Rejection on the Alpha #1
20

CHAPTER 20: A Cry of Tally-Ho

I look around, not terrified, but lost. Those three girls I was following before got lost in a crowd of illusions by the smell of it. None of them were here, no sweat to sent in the floral air. It smelt of roses, and a citrus of lime and orange, like an orchid of some kind, only among the bright colours was the red-tailed, orange-furred Fox I saw being chased not more than a few second ago.

It looked at me.

Purposely, among the crowd, it craned its head back to look into my eyes, it’s deep blue ones beckoning me to follow like a puppet on strings and just like that, I followed. Moving through the crowd, across the bonfires, “Wait!” I call out, not getting anything from it, just hesitating at the déjà vu feeling creeping up my neck as I look back to the trees and still see nothing. Martin, Alice, Serena...they were all gone.

I turn back from the fires around me and move further into the trees, ducking at a few bushes lowered down and following the creature, not recognising the change in the air until the fog and mist curls around my legs like white snakes shooting from the dirt. I run now, the orange blur flickers before I’m shoved off my feet and I scream at the sudden hall of the world shouting at me. I fly down and knock with a palpating force that rips my rib cage apart as I fall down a dirty hill of tree branch and dirt, grime and filth before groaning at the flat moment of concrete, of the sound of cars beeping and fumes.

What the hell?

I search for an explanation. I was in the woods and now I’m standing on a concrete flooring, in front of a building that wasn’t far from the main city of London I believe. I smelt the air, it was one powerful illusion, to formulate the same air. Not only that, to shove someone from the woods, to a city structure in one of the most advanced simulations I’ve ever known.

All that I truly did know about this hell hole, is that they weren’t tampering with my brain—meaning I’m not actually sitting in a chair right now, tied up to a bunch of wires, I was actually here, and Martin—he was actually, physically with me before that shield or wall of some kind slammed between us the second I saw that fox.

I heard the sound of a raging, ear-popping beep. And then my mind swirls to something I never wanted to see.

A memory.

"They’re uncertain whether working for the supernatural council is of benefit to some orphans quite like her. She did not respond well to particular treatments that was advanced in her diagnostics, Agent. I did quite know who requested the child be put through combat training?” The nurse, she stood there like a concerned fool when it was obvious she had an agenda. The man in front of me, he said his name was Agent K. Only gave me initials.

“You said she shifted easily, under command, that isn’t common for an eleven year old.” The man says, his eyes illuminating in the dining room. Only I wasn’t sitting in that room, instead I was in the hallway, skin tight in cold night clothes, the bruises on my wrists from cuffs against the bed. Like each other werewolf orphan must do for the safety of any human orphans that were upstairs too. Agent K sniffs the air, he knows I’m there, except he doesn’t pin-point it.

“Yes, she did. Why is it not common for creatures like you?” The distaste under her tongue was hidden well. I was about to move, back upstairs, given its all I could do. Before the step creaked and before I could shoot up the staircase, he was kneeled by the seat.

The nurse stood there behind him, glaring at me, “You’re supposed to be in bed.” She says to me.

“Leave us a moment.” Agent K says to her, staring at me, he’s in a pristine suit with a white collar and a blue tie, thinner than that of a lawyer, but thicker than that of a rookie. He wasn’t just any cop or agent of some kind, I recognised his face just from seeing it once, he’s an associate to a council member I had seen once, taking up operations that would make the Whitehouse look like a red carpet circus.

I stare at him, he gestures me closer, out of the shadow of the stairs, the light of his SUV outside, it silhouetted the lounge and the railing of the stairs I’m on now. I step down and take a slow seat in front of him, he stares into my eyes, “Celestine Colton, correct?”

“Yes, sir.” I answer correctly.

He studies me, “It’s just Kade. Your wrists have not healed, while it is mandatory, they are pushing the boundaries of such an institute. Come with me. I need you packed and ready in five minutes, understand.” He says to me, pulling his phone out as I stand, I grab a small bag and a jacket, not once looking back before I’m followed, or rather directed to the black car with the beaming lights directed to the house of multiple stories. I step inside the car, willingly.

Next to me sat Councilman Charles, he hands me a small card, “Take this, this will be your initiation, girl.” Agent K sits taut in the front, gesturing to the driver as the car reverses and I’m handed a file of a possible terrorist attack, and that I will be on point for the mission as my initiation to gaining the next level.

