Antione
He’d never been a morning person, especially on a school day. But the smells of bacon, eggs, and pancakes never failed to get his attention. He got dressed, went to the bathroom, and followed the tantalizing scent to the kitchen. His mother stood in front of the oven, spatula in hand, waiting for the perfect moment to flip them.
“Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”
Antione grinned. “Good morning, Mom. How do you always know when I’m around?”
She hummed playfully. “Because I’m your mother. Everyone knows that mothers have the best senses in the world.”
Theresa, wearing a pale apron that used to be white, turned around and offered Antione a small piece of bacon. He took it with glee, eagerly crunching it between his teeth as he set the table. This made her laugh as she divided the food and began melting a layer of cheese over several pancakes, just the way Antione liked it.
“You’re in a good mood. Did something happen today?” Maybe she finally found a boyfriend. Mom has been alone all this time. She deserves to be happy… especially since Robert doesn’t seem interested in doing that.
Theresa shook her head, still humming as she placed Antione’s plate in front of him and opened the refrigerator. “I just… feel nostalgic, I suppose. Your Uncle Abe said he’d be swinging by to drop off some things. I keep telling him we don’t need it, but you know how he is.”
“Yeah, he’s almost as stubborn as you,” he joked, accepting a glass of orange juice as Theresa raised an eyebrow in a mock frown.
“That didn’t sound like a compliment, young man. And here I made your favorite breakfast just for you.”
He grinned and picked up a pancake, ignoring the heat as he stared at her. “It was a compliment. You’re one of the strongest people I know. But it does feel like Uncle Abe cheats sometimes when you’re arguing… Mom?”
She sat down. “Yes, dear?”
“Um… about what happened during the trip.” Antione winced as Theresa’s smile faded. He hadn’t meant to ruin her mood, but he couldn’t get what Daymond wrote out of his head, so he blurted. “Robert told me… sort of… about him… you know?”
Antione used his free hand to mimic having dog ears on his head, and Theresa slowly nodded. “He was supposed to keep you safe… He promised.”
“To be fair, I don’t think he meant for us to…”
Theresa shook her head, biting into some bacon with more force than necessary, and forced herself to smile at him. “Speaking of, have you heard from him recently? You did have dinner with him, didn’t you?”
“I tried, but he got a text and bailed on me…”
“Oh darling, I’m sorry to hear that.”
She doesn’t sound sorry… “Mom?”
“Hmm?”
Antione licked his lips, unsure if there was an official way to ask, but he didn’t think the situation could get worse, so he just said it. “Are you human?”
Theresa stared at him, expression unreadable, and Antione knew he made a mistake because she only looked like that when she was angry, really angry. She smiled, but it did nothing to soothe him, as she said. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
“I… when I was talking to Robert, he said… I wanted to know why he left… Why, I was told he died in a car crash…”
She closed her eyes and sighed before reaching for Antione’s hand. He gave it to her, needing the familiarity more than the truth at that moment. I grew up without a father, so it’s easy to hate him. But I can’t ever see myself hating Mom.
“Sweetheart…”
Antione jumped, feeling his phone go off, and looked at Theresa guiltily. “That’s them.”
He didn’t need to explain who he meant. Theresa understood, just like she always understood him. “Then you’d better answer them. I’m so glad you’re getting along with your younger siblings, Antione. You deserve to have more friends.”
“It’s just a text, Mom. I can respond later.”
Theresa patted his hand and shook her head. “No, you can respond to them now. You have plenty of time. And you can ask them if they’ve seen your father.”
Antione nodded, not liking the way she didn’t answer, but seeing her good mood return made him pause. It doesn’t matter if she’s not human. She’s my mom, but I still wish she said something. He almost choked as he laughed while reading Camille’s text.
C: Good Morning! Today shall be glorious!
A: You’re in a good mood. Since when are you a morning person?
C: Since always?
A: Why are you asking me? ; )
C: I’m not. It was a typo.
D: Don’t listen to her. Camille can’t make a typo to save her life!
C: Shut up, Day!
D: No! Begone, foul morning person!
A: Can you two not be this energetic in the morning? I’m trying to eat.
D: What are you having?
C: An apple.
A: That’s it? I have a mountain of bacon, eggs, and cheesy pancakes.
C: You’re having cheesy pancakes?
A: Yeah. They’re my favorite.
D: Lucky. Mom made oatmeal. I hate it 😣
B: Good morning. Are we having a breakfast war?
A: Good morning, Bernard. No, we’re not. But have you guys heard from Robert lately?
D: I haven’t.
C: I thought you were calling him Dad? What happened to giving him a chance?
A: It’s complicated. Anyway, my mom is the one who wants to know where he is.
