back towards the water and started to follow it back towards town. After walking for a few short moments, the sounds of the forest keeping me occupied as I went, I started to think about why my foster father had not bled. His wounds were severe enough that there should have been a copious amount of blood. His wife sure made a crimson mess. 

Birds chirping their merry songs gave me some comfort, I didn’t wanna keep thinking about the two deaths back at that house anymore. I began focusing my senses to my surroundings. My heartbeat began to quicken, my eyes started picking up colors on more vivid details. I could here a few squirrels rooting around at the base of a tree. A dog barked causing me to jump slightly. I looked towards the noise but it was a fenced in backyard up on top of the hill. I must be getting close to the downtown area. 

Just then I heard a gunshot, and another. What was happening? A third and fourth shot was heard just a little ahead. They were going from house to house now. Several shots back to back. I dropped to the ground, prowling up to the fence as quietly as I could. The dog was dead, a shot to the head. And a women was laying in a pool of blood just inside the open porch door. Screams from down the block made me look up. My heart was racing now. Why were people attacking so systematically? 

This town didn’t have any military, the police should have shown up by now but no sirens were blaring. I moved on all fours towards the screaming. Following the fence and staying low in order to not be seen. My hand was starting to throb again but I tried my best to ignore it. As I moved from one backyard into the next I could smell death. I peeked into a couple back doors when I felt safe enough to do so. The bodies laying on the floors were arrayed in total shocked positions. Like they never saw the men coming to kill them, and some had tried to escape out back doors. 

I noticed again, that a few of them didn’t have any blood around them. Maybe one in ten bodies would just be lifeless cores on the floor. No blood, no stench. I had seen enough of the dead bodies to start distinguishing the different odors of them. I could tell that some had been horrified to see their death coming. Others had never noticed and still a rare few had tried to repel their offenders. How could this have happened? Didn’t any of them hear the shots from the neighbors and realize they needed to be on alert? 

As I got to the edge of the downtown area, shopping centers replaced homes. But the scene of destruction and murder was the same. Just in a much larger scale. And this is when I noticed why the police sirens never went off. They had all been downtown, and had already died. How far behind was I? I thought those shots I heard were so loud and close. They must’ve been the shots the cops had been able to get off when the assaulting men attacked the downtown area. I went slowly from car to car, making sure to scent the air. Trying to pick up any traces of a live person. I listened for any noises, but it was silent as a grave. 

As I was moving from a red car towards a blue truck, I recognized one of the bodies lying there. And froze. It was the boy from my class, the one whom I’d listen to and watch while he drew. I didn’t expect to see any of his art work again. But this wasn’t the reason I had wanted it to be because of. As I looked at him, two things came across my mind. That he was one of the bodies with no blood, and that his chest had a huge burn mark on it. The shirt he wore was tattered and burnt away. And the skin was black. Charred from an intense moment of heat. 

I must’ve been staring at his body for a few moments before I heard a clatter. Something metal had just been kicked or thrown. I quickly picked my head up and rotated to look in the direction of the noise. I didn’t see anything, I just kept looking, slowly moving my eyes. Trying to pick out any motion or anything that might conceal a person hiding in ambush. There was a lot of places someone could hide out here. Between all the cars and buildings it was a veritable maze of danger. 

The wind was blowing gently from the west, the stench of death was strong. I could feel my stomach turning. I decided to sneak my way back to my house. At least there I could hide in my room. So long as the man who had been there decided to move on. I didn’t know what I would do if he was still there. I didn’t know what I would do if I ran into any of the assailants who were wantonly murdering a whole town. As I prowled around a few more cars, still on all fours, my ears twitched at another noise. 

A faint cry. It came from my right side, maybe a block or so away. I froze and continued to listen. I knew the voice that was crying out. My foster parents brat of a son. So they hadn’t killed him yet, maybe he had avoided them just as I had. But if he was crying out they would find him soon enough. I looked down the street towards my neighborhood. It was getting dark out now. Street lights were beginning to brighten small spots under them. I ran towards Evan, if he was still alive there was a good chance he was one of a very small number of people to survive. Maybe he saw who it was and I could help him get to the next town. There we could tell the police what had happened here and they could send for more help. When I got to the end of the next block I stood up straight again. I leaned into the building, hoping the shadows would hide me in case the killers were looking for the source of the noise.

 As I peaked around the corner I realized immediately that they weren’t looking for him. They had him strapped to the hood of an suv. One man was sitting on the roof of the vehicle. Evan was crying out for help, and the man was just patiently waiting and watching down the street. Only once did he look back the other way. And when he did I made an attempt to wave at Evan, trying to tell him I was there and to stay quiet. I shouldn’t have. The moment Evan saw me he started shouting my name. The man on top of the suv turned back and stared directly at me. He didn’t move otherwise. Evan was screaming like a knife was in his stomach. His voice growing horse. The man and I made eye contact for what seemed like minutes.

