Eclipsed Hearts

Back to Reality

[Bailey]

As we reached the staging house, I grew frustrated with Ian’s silence. I knew that telling him I thought children were monsters, too, would make him think I was more like the other hunters. What I hadn’t realized was how much like me he was. Much of my frustration was because I would have hated me, too.

When people back home bragged about how many monsters they saved the world from in their raids, I knew several were likely to be children. Some of my family members would go on the raids, but wouldn’t hurt kids. Sadly, they also wouldn’t stop anyone else.

Ian probably imagined I was one of those. The ones who wouldn’t take part, but also wouldn’t stop anyone else. In a way, I guess I was. I stayed away from those family members and wouldn’t talk to them after hearing them brag. But how could I stop them?

I was a child myself the first time I heard someone saying it. They were adamant in their insistence that those children would grow into monsters. None of them thought there was any way to save those kids from growing up to become werewolves.

Ian and I got out of the car. He walked to the door, and I followed. I waited while he unlocked the door and trailed in behind him.

The air inside the staging house seemed to absorb the tension between us and amplify it. I could sense Ian’s unease. His jaw clenched as he moved further into the room. Ian moved with purpose, lighting a lantern and setting it on the table in the center of the room.

“I’ll get on putting together a plan. I have something important to do tomorrow evening. There is a messaging app we can both download and we can make the connection there,” Ian said as he pulled out a laptop and started turning it on.

“Why don’t you want me to have your phone number?” I asked.

“Because it’s not your business. We can reach each other in other ways.”

“We’re both hunters. We should be able to trust each other, especially the fact that we’re partners for this hunt,” I said.

Ian glanced up from the laptop, his expression unreadable. “Trust is earned, not given freely,” he replied curtly. His fingers danced across the keyboard as he pulled up a map of the area on the screen.

I could feel a wave of frustration building within me at his dismissive attitude. But I knew better than to push him further. Instead, I took a deep breath and tried to steer the conversation back to our mission.

“Fine, we’ll do it your way. Just make sure we have a solid plan in place,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.

Ian nodded, his focus fully on the laptop screen. After a few more moments, he turned the computer around and I saw a website for an app that some teens in my family had. I raised an eyebrow at him. From what a younger cousin said, most people use it for affairs and online flirting.

“Do you have a problem, Damson?” he asked.

“No,” I answered.

I downloaded the app as Ian explained how we could communicate securely through it. We had usernames, and that was how we connected. He sent me a friend request, and we shared a message to ensure that we had a message securing the connection.

After we were sure it was working, he turned the computer back and stopped paying attention to me. I was obviously being dismissed. The conversation we had earlier made me less inclined to push him into trying to be friendly.

Shaking my head, I turned and left the house. In the cool night air, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. As much as I wanted to trust my partner, his secretive nature and guarded demeanor left me on edge.

It was like I was supposed to accept that he wanted to be secretive and just move on, but anything about me pissed him off, and I was just supposed to let him be an asѕhole. He refused to accept any effort I made to connect with him and instead twisted it into an assault on him.

If not for the fact that my uncle was sure the werewolf we were after was the one who killed my family, I would have given up. I wanted to leave, but not more than I wanted to avenge my family. Once I had proof of it and I killed that werewolf, I could end my career as a hunter. I had the money to buy myself out of the family. My uncle was unlikely to make me pay, but I wanted to do it to help the family.

As I walked alone in the night, my mind filled with conflicting emotions. The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie light on the deserted streets. Despite Ian’s standoffish behavior, the memory of my family’s tragic fate fueled my determination to see this hunt through to the end.

I knew that vengeance wouldn’t bring back my loved ones, but it was the only way I could find closure. The weight of my purpose pressed down on me, urging me to steel myself for the challenges ahead.

Lost in thought, I blankly wandered toward my motel. Why did the idea of Ian hating me hurt so much more than when anyone else hated me? How could I get rid of this feeling? I hated it.

Ian’s words replayed in my mind, his icy demeanor and refusal to open up gnawing at me. I knew our partnership was tenuous at best, built on necessity rather than trust.

With each step, the weight of my past and the burden of seeking vengeance pressed heavily on my shoulders. The cool night air whispered through the alleys, carrying the scent of impending rain. When you hunted, you became as familiar with scents as the creatures you were hunting. There was an undeniable thickness in the air when rain was nearing.

That focused me on my path and destination. Perhaps taking a day off would be a good idea. I needed the time to work out my feelings about this situation and Ian.

Maybe it was because the werewolf was the one who killed my family. Some part of me wanted more support while I was hunting the creature, and Ian wasn’t giving me what I wanted. I wished Mari was still alive.

She was my rock for most of our childhoods. I arrived at my motel, got inside, and locked the door. Shivering, I pressed my back against the door and slid to the floor.

The weight of my grief and frustration settled around me like a heavy cloak, suffocating me in its darkness. I closed my eyes, trying to push away the memories that threatened to overwhelm me. Images of my family flashed through my mind - their laughter, their smiles, their love. And then, the very creature I am now hunting brutally took my family away from me.

I clenched my fists, feeling the familiar surge of anger and determination rise within me. I couldn’t afford to dwell on the past or let my emotions get the best of me. This hunt was not just about vengeance anymore; it was about justice, about bringing closure and healing my heart.

Knowing that whoever killed my family was out there living their own lives as if they hadn’t destroyed us all that night was keeping it fresh inside me. I sat there in the darkness, the weight of my grief and anger bearing down on me. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

The ache of loss mingled with the sharp pang of betrayal from Ian’s demeanor, creating a storm of emotions within me. I knew I couldn’t afford to dwell on these feelings for long; the hunt awaited, and my family’s justice hung in the balance. But for now, in the solitude of my dimly lit room, I allowed myself a moment of vulnerability.

As the rain began to tap against the windowpanes, I let the rhythmic sound wash over me, soothing the raw edges of my emotions. Tomorrow would be a time to deal with these feelings and get myself to a place where I could cope with Ian and the strain of the hunt.

After a few minutes, I got up and undressed, then put on my cozy pajamas. The thick, fuzzy pants and long-sleeve knit shirt were both soft and comforting. I pulled the comforter off of the bed, opened the curtains, wrapped myself in the comforter, and sat in the beaten armchair, watching the rain.

My heart and head felt empty. My tears fell like the rain.

When I was young, I struggled because I have always hated crying. Often, I would get angry when I felt tears building up. My aunt’s voice popped into my head.

“We’re allowed to be sad sometimes, Bailey, but if you don’t want to cry when the sky is clear, remember that it is okay to cry in the rain. That is the time to let God wash away your pain.”

I always remembered it when it rained. Those were the days when it was okay to cry. I know it wasn’t what she was telling me. Those weren’t the only days it was okay, but it felt right.

Tonight, I would cry. Tomorrow, I would plan and pack my feelings away. Once the werewolf was dead, I would be gone and never have to deal with any of this ever again.