The Evolution of Dakota Graves

Confiding In Avery

I could see Avery getting tired, she's had dark rings around her eyes. She's stronger than I thought she was, that's for sure....I'm going to enjoy killing her, I love this competition.

But she massages her forehead.

She must've not known about me....and what I did years back. Everyone wanted to look at me like a hurt puppy that they had to take care of. I remember Brian and Damon struggling to pull me back up, and the traffic beneath me.

"You're tired." I said. I may be the biggest asswhole, but I'm not about to have her kill us from falling asleep on the wheel.

"No...." Avery argues, but her eyes and her silence was all I needed to know.

"Move your ass." I said, she scoots over to the side, leaning her head against the window, she cuts her eyes back at me.

"No killing me in my sleep?" She asks.

"That's harsh, you don't need to be off guard for me to kill you." I said, slightly offended.

Avery closes her eyes, I kept mine on the road.

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Avery complained about almost EVERYTHING. From me being mean, or her wanting to drive. Like shit, I have regretted doing things.

"Let's stop here." She says. It took everything in my self control not to wring her neck.

I pull up into the driveway, she had her head against the window, she was interesting despite her annoying ass. Mysterious.

"What happened to your parents?" I ask.

"They're dead." Avery said bitterly, she turns around so her back was facing me.

She's too sensitive. I can't believe I'm traveling with her. I don't give a damn what anyone thought of me. I don't have to change myself to feel complete. I'm alive on the outside and dead on the inside.

"Are you crying?" I ask, she glares at me.

"No." She snaps.

"I'm not good with crying people." Dakota says with a shrug.

"No wonder." She snaps, her ponytail matted down her back, we reeked of sweat, I could see her black bra behind her blood stained shirt, and her cargo jacket was tied around her waist, her bronze colored skin was drenched with sweat.

"We're here." I said, she opens the door.

Fuck. I had a mother who hated me her whole life and a father who treated me like a fucking animal, but I couldn't imagine how it felt to lose someone who actually cares about you, besides Hannah....I had no one to care about me.

Dad had left me outside in the snow in nothing but shorts, I was skinny, people looked at my hands....they were always bruised so they assumed I was fighting. That I was trouble.

Mom hand threw my hand into boiling water when she caught me turning on the stove. The worst part was, the woman didn't blink. She cursed under her breath as I screamed, she would slap me hard enough for me to get dizzy.

Avery walks towards the house, opening the door with her dagger in her grip, the roamer's jaw drops in hunger as he sees Avery, she kicks him in the shin then stabs him in the head. She walks inside without a word.

This woman had experience. She knew how to kill these things. I was told that it was the head or nothing at all.

I walk in behind her, I was quiet, I walk into a small bedroom with a small twin bed, a woman laid sprawled over the bed, blood on the wall and the bed, she must've shot herself while praying, I pick up her tiny body, she had blonde hair, and pale skin tainted with blood.

I carry her down the hall, and back outside, resting her on the ground.

I walk back inside to see Avery dragging a fat corpse, leaving a trail of blood behind it. I grab it, using both legs to drag it outside.

"Don't you need-" She tries to ask but I stay silent.

"What's your problem?" She asks.

You're still alive. Breathing.

"What's yours?" I ask.

"I'm offering you help and you're just pushing me away." Avery says.

"Oh boo fucking hoo." I grunt, rolling my eyes.

"Asswhole." She mutters as I walk away, I turn around.

"What was that?" I ask.

"Nothing. Could you quit with the poker face?" Avery asks.

"Could you quit with the bitching?" Dakota asks.

"Could you stop being a concieted prick who hardly knows how to show emotions?!" Avery almost shouts.

I'm also a clinically diagnosed fucked up psychopath so there's that!

"You make me fucking laugh." I said emotionlessly with a blank stare.

"You don't know shit, you expect me to be a happy and prance around throwing candy and shit. Well I didn't ask to be this way." I said, she walks closer to me, looking me straight in the eye.

"I'm.Not.Afraid.Of.You." She says slowly, the words slowly but sharply left her mouth, her nose twitches.

"You will be." I said matter-of-factly. "You are." I said.

I corner her, I tower over her. She was, she broke her stare. I could see it. Avery is afraid of me, she was fighting the urge to run away, I could even fling her across the room. But she was afraid. And for some reason, it made me felt like a monster...I am a monster.

"Why are you such an asswhole?" Avery asks.

"Avery you are so fucking hard to deal with. You think you are capable of anything....guess what, reality dipshit!" I said, Avery balls up her fists, she was getting angry. But I don't care.

"You know what? At least I know when I'm wrong!" Avery argues. I'm fucked up, I'm like the venom under her skin, she doesn't know what it's like to be damaged, to be broken. To be a ruthless killer.

I walk away from her, like I would with Daphne, my ex girlfriend, when I set fire to the factory. That man I killed without a second thought.

"Look....I'm sorry." Avery says behind me.

I had my back turned against her. This is real, there is no flying drop kicks or super strength. This is real.

"Leave the fuck alone." I said bitterly. I slightly felt bad about saying that to a woman. Especially when they carry us for nine bloody months and have to deal with the pain and other unfortunate side effects.

"If I see that you're still here, when I kill you, it will be with my bare hands and the pain will be excruciating." I threaten, I hear footsteps, but with a click of the door I turn around and Avery is still here.

"Do I need a mic? Or are you stupid?" I ask, raising a eyebrow.

"What made you so fucked up?" She asks. For a woman like her, she was fucking brave.

I turn around so my back was facing her.

I found myself talking. About Hannah, about Daxton, how she died, how they laughed at our pain, how they kept starving me, how I lit the place on fire without caring.

I felt soft hands grip my shoulders, Avery hugged me from behind.

"I'm sorry." She says.

"Don't pity me. I hate being looked at like a wounded puppy." I said, turning around.

She kept hugging me, awkwardly stepping away.

"I know how it feels, trust me." Avery said, and for a second I believed every word she said.