D: She doesn’t have his number?
C: My mom doesn’t. He wrote a letter asking to meet her a few days before the trip.
B: Mine doesn’t, either. But I am supposed to meet him after school today. We’ll be at the park. The one we’ve been practicing at. I’ll let you know if he shows up. I’m having a bagel!
Bernard
Bernard didn’t thrive in school. This was not because he didn’t have friends or had trouble in class, but because he would rather be doing something. His favorite classes always included projects where he could make things. It was his passion. Even if he didn’t fully understand what he was doing, Bernard never failed to learn while his hands were moving.
It hadn’t helped when they were running from Jean-Claude and the other supernatural creatures that called the swamp their home. There was no way goblins, werewolves, and zombies all happened to share the same swamp.
It was too big to be a coincidence, and Bernard hated it when that was the only conclusion he could make. So, he was looking forward to learning from his father today. Robert promised to answer his questions, just like he did with Antione. And he knew which ones his older brother asked, making Bernard’s choices much more straightforward.
Avoid delving into their families’ pasts and focus on werewolf topics, the swamp, or maybe school. Bernard didn’t care what they talked about as long as he had something to show the others once it was over. But first, he had to find him. When he pulled into the park parking lot, he called Robert’s phone and wasn’t surprised to hear it go straight to voicemail.
Robert claimed being a werewolf helped compel him to stay away from technology. But Bernard thought differently. He couldn’t stop thinking about technology to save his life. He waited to see if Robert would call him back as he looked around the parking lot. A fog had rolled in, quickly turning thick enough to muffle sounds.
Sadly, Robert’s car was nowhere in sight. After five minutes, Bernard texted him and entered the park. Although most of his encounters with the place were done at night, he still knew his way around. Maybe Dad’s trying to test me. He doesn’t always drive. He’s probably waiting in the middle of the park.
The grass crunched under his feet as Bernard kept walking. Fall was slowly settling in, forcing him to wear a thicker hoodie as he kept his hands tucked into his pockets. He sniffed, hoping to catch Robert’s scent, but could only wrinkle his nose as a faint whiff of iron reached him. Is that blood? Bernard wasn’t as good at hunting as the rest of his family; he was certain that Camille and Daymond could catch more food than either he or Antione.
But the tang was impossible to ignore. He jogged forward, straining to hear anything. He’d even welcome an ambush if it meant his search would be over, but nothing moved as Bernard went deeper and deeper into the fog. Everything was silent.
The park wasn’t in the middle of the city, but it was in a well-populated area. Bernard had seen people jog in a thunderstorm around here, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt like he was alone—the last person on Earth. Bernard followed the scent to a fountain, a crumbling affair that might have been an angel at some point.
The wings looked more like brittle seashells, and Bernard didn’t know enough about architecture to even guess why someone would design an angel statue without a face. But that wasn’t what made him stop and stare. It was the sight of a golden retriever propped by a large wooden stake going through its butt and coming out of its mouth.
That is one of the most twisted things I’ve ever seen. Who would do something like this? Bernard pulled his phone out again and paused. Who am I going to call? The cameras don’t work in this area. That’s why we chose this place. Will the police even take this seriously? He wouldn’t have been surprised if someone called this Voodoo.
His inner wolf refused to let him leave the poor thing where it was. I should check for a collar. Someone must be looking for the little guy. Bernard stepped closer, passing the fountain to kneel next to the base of the stake. He didn’t know if he should be impressed by how… precise the macabre scene was.
The stake looked like a log with the branches and bark removed, as if to aid the poor dog’s descent as time passed. He loved woodworking, but this sight nearly drove that passion into the center of the Earth. Bernard kept trying to make sense of everything as he spotted a thin piece of string around the dog’s neck.
Is that the collar? No, it would break under the lightest pressure. He felt like he was in a daze as he followed the string’s path to an envelope glued to it right above the dog’s chest. It was an immaculate shade of white, fresh from a store. The front was blank, and Bernard reached for it, almost as if being compelled.
The string snapped, leaving some bits clinging to the dog’s fur, while most of it came with the envelope. Bernard turned it around. The top flap was tucked inside instead of being licked or taped shut. He opened it, wrinkling his nose as an intense fake flowery scent filled the air before dispersing.
He shook the contents, a basic white sheet of paper with blue lines, like you’d see everywhere during back-to-school season, folded over to fit inside with ease. Bernard unfolded the note, grateful for the noise it made as his eyes widened in disbelief.
Greetings.
On September 12 of this year, one of our kindred, Klaus, was killed in your territory. We demand vengeance and shall have it with one Robert Pack’s life. If you wish to save him. Hand over Antione Harker. You have three days to make your decision.
Enjoy the free meat.~
