Vincent Territory

Chapter twenty | Whats Mine

Sooo.... New Chapter? :D

Note : This chapter will be starting off as a flash back and it will be written in the italics. When it is finished and returns to the present you'll see the change. Just trying to be clear in case any of you get confused. Without further ado, I present to you my lovely readers:

Payne's P.O.V

65 years ago, (The twins were ten)

"Stop!" Ironic really, the word meant to cease the action you were presently doing but in this case it made the act continue.

Father looked me in the eyes as he straightened. His eyes were the same dull black hole in his head that held so much evil in them and if it wasn't because I was accustomed to seeing his face I would have flinched away from the sight.

He had a rough scar running down the right side of his face, beginning at his eyebrow and finishing just beyond his jaw. This added to the menacing look he had together with the scull trim he had. He was the devil's son alright but what did that make me?

"What do you think you're doing boy?" He asked through gritted teeth. Clearly angry that I spoke without his permission but I didn't care. I couldn't help it. My anger took the best of me.

"Stop hitting her please father. Whip me as you please but spare my sister." I begged and met my sister's watery stare. Her eyes were red and puffy as she sat kneeling down on the ground. Her head held high but you could see she was ready to crumble onto the ground. The red streaks on her back from my father's personalized whip made out of barbed wire and silver to permanently leave marks on a werewolf's skin.

I almlst cried at the sight. My blooded sister was being beaten right in front of me and it was all I could do to declare that it be me instead.

The man laughed. A deep, husky noise emitting from his throat and stretched throughout the forest we stood in.

"You wish to spare you sister, with this sudden outburst you have? you are not a hero boy and its best you learn that now. She, here, has to be punished for what she had done, get over yourself boy, you cannot save her!" And with that I was pulled by a grip on my neck that dug into my skin. The rings he wore were always silver and as a werewolf himself he felt the pain but I assumed he loved the feel. The silver marks carved further into me and I held in my scream in chance to prove to my father that I would be strong, if even just to save my sister from his wrath but bravery wasn't awarded by my father. He despised it.

He dragged me across the way so I landed in front of my sister who in front of my father's eyes shifted her own away from me and her face bore no scar or mark because he had often said it was to perfect of a replica of mine mother's to be hurt but now wore the scar of a broken girl on its beautiful canvas.

It broke my heart to see her like this.

"Watch!" He yelled and lifted my head with one hand so I held the stare of my sister once more and she only held her eyes up in fear of him but she had too much to fear when it came to that man we called father.

For the first time, even after my mother died when I was but six years old. I cried.

I cried as he whipped my sister in front of my own eyes and with ever hit and every flinch she made he yelled at me,

"is this what you wanted?"

"Do you feel like the hero now?"

"You are nothing boy!"