Highway to Hell

リボーン ; reborn

再生する ; regenerate.

Aros has markings that are coordinated the meaning of their name. Rena has them burned all over her back. The previous Clan Alpha had marked her and she had to mark her whole Clan. Well, whoever was left.

The blood had dripped and my hair was crusty from it. The red liquid had dripped down my face and onto my shirt. The thick liquid had smashed itself into the grey material and I probably wasn't going to be able to wash it out.

After she let me go home, I threw all my clothing to the floor and ran a bath that was scorching hot. The kind of hot that is able to burn your skin if you're in there for too long.

It's just the way that I like it.

My nails scrape on the crusty blood on my legs under the stingy water. The tended flesh is throbbing but oh God, I love it. Plunging my head under the water, I rub my hands over my face and feel flakes of dried blood part from my face.

A loud, ear piercing scream stops me. It rings out loudly around the motel and I clamber from the bathtub. Wrapping a towel around my thin body, I slide across the floor and head outside.

Two police cars and a ambulance are outside the building. From here, I can see them moving a pretty wrecked up corpse. Heading forward, a woman with frizzy grey hair grabs my arm and says. "Oh lovie, did you hear what happened?"

"No. I just heard a scream."

The woman looks started and says. "A young girl, probably about your age, was murdered. She was a Welsh tourist. Her and her boyfriend had been staying in Room 13. He went out to get some chocolate to eat, and when he came back, she's been killed. Apparently the room is nearly spotless apart from some writing on a wall."

Banshee.

Hunters nicknamed them Screamers because of their voice.

Creatures have a habit of killing Screamers as their way of signalling Hunters. It's a warning call. Most Screamers have no idea of what they are and when they're killed, it's when they unlock their powers in the final moments of death. Screamers are drawn to their fate before they're turned. They will spend their whole life trying to get close enough to the being that will be their downfall. In this girls case, I was her downfall. The Demon that killed her was hunting me.

But Screamers come back. She'll wake up in a couple of hours, feeling slightly groggy and confused. Shit shit shit. Smiling at the elderly woman, I rush back into my room and slam the door. I pull back my still soaking hair into a bun that rests on the back of my head, shove on a pair of badly ripped jeans which show off a lot of the scars on my legs and a dark blue long sleeved top that dips low at the front to show off my flat chest. Strapping a gun to the inside of my right leg, a collection of them to the inside of my left thigh, and my lucky silver blade to the inside of my arm. Wiggling into my Doc Martins, I throw everything I own into my bag and storm from the room.

When I get to the front desk, the man working there glares at me. "Ms. Tate, no one is allowed to leave here. It's a crime scene."

Cocking my head, I say loudly. "Try and stop me." It's a bit bitchy but really... I'm 5'6 and I weight 125 pounds.

"Fine." He says. I roll my eyes. My fingers encase themselves around the silver blade that is snugly around my arm.

He goes to grab my shoulder but by the time he does, I've whipped out the blade and are glaring at him.


"Try me sweetheart."

"Huntress!" He hisses loudly and I watch as his eyes turn black.

"Demon!" I curse back.

My eyes flicker with a burning passion. He laughs and then says. "He's looking for you, Huntress Collins. You're going to die and it's going to be beautiful. The end of a bloodline is always classy." My chest tightens and my breath holds in my throat. I plunge my silver blade into his chest and watch as his eyes splinter into millions of pieces. His body crumbled, the flesh peeling off and a dark red light explodes from the inside of him.

Grabbing my suitcase, I head from the lobby and hail for a taxi. A chubby man with faded ginger hair asks me where I want to go.

"Morgue please. And could you try and get us there kind quickly?"

"How old are you kiddo? Fourteen? Why do you need to go to a morgue?"

"Does I'm-paying-for-this-so-do-it sum it up?"

He sighs but drives me anyways. I'm grateful for that. When we reach it, I throw him a fifty bill and rush out. Walking around the back, I drop my bags and pick the lock. My dad taught me how to pick locks before he died.

When I open the door, I end up getting lost. It's creepy in here. I'm going to die in here, aren't I? As soon as that thought rushes through my head, someone grabs my shoulder. I turn around and find myself looking at a girl with sleek blonde hair, eyes that at dark brown in color and tilt upwards.

I found my Screamer.

Notes