No one knew better than Emma Watson that the Formonix warehouse sheltered secrets about her parent’s gruesome murder. She believed that some truth lingered within the walls of the organization. However, the only problem was that no one else believed her.
For some strange reason, everyone urged her to drop the case and bury her nose in another one.
‘These are people you don’t want to mess with.’ Her boss would say every time she discovered a clue leading back to the warehouse.
‘They are dangerous people, Emma, even the government knows not to mess with them.’ Her partner had warned her. Why was everyone trying to get her to drop the case?
Eleven years ago, her parents were murdered mysteriously. Their killer had taken her world and twisted it into a sad version of what it had once been. She was just a little girl, with a shattered heart.
She didn’t remember a time in her life without grief. She couldn’t recall a life where she went shopping with her mum or dressed up for Halloween. She had known a life of pain, sadness, and loneliness.
She remembered a life that was either brutally depressing or hard. She had never experienced a life of safety or security, never experienced a life she wasn’t scared of uncertainties or suffering the fate of her parents.
As a child, she struggled to deal with her emotions, but as an adult, she learned to survive and fight back.
Everything that happened on the night of her parent’s murder led to whom she had eventually become. A detective. She wasn’t going to drop the case. No. She was going to find the people who stopped her from smiling even before she had a chance to.
She had grand plans for them, they would hate it, but it was the only way she could find peace. Nobody was going to stop her, especially when she was so close to the truth. So close.
Which was a very strong reason she was lying-belly down in the dust and shadow of a stand of trees, watching as people moved in and out of the heavily guarded warehouse.
Emma had no fear of infiltrating into the building; she had ensured to disguise as one of the workers, and days of working on her clothing and accent had made her into a fair imitation of the fierce-looking people who had populated the warehouse and its surrounding organizations.
Her overall matched theirs exactly. She had ensured to bleach the material, and the result was a plain gray old-looking baggy overall, which hung loosely on her body.
She had worn a pair of unfashionable black boots, which were stuffed with stockings to fit her size. Black gloves covered her tiny feminine hands, and she wore no makeup. She had let her hair down carelessly, masking any significant feature that would give her away.
Emma believed it was the perfect appearance and her plans were solid enough. Also, it was dark. The perfect time to sneak up on your enemies.
If she didn’t want to be seen, she wouldn’t- besides, she had all the expertise of a great detective. She was capable of protecting herself.
Yet, the repeated warnings she had received concerning her investigation echoed in her mind.
‘They are not to be messed with…’
Those words were enough to send a cold chill of terror down Emma’s spine. She shuddered, swallowing heavily, and repeatedly, as she tried to shake the thoughts out of her mind.
Her boss was only trying to force her to drop the case. Nothing more. At least, that was what she told herself.
As long as she wanted to discover the truth about her parent's mysterious death, she would remain strong through it. She would have to listen to nobody but herself because nobody was willing to dig up the past with her.
There was a ripple of movement among the men who guarded the warehouse. Emma realized that the gate had been opened and the workers from the last shift were pouring out. That was her cue.
She made her way through the crammed group of people heading into the warehouse, staring unblinkingly at the large number of people who were working at such a late hour. If there weren’t walking on two legs, Emma would have sworn they were not humans.
She glanced over at the man walking beside her. He was enormous, they all were. She held her gaze for a moment; uncertainty filled her brown eyes. She hadn’t realized how many flaws were in her plans. She was convincingly smaller and different from the people pouring into the warehouse. And somehow, she thought they were faster too. She could turn around. The case would be closed, and she would never know the truth. She could start a new life and put her past behind her. She could admit to her boss and her partners that they were right, and she had been wrong for years. But if she didn’t? It seemed like a clean death if she failed. She could turn around and slip away before anyone noticed her. But everything in her rebelled at the thought. It had been a long since she had investigated the case and planned to infiltrate the warehouse. Giving up was useless now. She would never have peace.She continued to force her feet towards the warehouse, struggling to keep up with the pace and movement of the people surrounding her. Her oversized boots did nothing to assist her.
Soon, she made her way into the large building, easing from the compression of bodies that had scattered all over the place.Emma couldn’t get her mouth to close for more than a few seconds at a time. Everything was so strange, dark, and big.
She had been working for months to get a view of the place, and she was standing smack dab in the middle of it. What surprised her the most was the agility and speed of the workers inside the dimly lit building.
She had heard stories of the warehouse, heard tales of the sudden disappearances of people who went snooping around for what happened within the organization. She’d always assumed they were just stories.
For the past few months, all her investigations led back to the very place she was standing in. She had questions that could only be answered within the organization.
Her curiosity had dared her to do the riskiest thing she had ever done as a detective. And there she was, standing in a warehouse with over a hundred people who she knew nothing about.
