(ACT 02) When you love someone, you let them go

WILLIAM VEIL:

The werewolf was gazing down at Winters with such obvious affection and longing—and despite William's many years of seeing other people look at his sister so blatantly like that... quite frankly, this one was kind of making him sick. Or maybe it's the adrenaline coming down a bit.

But judging from the dazed, glassy look Winters was still wearing, William could tell that his sister's mind was mercifully too far away from here to process what the actual hell is going on right now.

Good.

With how much shit his sister's dealing right now, she didn't deserve this kind of bull, William thought, protectiveness, as fierce as fire, surging through him.

He didn’t really know what to feel (despite the way his instinct demands for him to just… book it, snatch Winters away and run to another continent) as the werewolf brushed aside a stray lock of hair from his sister’s face with the back of his hands, absurdly careful not to let those deadly claws graze even an inch of her skin before passing her gently to his arms, his touch lingering, as if he was reluctant to let go.

… It was almost baffling.

Then, the werewolf abruptly twisted away from Winters and William, his gentle expression morphing instantly into pure, unadulterated rage, not a hint of warmth within those eyes as he charged straight towards the Cyclopes’ direction seemingly a blur, claws and teeth bared into an animalistic snarl.

After recovering from his initial shock and the sudden weight pressed on his chest, William gently laid his sister down, making sure that she was still breathing for a moment before quickly pouncing on the distracted vampire watching the fight go down with horrified awe, stabbing his silver arrow deep on its back before the vampire could jump in and decide to help the Cyclopes.

“Why, you miserable little sh–!”

“That's for my sister, you freak!” he yelled.

The vampire growled at William in disgust and punched him square on the jaw in retaliation before William could even move away to dodge. With a pained gasp at the direct hit, William was vaguely aware that the hit was most likely a restrained punch…

But man, it still fucking hurt.

Like a tossed ragdoll, William fell on the floor with a loud thud, blood dripping down from his mouth that he was sure it’s gonna bruise… and for a few terrifying seconds; William was dazed as he stared with wide eyes at the vampire looming over him menacingly, white noise filling his head as he watched the vampire slowly turning to his sister's direction, the look on the vampire’s eyes making his stomach churn in disgust.

Never mind his aching jaw, William swiped one of his arrows to its legs and the vampire stumbled backwards, hissing: “I'll make you regret that you good for nothing, son of a–!”

Despite his still-swimming vision, William forced himself to move, move, move—springing up like a jack-in-the-box and tackled the vampire head on, silver arrow still in hand which he wielded like a blade, slashing and stabbing desperately on every skin that he could reach, even if it’s just shallow cuts that will heal within seconds.

The vampire suddenly grabbed William by the hair and head-butted him. Stumbling for a second, William resisted the urge to cradle his aching forehead and quickly struck the vampire on the gut before it could step away from his range.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, with a frightening show of speed and strength, the Cyclopes and the werewolf wrestled and slammed against one another violently, causing everything around them to rattle and break… that is, until the werewolf suddenly opened his maw and clamped down hard on the Cyclopes’ meaty shoulder before brutally tearing the skin off in a macabre display of blood, spit and flesh flying all over around them.

Then, his thick claws buried deep into the Cyclopes meaty skin before slicing through the Cyclopes chest down to its huge abdomen.

William and the vampire instantly paused in their own fight at the Cyclopes loud, gurgled screams, both vampire and hunter stunned in horror as they simultaneously turned their heads and watched just in time the werewolf literally tear the squirming Cyclopes alive in a messy half.

As soon the Cyclopes fell easily, so smoothly, into two pieces like paper... it disintegrated into blackened ashes at the werewolf’s bare feet.

The werewolf slowly turned its head to their direction, baring his blood-stained teeth to the vampire and then took one threatening step forward as if to say you’re next… and fuck him, William knows he and the werewolf are on the same side at the moment, but even he still took a shaky, step back as well, loud warning bells ringing on his head, his fight or flight instinct kicking at full max.

As if to make matters worse, the werewolf slightly opened that horrible, massive maw of his, bits of flesh and spit still dripping down messily from his mouth down to his chin.