His drawling voice broke the tension, “Fenrir, dear girl, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What took you so long? Why don’t you come out here, I have some questions for you.” He talked as if he had known me for years. Like this was just a causal encounter. Like he hadn’t been part of a squad sent here to murder an entire town. Just, to ask me questions? What the hell? I couldn’t believe him. I stood my ground, making sure to not fully reveal myself around the corner of the building.

“Ah, scared of me are you? Well girl, you have no need to be frightened of me.” His words drawled out slowly. I didn’t trust him at all. My nose said he smelled of someone with no blood. Just like several of the people of this town had. My ears were focused on the small scratching noise I could hear. Was he fidgeting? I couldn’t see him moving at all. Evan had stopped screaming when the man started talking, he seemed tied down tight enough to not be able to fidget. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Let’s go say hello dear.” A dark voice with sinister undertones whispered into my ear. A glance showed me long fingernails painted black resting only an inch away from my collar bone. I slowly stepped away from him, and out into the street. The man from on top of the suv began to stand, and did a front flip. He landed on top of Evan, who screamed out. Blood splattered from under the mans boots. He had crushed Evan and shattered his rib cage. How Evan even had air left to scream was amazing. 

Then the man reached out and pointed at Evan. A single puff of air came out of his palm, hardly any noise, but a lot of force. A small hole opened in Evans throat. His blood spurting out in an arc, and his head slumping to the side. Dead. My eyes bulged. My mouth was hanging open, but no sound came out. He had just murdered someone whom I had actually known decently well, right in front of me. My hair was pricking up, I could sense my own fear. And as I came to this realization the man smiled. He could sense it too. And he could read me, he knew that I was accepting the fear. And it made him gleeful. A man who took pleasure in horrifying others could not be trusted. He was going to kill me too. What could I do. The second man had stayed only a foot away from me and was staring me down like I was his first meal in weeks.

“Back off a little Borsy,” the first man said. “I still need to get information from her. And I assume she understands just what will happen if I don’t get what I want.” He looked me directly in the eyes and I could feel his amber eyes burning the command into me. I nodded slowly.

“First, where’s you’re real mother? The bitch back at the house wasn’t her.” His angry voice told me that he had expected me to be with her.

“I was never allowed to know where they’d takin her, she’s in an asylum. That is all I know.” My voice was shaky and the words felt like a betrayal. I had no choice but to answer him though. I didn’t want to die here.

“Hmm, fine. Second, do you know who your father is?” He seemed more relaxed with this question, almost as if baiting a hook. Was he trying to get me to admit something? Or just trying to lead my answers?

“No.” It was a short cold response. I wouldn’t be baited if I could help it. I needed to give them a reason to keep me alive. And I’m not sure if anything I told them would do so. Maybe not telling them would make them angry enough to beat me, but not outright kill me. I hoped. His laughter made my skin crawl. The man behind me even made a growling noise as he sneered at me. I turned to look at him, I was confused. Getting his laughter under control, the first man stepped down from the suv and took a few steps towards me.

“All this time, and you have no idea? Are you serious. You are a unique individual and never questioned why?” His tone was mocking

“The only thing I was told is that my mother was driven insane by the event.” I looked down at my feet and mumbled under my breath, “and that he was a wolf.”

“Oh he was. But not just any wolf.” The second man snarled in my ear. He was inches from being pressed into me now. He was as silent as wind passing in the air.

“Shut it Borsy. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t need to know.” The first man snapped.

So it was true then. My mother had be impregnated by a wolf. Apparently one that was not normal. And one that these men knew.

“Bind her.” Was all the first man said, I had no time to react. By the time I registered what he had said, the second had wrapped a thick rope around my torso. My arms pinned to my sides, and he pushed me forward until I fell face first into the concrete. He kneeled on top of me pinning me down so I couldn’t move. 

He was heavy, and his breath was on my neck. He wrapped the rope around my head and forced it into my mouth, then pulled it tight. It felt like my cheeks were being ripped open. The next wrap went around my legs and when he pulled that part tight he stood. My legs being pulled into the air bending towards my head sharply. I tried to scream, but the rope in my mouth gaged me. 

He tied the two ends together and my neck was pulled back and it felt like it was going to snap. What the hell was I going to do now. Tears were streaming down my face from the pain. And the realization that I was completely at their mercy. The man who had tied the ropes ran his black nail softly down my cheek and neck, I shuddered. When I tried to move away he smacked me, hard. My face was now beat red, wet from tears, and I could taste blood running down from my nose. Hopefully it wasn’t broken, but that was soon the least of my worries. A sharp blow to the side of my head caused me to see stars for a second. Then I blacked out.