•Chapter Ten•

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Trigger warning: Suicidal thoughts

"We're not that different, you and I." - Bastille, Two Evils, 2016

Jim did a terrible job at pouring the wine into the glass, some spilling onto the table. Chugging it back in one go, he reached from the bottle and went on to drinking from it. Looking at the empty bottle of wine, he ran a hand through his hair and planted his view onto the barren glass, taking it into his tensed hand and throwing it to the wall with a growl, watching it break and fall to the floor in little pieces. Breathing heavy, Jim's eyes turned yellow and his veins pulsed.

His wolf was not one with him, filled with rage and paranoia. One minute he was quite content, letting Jim walk about the streets of London completely free of suspicion, and the next he was getting his host riled up, making him afraid and paranoid. Hoping to steady his nerves, Jim took another drink and breathed in relief, the alcohol seemingly doing the trick.

"If Mother and Father could see me now...how disappointed they would be. Their eldest son, turning to drink when he should be supporting his sister through this terrible time we are both facing. If Bunny were to hear news of this...I have no doubt in my mind that she would leave me for another. What kind of husband would I be to her if I were to lose control? What if...what if I hurt her whilst being influenced?"

Jim held more on his mind other than the fear of hurting Bunny. He had fears of hurting Hanna and Sophie, the possibilities enlarging that he could harm anyone if he was not careful. Westman and Nicky, they were in danger too. No, he was going to do his best to keep his wolf under wraps, show him that he was the dominant identity.

"You are a human," he kept repeating to himself over and over. "You are a good human being with consideration for others. Never will you be a beastly werewolf."

"You're contemplating who you really are, aren't you?" Ollie asked, reading a book on werewolves. He had knowledge of his kind, though there were things that even he didn't know. "Yes, I understand how you are feeling. I contemplate who I am most if not all of the time."

Jim turned to face him, curious. "Really?"

Ollie nodded, putting the book down and sitting up in his seat. "Indeed I do. When you have been a werewolf since birth, there are a lot of things to think about. For example I one day dream of being human, so that I will not have to transform into a horrible creature during the full moon or when my emotions get too much to bear. Judging from your scent, you have been bitten quite recently, so I assume you were originally a human?"

"Yes, I was." answered Jim, remembering said times. "I made a terrible mistake underestimating the power of the supernatural. It is something I never usually do, though somehow I lost my guard. And now...I am forever cursed to be a werewolf."

Ollie's brow rose, doing his best to fake confusion. "Cursed, you say? That is quite interesting. Can you elaborate on that?"

Jim felt a shiver tease his spine, making him shudder as though a cold presence had just entered the room. "I dare not say his name, for I fear he may be listening. If I tell you, do you promise my words will remain between us?"

"I promise, Mr Penderry." Ollie said sincerely. "As a fellow werewolf, I see your well being as being important. Proceed with what you have to say."

Jim went back to that fateful night, the night were it all began. He could still hear the screams of both himself and Westman, even when he shut his eyes to sleep they rang clearly in his ears. It was torture, absolute horror. If he could count the sleepless nights he had had, then he might as well of been dead. A silver bullet would have done it, though he was saving that for a...special occasion. "The night my friend and I were cursed to be these vicious creatures is one I will never forget. I remember the horrid smirk on his face as he looked into my eyes. It was almost like he was feeding off of my fear. He humiliated us both, made us act like scared little children."

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