Chapter fourteen

"Oi! Cyril, what did ya do to ma baby gal? Tears are trailing down her cheeks." Pythius says and all eyes turn to Joan. "I swear on ma left butt cheek, if ya harm a hair on her head, ya won't go off easy like last time."

"Tsk! I thought..." Cyril pauses and takes a sip of the water he took from the refrigerator. "... I thought you wanted us to fight. And last time what did you want me to do? The guy had a gun pointed at me."

"A bloody vacant gun! And ya knew. We were supposed to bring em in for interrogation but ya just had to go and wank all over the situation and make it worse. Anyway, that's in the past. Now I'm telling ya, don't f*cking hurt her."

Cyril looks at him for a while in silence. He sighs then responds, "Sure-sure. Geez. It's not like I was going to anyway. I'm not that heartless you know. She is like family to me." He moves closer to her, standing on her right and staring at her in bewilderment. "I wonder what she is seeing in there to make her cry. All I did was worsen her greatest dreads but what's with the sad tears? Aren't fears supposed to be scary and not sa..." Before all his words could make it out, the left hand of Joan holds them tight in his throat. He holds her arm trying his possible best to set himself free. She takes off her mask with the other hand.

"How dare you! What you did is absolutely unforgivable." Joan says grinning her fangs at him in fury. The goons on standby try to set in but Pythius raises his hand in that 'stand down!' way.

Gagging, Cyril pushes out a few words. "H-how are y-you m-moving?"

"How? Quite simple actually. I just had to cut off the connection your Emo got with my mind. Now tell me. Will I be wrong to snap your neck? "

"Tsk! Then...how...about this!" Cyril says and somehow sets himself free from her clutch. "Now you tell me. How does it feel to lose complete control of your body?"

He asks Joan whose hands are moving on their own head for her throat. She is wincing as she struggles to pull away her hands but they won't listen.

"Tsk! You messed up my suit's collar." He looks at the collar that Joan's claws had cut. "What did you see anyway? What was this fear of yours?"

"Huh? Ya don't even know wha she saw?"

"I don't. I told you, my ability just makes me whisper to the mind what I want and it does it."

"You b-brat! You d-don't even know the w-weight of what you just d-did. I heard you talk to P-Pythius. I am like family right? Then your real f-family must be quite dear. Then how will you feel killing them over and over and over again? I am telling you this. As long as I can still draw breath, I will never forgive you until I have your throat between my jaws."

"Woah! Ain't that a bit scary, love? And Cyril, why would ya do something like that. Not even I would."

"I said it wasn't intentional. I don't control what people see. And it's her fault for having that as her fear after all. What kind of mother thinks of killing her children? She is just..."

*ARRRGHHHH* Joan roars cutting off his speech. Still forcing her hands away, she takes a step forward in the direction of Cyril. The landing of the step leaves cracks in the floor. She takes another step and another dent is made. Closer she was getting to Cyril and closer her hands were getting to her throat.

"I told ya, boy. Howlers get stronger as they get angrier. And careful not to let her fully transform or the howlers in here will react and forcefully turn also."

"You are so dead!" Joan says and simultaneously, her dark eyes turn amber and she pulls away her hands. She snatches hold of him again then hurls him across the room into the wall. She attempts to go for him but like a ghost, Pythius appear before her.

"Oi love, don't waltz in my bar and start wrecking sh*t up."

"You dragged me here remember?"

"Yeah... I now kinda remember. But still, ya better calm down. I don't want a f*cking corpse in ma bloody territory!"

"Step aside Pythius! I won't say it again!"

"Errrrrrr... Nah!"

Joan attacks without hesitance but Pythius holds her hand.

"Oh... Right for the heart! It seems ya still keep ma teachings at heart."

She attacks again, and again he holds that hand as well.

"Right for the throat. Now it is confirmed, ya kept ma teachings in ya soft girly h-" His words get caught off as excruciating pain runs from south to north when Joan drives her knee into his balls. The men present instinctively cover their balls with haste.

"Yo, did you hear that cracking sound?" A goon asks another.

"Woah! You heard it too. Damn! I wonder how his junk is."

"Don't worry. You are such a p*ssy. He is Fenrir. Stuff like that will heal in an instant."

"You sure though? Just look at him."

They turn to Pythius, a great man who has fallen to his knees with hands on his balls and eyes red and watery.

"I don't re-remember teaching you that m-move."

"Yes! My husband taught me. Now out of my way!" She brushes past him but stops when Pythius holds her leg.

"That was-that was something else. Whew! It is finally over. Anitcha husband got no balls? What kind of man teaches this killer move to a woman." He gets on his feet and then grabs her by the shoulder and gazes intently into her eyes. Joan thrusts her claws into his side and he lets out a low yelp. Wincing with pain, he says, "Joan, I'm sorry for what I did to ya. I regret it, I do. Ya know I love ya like a daughter, right? And as any father would do, I wouldn't want ya doing something ya gravely gonna regret. So now remember wha I thought ya: breath in... and then out. Again, in... and out." Joan follows his instructions and slowly, she retracts her claws out of him and they slowly go back to normal. Her fangs begin to also change back to normal. Then tears start to flow down. She buries her face into his chest in a remorseful way and then starts to cry.

"There there. Don't cry, love. You will make ma outfit soaking wet. Oi Rex!"

"Yes, Lord Pythius."

"Check on Cyril, will ya." Rex obeyed. (Sorry for adding this late. Rex is a red-haired boy around the same age as Adam) He goes to where Cyril was hurled to. "He is unconscious sir."

"Geez! That little wanker! Passing out from something like that in the field can mean your death. *sighs* I keep telling him not to depend too much on his power. Love, ya done with ya epiphora crisis?"

"No. Just-just a bit longer...please." Pythius smiles a happy shy smile almost getting teary-eyed.

"J-just take all the time ya need." He manages to say and slowly as if having a second thoughts, puts his arms around her.