The House Of Wolves (BxM/Mpreg/Werewolf)

(4) {Revised}

Third Person POV

"Greg! Grab the duffle bag!" The shrill, demanding call of a hefty woman echoed down the stairs to where her husband was watching The Sports Network.

"Woman! I'm trying to watch my damn Football! If you need something, get the lazy bitch to do it!" He replied while clenching the can of beer in his hands tightly before taking a rather large sip, gulping down the bitter ale.

"Just get your ass up here!" The woman called again, anger, fear and annoyance rimming her words.

Whatever, Greg thought as he heaved himself up and went to the closet where they store all travel items. He selected his wife's favourite then made his way upstairs to find something he certainly did not expect.

His nephew was unconscious, sprawled on the floor, bones and limbs bent at odd angels and bleeding like a faucet.

"What did you do?" He gasped. He nudged Jasper with the tip of his shoe but when he made no movement, Greg knew they were screwed.

"He was being disrespectful and just a little shit!" She growled.

"And you couldn't hold back? Look at the mess you need to fix now!"

"Me?" The red-haired, brown-eyed woman stared incredulously. "Oh no, this isn't just my problem. He's your biological nephew, I'm your wife and when we recited those vows, you said, 'through thick and through thin', this is one of those thin moments."

"My thin, I think the plaster meant dept, health or mental sickness! Not bloody murder of a minor who is under our guardianship mind you!" Greg yelled, clenching his fists like their air tightness would somehow solve the problems of the murderous duo. After a few deep, deep, deep breaths, Greg calmed the anxiety rising within his chest. "What the hell do you think we should do then, Lena?"

Lena paused for a second then her head shot up. "I got it!"

In the darkness of night, shadows formed by the yellow glow of street lights danced back and forth but two figures, a man height and a woman of girth could be seen.

Together, they held a large black duffle bag as they made the long trek from the back of the house, along the unlit ally separating their home from the neighbours down the drive way to the locked pick-up truck.

The woman unlocked the car as her companion grunted and he tossed the bag over the walls of the bed, not caring about the still breathing contents and not even flinching at the sickening sound of the poor abused boy in the black bag landing in the bed of the trunk with a disgusting thump of bone banging the metal floor.

"Lena, I don't know how you could be so careless. Wether you like it or not, people will ask questions about where he is no matter how they feel about that disgusting waste of space and air," the mans' intimidating voice quietly scolded his wife.

"They all know he's a little murderous fag. We'll clean up his room with bleach and make it presentable by replacing the mattress with an actual bed. Maybe even plaster the cracks in the wall. We should also take the glass off the outside of the window sill and even take that lock off the outside of his door. By the time people notice, the smell of bleach will be gone and we'll simply say he ran away with his boyfriend because he was a disrespectful bitch who thought he could make it on his own."

"What about the lack of a police report? Obviously as good guardians, we'd need to file one," Greg asked, curious about how much his partner thought this through. Although he was slightly appalled at his wife's ability to kill so cold heartedly, it was only one of the homosexual demons of the world.

"We'll simply say we met the boy and he seemed like such a nice kid we felt no need to bring the fine law enforcers of our peaceful town in on the family matter. We can drop him off two or three towns over in a dumpster. He'll be dead by the time they find him and we'll make it look like it was the boyfriends fault. We can give them a false name, age, appearance... They'll go on a wild goose chase until they find out he's not real. Then we'll play the victims concerned family, crying about how out innocent nephew was taken advantage of," the evil woman cackled.

"The rest of the town would leave it at that, with no questions asked. The little hellion was a murderer after all and who wants that around," Greg clued in with a look of thoughtfulness. "This could certainly work."

"Of course, my dear. Of course."

As they made their way into the cab of the truck, they shot plans for the disposal of their nephews beaten and battered, almost lifeless body before they began their journey to Ravens Port.

When the duo arrived at their destination behind and old, abandoned movie theatre, they quickly but effectively stepped out of the car and climbed into the cab, successfully removing the evidence of their abusive tendencies.

Lena gripped the two short handles and swung the bag-none to gently-to Greg who intern manhandled their almost lifeless nephew as he made his way to the rusted dumpster.

With a grunt, Greg tossed the boy into the dump and listened as the sound of bone and flesh banged against metal.

With a accomplished grin, Greg stepped around the disposed ratty chairs and blankets and up to the tin wall of the large rectangular box and peered in, trying his best to ignore the putrid smell of rotting garbage, food and... other wastes...

Jasper, zipped tightly into the black duffle bag, was crunched, legs to arms to torso. His chest was barely moving with the short, shallow breaths his lungs were taking and the faint bump of his heart was practically non-existent.

With an overwhelmingly large feel of self achievement, the disgusting couple hurriedly scrambled to the red car and stepped on the gas, unfazed and uncaring about how they just guaranteed the end of someone's life.

"When do you think they'll find it?" Lena mused, after ceasing to call her adoptive child the mere title all human beings deserve.

"Couple of weeks maybe considering this trash is never used and this road is barely traveled. He's also not in plain sight. Probably a homeless person with stumble across his and even then, they probably won't want to draw attention to themselves. We're home free. But enough about that. What will we do with the extra space?" Greg smirked.

"I was thinking an art room or maybe an exercise room," Lena cackled while throwing her head back and scrunching her beady eyes shut.

"Oh the possibilities!" Greg chuckled while flicking the left indicated and turning to the left.

All was quiet for a second before Lena broke the silence. "Do you think we'll get caught?" For the first time since committing the heinous act, regret seeped into Lena's words.

Regret, not for her actions towards Jasper, but the possibility of the police finding the body and linking the murder to Lena and Greg. They have never committed an illegal act so the cleaning of evidence was something that was new to the duo.

Because after all, orange was defiantly not Lena's colour...