“L̓̇̾̓҉̼͕̖̜̱ȅ̵̻̠̫̎̂e̵̹̘̪̥͙̗̿̋ͪ͒ͅc̨̮̹̯̾͐̒h̬̝͕̠̒́.̠̪̮͎̮̗͕̪͗̿͝,” the werewolf grounded out ominously, dropping into a low crouch, as if prepared to pounce and take down one more prey. And if it weren't for the Cyclopes rotting yellow teeth, this half-shifter of a werewolf would have been the most terrifying shit William has seen tonight and he was a monster mercenary since he was in his late teens.

As though forgetting his original mission, the vampire seemed to grow paler at the direct threat, at the very idea of actual harm on his person.

Without a warning, the vampire suddenly hurled William towards the werewolf who caught him instead of brushing him aside before William face-planted on the floor like a graceless corpse and hurriedly passed the goddess (who was still catatonic) without hesitation.

The vampire all but turned tail and dashed towards the nearest window he could reach, screaming inaudible threats and obscenities at them past shaking lips as he fled to the night.

As soon the vampire was gone, the werewolf practically threw himself next to Winters, causing his side to crash on the stairs (William winced at the too-loud impact; ooh, that’s gotta hurt) but he didn't seem to care, his eyes frantically searching for any injuries on his so-called ‘mate’.

The werewolf hovered closely over his sister’s alarmingly still body with blood dripping from his claws and fangs, looking like a starved beast more than anything.

This scene is a frighteningly, familiar one.

And for a moment, it was another monster with bloody fangs and one that has glowing red eyes flashed across William's mind. Without thinking, William aimed the silver arrow to the werewolf's head, “Get. OFF. OF HER.”

He can barely see his sister's body past the werewolf's towering frame that was practically covering her like a blanket… but he can tell that her eyes were closed shut now, her pale face beaded with cold sweat running down on her temple, features twisting into grimace, as if still in pain.

And there were red and stem-like lines reminiscent of the delicate petals of spider lilies pulsing and glowing at the veins around the back of her neck, her chest and down to her wrists as her body continued to be wracked with visible shudders.

The werewolf—as though sensing the silver in his weapon—froze, clawed hands hovering dangerously over her face before turning to look at him, brows furrowed, as if confused. And William absolutely refused to take a step back despite knowing he couldn’t win against something like this on a fair fight if it actually came down to that, willed himself not to tremble at the sight of gore.

William Veil is a monster mercenary for crying out loud; he wouldn't be intimidated by some happy slashing maniac, not now when his sister is just right there–

“She's... hurt?”

“No, she’s tap-dancing. Fucking hell, man,” William gritted his teeth, completely so done with this shit, he just wanted to finish his report for fuck’s sake. How the hell did it all led up to this? “What do you think?!”

The werewolf growled.

Frightened, shuddering, suddenly William felt like he was a helpless starving child again, back in the depths of a depraved King’s dungeon.

He was watching the same scene (he can still see it, vividly, in his mind’s eye), helpless with people always teetering close to death's door around him while that bastard was feasting over a screaming Winters as she flailed and squirmed so uselessly in his grasp with no intention of stopping any time soon—her barely dried blood mixing with new ones, pouring from old and new open wounds.

All the way from his monstrous mouth, splashing into her eyes like waterfalls, his sister was going to be eaten, he’s going to kill her for real–!

He can still hear her screams.

“W-Will… liam, please,” the werewolf suddenly grounded out, violently rousing William back to the present, “We're... s-safe now.”

William stared blankly at him.

...safe? Safe?!

He and sister were never safe. Not when their father died in a burning house, not when that awful vampire had set his eyes on Winters and dragged them away from one hell and brought them straight to another. Not even when his sister became an immortal goddess did they ever become safe.

Nothing and nowhere is safe.

William shook his head, angrily, “Just... get the hell away from her!”

Brows still drawn as if confused, as if in pain, the werewolf regarded William for a moment, obviously hesitating with something... before slowly (clearly more reluctant) taking his bloodied hands away from his sister's face.

Then, he stood up.

William didn't know if he blinked or not, but the next thing he knew, the werewolf was just standing there... right there and then, at the next second–

He was gone.

For a fleeting moment, it occurred to William as he hurriedly threw his arms around his sister's still shuddering frame… that the werewolf may as well be the main reason why she had been on guard all day, the reason why she had told him to specifically get a crossbow.

...Winters, for some reason, had clearly been expecting the werewolf to show up.