“What about the orphanage?” I ask him.

He stares straight forward, “You have quarters at head office. Now, read the one you will act as for the mission tomorrow evening. I will not have sloppiness, new recruits tend to show it the most. I want a different story for you.” He says to me, before I moved my eyes back to the file in front of me, the Red Fox Foundation.

The Red Fox Foundation.

That was when I knew, when I stood in front of the exact position that plagued the minds of those more gloomy and dark than all agents. I stare at the building in which the fox ran to before the mist screwed up my vision. I tense when I look at it, moving forward in a fashion that said I walked and talked like a damn cop. I swallow, hearing the sound of a school choir, the Red Fox was a school choir when I was eleven, on my first mission which was an Agent initiation step into first class of the council. The way they recruited their agents was from when they are young. To build on loyalty and trust, sacrifice without question and torture that required suffering, but to stay secretive, and reliable to the council. Starting young is an extreme I understood, but didn’t say I ever liked or agreed with.

I step inside, the door creaks, the main room and chairs stacked, tidied up as if the place hadn’t been in use since that time all those years ago. I stare at the exits, before making my way to the stairs, passing the bathroom I used to track the attacker who tried to kill the President of France in that near bombing, had I not been there and made my first kill, to a forty-year old male with training the tripled my expertise back then, and I made a shot to the heart because it’s all my wolf senses could track at the time.

I open the door to the stairs and lift up, looking around before stilling. I look to the reflection on the shiny wooden railing, and I duck, swiping my leg out and kicking the vampires legs out from under him, I rip one of the railing panels out and roar as I whip it around. The deadly red eyes of the vampire stood in front of me. I whack him across the neck, dodging the blood that sprays for me. I spin around at the sound of the hissing of footfalls that only vampires could make.

I move up the stairs, two at a time, level by level, each felt longer, slower, more like lounging steps that felt harder and harder to reach. I was already hating every minute of what I was dealing with. It brought back something I hid deep. Something I wanted to remove, even from memory. I kick open a door on the top level and shove it closed, dragging a metal unit of some sort in front of it and breathing heavy, I move slowly backwards, staring at the banging of the door. The way they moved, mutated vampires, was something that could chase a child’s nightmares all the way to adulthood.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

I shiver, spinning around just to look for an escape, and in the moment, I didn’t think, I just jumped. It wasn’t real, so I took that leap of faith and landed on the next building, before forward rolling on a grey panel, and that orange ball of fur in the distance. I follow, feeling the leap of those creatures after me. I leap again for another landing, before screaming when the side of it stabs my ribcage. I scream at the liquefying pain that shoves me to the ground floor of the maze and I slam down on my shoulder. It resonates as if I were sitting in an electrocution chair and zapping against it like a patient in an asylum being tortured back to insanity for knowing something they shouldn’t.

I grunt and look up, seeing the shadows move in the darkening of the sky. I grunt and pull up, running—almost stumbling as I grit my teeth and run with a hand gripping my side, blurred out and pained as I sprint for whichever direction can point me to the safest. I should have kept held of the metal weapon.

I should have done this.

I should have done that—wrong fucking time to have regrets, Celeste.

I jolt when a red-eye lands in front of me, dodging her first attack, I punch her directly in the nose, I grab her arm and flip her over my shoulder, ripping her arm off in the process, I whip around and kick my legs up, pumping my blood faster with a boost of adrenaline with my hair rippling in waves behind me. I kick down a red door in front of me, roaring when I slam it shut against five red vampires behind me and breathing in at the shock of how close I would have been to being ripped apart by those things.

I cough out, holding my ribs and stilling at the sound of gasps behind me. I spin around and my eyes widen.

“NO! ALICE! ALICE!” I yell out, punching the vampire on top of her, and slapping it so hard that it’s neck snaps and it drops to the side like a bug. I drop down next to Alice, shaking in something akin to devastation as rings of her guts hang out of her open belly. Her blood choking me and her bloodied face and eyes on me. She swallows, still alive while I grab a hold of her hand.

I couldn’t tell her she was okay.

