Dead Men Tale No Tales [Lucian]

The phone rang while Wesley tried to muffle the sound with the pillow. But the vibration did not stop, no matter how quiet he could make it. "Hello?" a tired voice asked in the darkness. The phone was pressed tight to his cheek and his eyes were barely awake. The hour, which he could see brightly displayed on the alarm clock was 02:30. Two thirty in the damn morning. What kind of person calls that early? A dark and deep voice came over the phone like a gentle whisper.


Wesley said nothing, but turned off the call and rolled himself from the bed. He threw on some clothes, his jeans and a white tee. He walked to the closet and grabbed a flannel shirt for the chilly autumn night. He could hear the wind attacking the walls of their home viciously. He tried to get his boots on in the laziest of ways, but it did not work. The boot feel off his foot and landed on the other one, forcing him to be awake from the amount of pain he felt. He breathed heavily, trying not to wake Loch from his deep sleep. The last thing he would want was trying to explain to Loch that he had to meet a special guest in a secret location at two in the morning. He was finally ready, grabbed his guns, looked at them both, then tucked one into the band of his pants. He didn't know what to expect and honestly, he did not completely trust his honored guest. He walked out of his room and softly closed the door behind him. He walked through the house, tripping over the coffee table in the dark, but clasped his hands over his mouth before he could make a sound. He closed his eyes in pain and soon slipped out of the house. He looked to the military vehicle in the drive way and then to the bike resting against the garage. He decided to take the lesser of the two in noise. As he mounted the bike, his feet stuck hard to the pedals and started pumping his legs. As he moved through the early morning, he could barely see with the exception of the street lights. Once he got into the forest, the darkness seemed to cloud over him. He could only see before him from the moonlight.

As he made his way to the Crossroads, he could feel the wind picking up as the trees started to fade from the area. It was weird, there was like a chilling presence around him. The cold winds slid up the back of his shirts and stuck to his pale skin. He shivered and soon came to a stop. He looked around in the darkness, trying to find his guest. Straight ahead on the tracks of the deserted area, he thought he saw a form walking towards him. So what did he do? Wesley started to walk forward, while a single hand reached behind his back and grabbed hold of the pistol grip of his gun. He took a deep breath and called out to the darkness, "Lucian, show yourself!"

As he hung up his phone, he tucked it into the pocket of his leather jacket. Lately, the Alpha male had taken a liking to this fashion style once more. The fifty's had been a good time to be alive. The greaser life was one to be proud of. It was tough, but being a werewolf had its advantages. Every human he killed, he got a free can of grease for his luscious locks. But tonight he did not dawn the hair grease, instead it was only the jacket. Sadly, Wesley would not get a chance to see his style. The poor human was about to be in a world of hurt. But unlike the manner Wesley killed Diallo, Lucian was going to make it a game, a fun little thing for him to do. It had been a long time since he had killed a human, trying to keep his whereabouts away from the eyes of man. But tonight he would kill the only living person, other than himself, who knew his darkest secret. If the human wished to be a blabber mouth, Lucian would never know. He could have told the humans already, but he highly doubted it. If the human wanted Lucian to do anything for him, he would have to keep his trap shut. The only way he could make sure that would happen is by death. Lucian would have to silence him forever. He stood on the tracks, his human form staring into the night as his wolf eyes did the work to see the human approach. He was nowhere close right now, standing downwind from where his prey would enter. He shifted to his primal form, his daunting black figure stood in the darkness, blending in with the world around him. The only portion of him standing out in the night, his bright green orbs. His deathly stare looked to the moon and then to the earth. When the scent of the human crossed his nose, he knew the hunt was beginning. He lunged for the darkness, sitting in the trees as he waited ever so patiently for his guest to be in position. "What are you afraid of, Wesley? I suggest you release your weapon. You will not need it among friends... Remember? We have a pact?"