Beau - Chapter Eleven
#1 of Beau
© All characters and storylines involving said characters belong to me: Eben Black.
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Night clubs. Bars. Nightlife in general was a wonderful place for someone like me. It was almost three in the morning and the bars were finally kicking the drunks out. I'd parked up some distance away. Beau still there in my head. I knew the blue tiger wouldn't watch what I had planned. He was far too squeamish. I walked down the road, drunken crowds spilled around me, laughter and drunken pranks surrounded their entire world as I stalked between them all, prowling, hunting. I walked, the hood raised so that none of the authorities could spot me without stopping me. If that happened then I'd deal, but for now I was as well hidden as a psychopathic murderer could be. More drunken youths spilled left, right and centre.
There was a bar called Illusion, and as I walked closer a young female spilled out, plastered against the side of a car, whose alarm began to ring out. The bouncer watched her, his eyes narrowed as she staggered to her feet, those heels looked dangerous to stand on sober, let alone pissed. She gave the bouncer a two-fingered salute and started hobbling down the street. She'd turned down a side-road and faded into the shadows. This was too perfect. I ran, ran to keep up, and as I turned the bend I saw her, slender, squeezed into a cocktail dress, hair cascading behind her like an auburn dream. I took the first few steps and must have made some noise because she turned, looking as sick as any fur could look. She looked like she couldn't focus. Had we walked down far enough? No. People would hear her.
"W-Whose there?" she stammered. Her legs looked uneasy. I needed her to move deeper into the shadows.
I never replied. Never answered her. Just kept on walking toward her.
"Who are y-you!" she demanded this time.
I'd had enough. I did what I knew I'd be able to do in this situation. I went low and rushed her, hands at my sides as a minute scream escaped her mouth. I grabbed the lioness around the middle, and shouldered her before I burst into a run deeper into the shadows. When I was certain I was far enough, I stopped dead and let go. She fell backwards and sprawled across the floor in front of me. I grinned as I padded forward. I watched her struggle to regain a little breath as she gaped up at me. I must have seriously frightened her, because tears ran down her face now. I grinned and took a step forward, I kicked her, cracked my heel against her forehead. She spilled backward as blood swelled and spattered down her front. I stood over her, as she looked up dazed and confused. I went to my knees, stradling her and thrust my hands down, grasping her throat. I pushed and pushed. She strained against me, as her nails scratched and scraped along my forearms. I relished in the sudden control I had. I squeezed and pushed at the same time as she gasped for non-existent air and looked at me wide-eyed, almost pleading. I snarled and lifted a little before I slammed her back down. There was a dry crack and the female under me went limp, her hands fell from my arms as blood swelled from the broken neck. I sat back, releasing her and sighed.
That felt good. This was like some addiction. I shuddered and started to stand up, relishing in the power that ebbed around me.
I turned to leave and stopped dead. I was staring into the barrel of a handgun. The police officer was shaking. He'd seen me kill her and come to help, but now he'd bottomed it? He was a rookie. I grinned and in a blur slapped at the handgun. It span from his hand and spilled across the floor. He yipped while he staggered back from me. He went for his knight-stick, but the weapon was never raised. I had a hand on his wrist, while my other hand wrapped at his forehead. The hyena gazed at me, with wide frightened eyes as I turned and sent him careening across the floor. I turned and found the handgun I'd discarded. I checked the magazine, full mag. I chambered a round and let the gun hang beside me as I turned and rounded on the panicked rookie. He staggered to his feet and tried to run.
I loved it when they ran. I turned, raised the weapon one-handed, and fired once. The bullet soared for a second and with a dull thunk slammed the rookie into the back of the head. Blood spattered the ground as he collapsed.
A broad grin graced my maw as I lowered the weapon, clicked on the safety and held the gun beside me. When the barrel cooled I'd slip it in the waistband of my jeans, but for now this would do. I walked to the cop and looked. His blood pooled around him. Half his head obliterated. I smirked at the sight and turned. I walked deeper into the shadows of the side-road. No one had seen, but I was still a wanted criminal, a wanted psychopath. I needed to get out of here as soon as possible. I remembered where Beau lived. I'd go there. No problem. Then I'd get some rest and the blue feline could have some time to take care of those family issues he had.