I couldn’t tell her she would heal from this, all I could do was hold her little hand, “Where is Warner?” I whisper, before shaking my head, “No, don’t speak, I—I...” I trail off, incapable of knowing what to do. I paused, because knowing her for only a short amount of time, and talking to her meant something.

So sitting next to her now as the last person she sees before death was...heartbreaking.

I wouldn’t normally use that word. Not to describe this. She’s alone, she couldn’t fight against the vampire and she couldn’t die fast enough to remove the suffering and pain I can imagine she feels, “You know, that dancer in front of me at the ball, he’s got a family. I—I am responsible for putting him in that hospital bed. Not Reina. Not even fucking Martin, who’s made my life hell since I said No because in my heart, I know I can’t love him. I know I can’t love because an Agent does not love.” I whisper the truth down to her.

Her eyes are flickering, I grip her hand tighter, “The story you told me about Warner, about how he hurt you and killed your family. The way Torrence took over what was rightfully yours is the kind of devastation that should be eradicated. What he did, what he’s done, it shouldn’t be stood for but the fact you allowed it, it means he saved you in a way where killing your family gave you the kind of freedom that maybe no one could ever understand. And I’m sorry that I judged you for that. I’m sorry that not knowing everything when I should’ve. That publicly rejecting Martin was wrong and hurtful, but it was my truth. I don’t love him. I don’t even remotely like him and that can make me a bitch. It can make me foul and inhuman and sometimes a killer of another thing that people say to cherish against all odds. But no one will listen.” I breathe out, choking up.

“The way I didn’t listen to you. Warner—he killed your family and you still had his children, you still showed emotion at the illusion of a dancer with her hands all over him and his anger and regret because those games were created by a man who’s lost all respect from me. Who once had my loyalty. Charles. Kade. I buried the lies and saw the council as the family I wish I had, and the betrayal of them burns. It burns me and I don’t know what to do. Leaving home to be forced and punished because I can’t love Martin Julius and people hate me for it. But no one is willing to see from the point of view of an orphan’s cry. The cry of a tally-ho.” I whisper.

The cry of a fox who wore a wolf’s pelt but for once in all a werewolf’s lifetime, she didn’t want this skin, and she didn’t want this life.

I sniffle, staring into the dead eyes of Beta Alice, of Alpha Alice, “No one will listen to an girl who doesn’t want to be owned or held back, just like you. It’s why I saw you and saw the reflection of someone who was only a few years ahead of me and I was so scared. Alpha Martin may be less of an abusive dick compared to all other Alphas, but they all care more about power and they hunger for it that they are the most aggressive of animals. A trait in animals of bigger muscle, of thicker, larger horns, they fight for their females but they’re so hyper aggressive, they aren’t chosen because they could kill those females. They could eradicate their own females because of their uncontrolled rage. No one will listen and you gave up on your audience, Alice. I need you to...I need this to be over.” I whisper. Holding her head. She stares into nothing, the last tear drips down and I crack, dropping my head into hers and crying out. It shattered me, seeing this, feeling this.

She didn’t deserve this.

“SHE DIDN’T FUCKING DESERVE THIS, YOU BASTARD CHARLES!” I roar.

My anger towards him had been dormant over the years, the anger of using a child just to get what he wanted. I felt it heating up in my veins the way a fire starts in an oven, the way it ignites and flames along the ceiling of the appliance. It floats around me while I flick out the only weapon that was on the floor, the shadows around me move, but I swing, imaging the faces and bodies of those in the council, of Martin and it makes me fight harder, it makes everything stronger as I rip apart the enemy of my shadows. Each head, each splatter and drop of blood stains the concrete, illuminating, heated lights flicker in the dead brokenness of the air. I slice the last one in half and see the scattering of bodies across my vision kill the adrenaline I had going for me. Dropping the weapon, I spin to move back to Alice.

But instead, in her position, lies a goddamn robot, faceless, like the vampires I just fought. Their robotic faces are twitching around me. I can’t breathe it in, it slopes a concentration gradient in my bloodstream that falls wrong, falls without precision or purpose. It slides and has a slick voice that chuckles at the blood and screams at the happiness. It’s vile and it’s always there, clinging onto me.

And then, there in the middle, before the blur of orange steps to my line of sight.

I don’t think. I just run.

All I can fucking ever do...is run.

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