SLOWLY BEING REWRITTEN!
People say we're products of our parents. that all of their good traits are passed onto us, that we pick up the bad traits along the way.
But what if our parents have no good traits? What does that make us?
Are we all bad?
K...
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silverfinger
With luminescent paint residue still on their faces and bodies, the four teenagers stood quietly together in the elevator, arms wrapped around themselves, still trying to process what had just happened. Not only had three of them lost their jackets in the clamoring of people rushing from the loft, grabbing everything in sight, desperate to get out before they had to personally face a pissed off Derek Hale, but since they had seen the five warriors, watching what they had done to Aiden, all four of them had a chill in their bodies that just couldn't be shifted. Not until they got the answers they had waited and craved for the past twenty-four hours, the three who'd known about the five mysterious warriors longer than anyone else had given Chris long enough for him to gather his answers, to ensure he had his facts right before he incited fear in the three of them, but it was too late for that now.
All they felt was fear. It just so happened that the one person who could provide them with a sense of relief and those answers hadn't answered their calls.
"I don't get it," Allison mumbled under her breath with a shake of the head, anxiously bouncing up and down as she eagerly watched the small arrow of the elevator travel up each floor, maybe it was her nerves talking, but it seemed to be taking longer than usual, it felt like it had been at least hours since the three of them had left the loft, hours since she had first called Chris for the first time. "He always answers his calls. Always. We should have heard something by now."
The more she spoke the more nervous she become, listing all of the possibilities of what could have happened in her head, none of them were simple everyday reasons for people not replying to calls and texts from their daughter and niece, like sleeping in, or their phone being on silent, that was an average person's thinking.
"I'm sure he's fine." Isaac tried to reassure her with a faint smile.
Something he never thought he would find himself doing was reassuring the huntress beside him that thingers were going to be okay, but he was beginning to learn that he must expect the unexpected, it was an unwritten rule of this town. Everything that ever happened to them was always amongst the unexpected. Him becoming a werewolf. Kinsey was some kind of Angelic creature with a hint of werewolf to her not to mention the fact she was a trained huntress like her cousin and uncle. Even the two of them being a couple had been unexpected.
But what was most unexpected, was a blossoming friendship with Allison after she had stabbed him, almost killed him multiple times, at first it was for the sake of Kinsey, a person they both loved but now, the two of them could actually stand to be left alone in a room with one another without her and the underlying temptation to kill one another. Most of the time at least, there were still odd occasions where they wanted to strangle each other.
Kinsey agreed that everything would be fine as they stepped out of the elevator, only to find that the front door to their apartment was wide open, a trail of scarlet red blood leading from the foot of the elevator to inside the apartment, the floor, the doorframe and even the door handle were all covered with traces of it. Isaac and Scott stepped forward in front of the two girls, an arm spread across them both, prepared to protect them against whatever they might be against.