She straightened her shoulders, and a wave of confidence washed through her as she clenched her jaw and proceeded to join other workers who had already started with their work. That was her chance to pick up clues. She wouldn’t let fear stop her from getting to the truth. There were crates heaped over around the building. There were stacks and stacks of them, and they were sorted into groups by the workers. Her mind echoed with her first plan. ‘Find out what’s in those crates…’ She spotted a group of women who worked silently at the corner and moved to join them. Upon reaching them, she observed them and took a step back, frightened by their callous eyes and massive size. They all seemed to sense her at the same time because they paused immediately, their hands falling limply by their side and their eyes peering at her. She met their gazes briefly, hating the dread and helplessness that washed over her. Something was not right. Something was wrong with the atmosphere. Or was
Her mind was steering all sorts of things she liked to keep away. But she needed all the ideas and brutality in the world if she was going to survive. Ten meters, or more as she figured it, people were surrounding her. Eleven. Her eyes counted them. And they were staring at her with such hostility that sent shivers down her spine. She had her gun, and it was loaded with bullets. But how fast would she be able to shoot eleven men scattered around the room? It was impossible. Nonetheless, she had to try. She had to save herself. They were still watching her. Whatever was keeping them from attacking her was far beyond Emma’s reasoning. Maybe they were aroused by her defenseless looks and just viewed her as a lump of fresh, tender meat. Whatever, she would have to use their underestimation as her strength. It happened in a second. She reached and pulled her gun, but he was faster than her, faster and stronger. She didn’t even have a second to aim, Callus had launched himself towards
Before she could grasp what was happening, Emma heard the crunching of bones and a wet slapping sound similar to that of a skin stretching. Her attacker’s features became more feral, their eyes changing and their faces contorting. Their fingers thickened, becoming dangerous claws, and their ears swooped back. They became a bit taller than they were, their feet growing longer and ankles raised off the ground. Loud grunts and snarls filled the room as their teeth extended into fangs and fur burst across their form. Emma watched fearsomely as they transformed into creatures she had never seen in her life. Eleven horrible creatures were crouching and circling their prey, who were standing undisturbed by their transformation. Their humaneness was replaced by beastly features. Whoever or whatever the man was, he was not frightened by them. But it wasn’t a fair fight, and he didn’t transform like them. Emma shuddered, struggling to keep her composure as she watched them standing in an
Standing in the middle of destruction, his chest rising and falling, Clyde slowly raised his black vacant eyes to meet his mate who had watched him tear apart limbs and heads. She was coiled in a corner, her eyes screaming fear. He took a step closer, disappearing into the darkness for only a brief moment before reappearing only inches away from her. He was standing before her, his soulless black eyes staring into hers. She was unable to suppress her fear and trembled beneath him. He couldn't discern if she was terrified of the massive head he held like a trophy or his demeanor. He didn't have to know that. All he knew was that she was terrified of him. He didn't blame her. He killed eleven men, who she watched transform into unknown creatures far from humans. He didn't kill them with a gun or knife like she intended. No. He had ripped off their heads with his hands, bathing himself with the blood of her enemies. She should, of course, be terrified of him. Power flushed through
Emma's eyelid fluttered, then flew open. She was covered in a cold sweat, her heart pounding as she glanced around the room, paranoid that the horror in her dream may have followed her back. Fortunately, she was alone. A low groan escaped her lips as she tried to turn on the bed. She was hurting, but she hadn't realized it until then. She stared down at herself. She was still fully dressed. She had been sleeping on her bed, in her brightly colored room flooded with light. But something wasn't right. The first indication of that was her bruised body. Her head ached with pain and her neck had weird scratch marks. She didn't remember getting into a fight or changing into the pajamas she had woken up with. The second was her bedsheet, which was covered in blood stains. Looking around her room, her eyes caught her overall, lying close to the bathroom door, and the memories of her night flooded her mind instantly. She hadn't been dreaming. It was all real. The attack, the creatures, th
She muttered something under her breath as she walked into the building, mentally prepared to face her boss and partner. But as she walked in, the chaos and tension in the air told her that she might after all slip and walk away unnoticed. Emma watched as people darted back and forth within the department. Heads were huddled together in a corner as they spoke in low tones discussing an event or occurrence that seemed to hold much importance. Her boss was speaking to someone on the phone, pacing hurriedly in his office and her partner's attention was undivided as he read through files. 'Serial Killer...' her ears picked up from the group in the corner. Emma swallowed heavily, she had no idea what had happened but she knew it was devastating. She prayed silently, that it wasn't as gruesome as everyone's reaction made it seem.Walking to her partner at his desk, she greeted him. "Morning Allen, How are you?..."Looking up at her, he replied immediately. "Where have you been all morning
She remembered how these men had transformed into weird creatures before her eyes. She remembered how they howled and fought like beasts. She had remembered the furs, the extended limbs and the claws. But yet, none of the pictures captured these details. Was she hallucinating? It was impossible to believe otherwise as she stared at the pictures of eleven murdered humans. "I'm leaving..." Emma jumped in surprise as Allen tapped her shoulders. "Are you okay?.." He asked, observing her shocked expression. "Ummmm...Yeah..." She lied. "I was just reading through the files. This is a very bizarre case...""Well, the autopsy results would be ready tomorrow and we'll probably have a lead..." He sighed. "For now, I'm heading home...""Ok. I'm just going to stay back for a while..." Emma said leaning casually against her chair. "I think I have some other files to review..."Allen nodded, then strode hurriedly away. There were several thoughts in her mind as she watched him leave. She shook he
Clyde took a brisk step backwards, letting himself sit comfortably on her bed. "You might want to sit down for this....""No, thank you..." "It's your bedroom, Emma Watson..." He replied with an injured expression. "You should sit...""No. I. Don't. Want. To. Sit. On. The. Bed..." She replied firmly. "Or close to you..." She finally breathed. "Why? You think I'm a monster?..." He was amused. Did she think backing away from him could stop him if he desired to kill her? She would have been dead the minute she walked in if he intended to kill her. She blinked. "You killed those men..." It wasn't a question. He didn't think so. It was an affirmation that she did think of him as a monster. "Did I commit a crime?...""The murders are being investigated...""Are they now?..." The air in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. There was a slight tone of mockery and mischief in his last question. Her words were clipped. "I ask again..." She drew her breath. "What are you doing here?...""I