I soon walked alongside the Jeep and buried my other hand into the jeans and found the car keys. I unlocked the car and opened the door. I climbed inside and revved the engine. I sat back in the quiet hush of the Jeep and let a quiet exhaustion flood me. I closed my eyes and could feel the darkness envelop me.
"Have fun, Beau," I murmured as I faded into the shadows.
I woke up in the front seat of my Jeep. Parked on the far side of town, I took several deep breaths. The sweatshirt I was in was over-sized and blood spattered. It had been Damian's. Oh God, what had that monster done! I took a deep breath and leaned my forehead on the steering wheel. I revved the engine and decided I needed a shower. I need to go home and get clean. I put the Jeep into drive and pulled off. As I neared the end of the road I heard a distant vibration low in my jeans pocket. I slipped out the mobile and checked. The messaged read: Hi Beau x you disappeared again. I got your note. You know where I am if you need me. I thought about it. Did I need Damian right now? Yeah. Yeah, I did. I texted back, feeding him my address and saying: Meet me there in half an hour x.
I took a deep breath and slipped the hooded sweatshirt off. I needed to be cleaned, soon. I pulled off and drove. I drove and drove. Damian was coming over, and Zackariah was asleep now. Things were still new to me, but as that sun rose, the words Zackariah had spoke rang through my mind. He'd offered to kill dad. He'd offered to be the one who murdered Nathaniel. The fur had killed my mother, he had killed her and fled. He deserved death. But was I comfortable with being the one who sentenced him to that pitiful death?
Lian would've done it. I hadn't seen Nathan's reaction yet to know what he was capable of. But me? No. No, I didn't like being the one who brought the axe down on Nathaniel's throat.
I made it home and hurried inside. I jumped in the shower as soon as possible and washed, scrubbing away the blood spots that had appeared all over me. I huddled in the shower cubicle, back pressed to the tiled wall. Hot water spilled down over me, washed the blood away, washed the murders away. Regardless of who owned the body at the time, it was still this body committing those murders. The handgun that Zackariah had acquired was bundled in those bloodied bottoms together with the leather jacket and blood spattered knife. I'd acquired quite the arsenal since Zackariah came into my life. He was right, we'd never get caught. Zackariah killed, changed and I walked scott free, but was that alright with me? I didn't know. I huddled knees against my chest as I sobbed, the tears flowed from me again. I was so sick of crying.
"Beau? Beau, you down here?" a familiar voice called down.
"D-Damian?" I hiccoughed.
I heard footsteps and a moment later the bathroom door opened and Damian padded inside. He walked to the shower cubicle and crouched in front of it. "You alright?" he asked with a pleasant smile.
I nodded, and wiped the tears away. I didn't want to cry anymore. I needed to sort so much out.
"Hand me a towel?" I asked. He did what I wanted, and I turned the water off and stepped out, towel wrapped around my waist.
"The front door was unlocked, and no one answered. I was worried something had happened, so I just came in. I'm sorry," he said.
"It's fine, seriously."
"You all alone here?" he asked.
"Yeah. I have no idea where everyone else is. I need to speak with Nathaniel though," I added.
"Your dad?" Damian replied. I nodded. "How come you want to speak with him?"
"I'm not going to do anything. I just want to understand why he did what he did," I explained.
"You want me to be there?" Damian asked.
I nodded and added, "I'll speak with Lian and Nathan, and find out if they know where he is."
Damian nodded and watched me pad passed him into the bedroom without another word.
I'd finally decided what I was going to do. Zackariah was down and out for the day I hoped. I'd speak with my brothers, then speak with my father and make him turn himself in. He needed to be punished. We both did. But so long as he walked free, I wouldn't allow myself to be imprisoned. Zackariah may not like the idea of being imprisoned, but he was a monster. I couldn't let him walk free. He was a madman. He needed to be stopped. What about Damian? I'd have to let him go sooner or later, but having him around kept me cool and level-headed. Call it love, call it comfort. Either way I needed him with me until I handed myself in. Would the police believe me? I hoped so. Zackariah was a beast that needed to be caged.