`This Straight Jacket Feeling

[VIKTOR LORENZ ALSVIK]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #78816a solid; border-bottom: 10px #78816a solid;] Etched with marks, but I can deal Try this on, straight jacket feeling Words: 2,516 || Tagged: GEE || Status: Complete My entire life, everything I have ever known has turned upside down. I felt like I was drowning and I didn’t know which way was up, no hint of sun light to turn me in the right direction. I didn’t know what to do any more. Everything used to be so simple. I only had one thing to do. Kill werewolves. But what do you do when that is no longer an option? If you were one of the creatures you hunted? I’ve actually considered continuing hunting just because that was the one thing left in my life that I still had, but I didn’t see the point anymore. The Hunter was the hunted at the end of the day, so I’d have to be looking over my shoulder even more for werewolves, the Hunters, and the government trying to stop me. The government doesn’t exactly like Hunters turned werewolves, we’re too powerful to control it seems. Pain. Burning. Movement. Growling. My whole body was a constant throbbing pain. It felt like my body was rejecting itself, in essence it was because of every fiber of myself was rejecting the change. My joints burned with the new acquired need to shift but only burned more with my inability to do so. For now at least. The movement inside of me was the weirdest sensation I have ever felt. Most of the time what I felt was painful, filled with resentment and rejection. But other times my chest hurt so badly with desire of acceptance, the overwhelming need for companionship, and flat out longing to come together. This bothered me more than anything. With my profession I was relatively prepared and knew what to expect for the most part. I wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of emotions that weren’t mine. At least not consciously mine. Then there was that infernal growling! Anytime I thought or did that he didn’t like he would growl You could say I’ve had my fulfillment of growling for a life time, the stupid dog won’t shut up. Two weeks. I’ve been infected for two weeks now. This dog and I have come no closer to and sort of compromise now than when I first felt his consciousness stirring to life within me. All he’s managed to do was keep me from killing myself. I mean this quite literally. It took some craft to be able to hold my gun without touching it but I had managed it. I was all set to pull the trigger, the cool metal which was once a calming reassurance bit against my skin when it touched the exposed flesh of my temple. Somehow the dog was able to stop me from splattering my brains across the floor. I was miserable. I was becoming a wolf and even my weapons have turned against me. The tools I have used to take lives as well as save my own life… I can no longer touch any of them without covering my hands with something. I was so lost without my gun. Sure I could go out and buy a new gun that wasn’t made of silver but it wasn’t the same, it wasn’t my gun. I was now allergic to silver. Because of which even my weapons were out of my reach. To add insult to injury, to rub salt in my wounds, I can no longer wear the silver cross necklace that Kerrac had given me. That necklace was all that I had left of my Master Hunter since we had lost connection some years ago. He was like a father – no, he was my father even if it wasn’t by blood. He raised me, fed me, clothed me, trained me, and molded me into the man I am today. Now all had left of him is sitting on a bed stand in my bedroom. To serve as a painful reminder of all I have loser so far was a thin angry red line around my neck and a perfect imprint of the cross on the left side of my chest, just below my collar bone. The flesh was still raw and angry, still very tender from being in prolonged contact with silver. I’ve tried not to think about it but I can’t help but to wonder if it will scar, it seemed to be refuse to heal so far and I’ve had this for two weeks now. If it did, it would just add to the collection that I already have, just this one would be painful to look at because of what it symbolizes of what I lost. I have never been proud of what I was capable of doing as a Hunter. I was never proud of the fact I had the highest werewolf kill counts over any other Hunter, dead or alive. I loathed myself that I was able to torture someone for days, weeks, possibly a year or more without killing them. It was sick. It did sicken me. But until this, being infected, and feeling how my body ached with the need to shift and the border line pain of it along with how the silver felt burning into my flesh… I never really understood what they went through with feeling this thing inside of them or how badly silver hurt. This knowledge only made me feel worse. All the lives I took… I could see them every time I closed my eyes. I used to be able to forget them as soon as the job was done, but it seems like every single face wasn’t forgotten; only suppressed into the deep recesses of my mind. I’ve been finding myself waking up in a panic time and again, countless times a night, because of seeing the face of those I killed… the screams of those I tortured… All my crimes were catching up with me, with a vengeance too. Karma is a bitch and I was paying for everything I’ve done tenfold and then some. I don’t believe anyone who had heard my regrets would believe them given my past but it was true. I refretted everything, guilty even. But I’ve been branded with a name so it would seem. Death. Death is what they called me as soon as my back was turned. I found it rather amusing, darly amusing that didn’t help with the dark cloud that hung over me. In sick amusement that I could kill anyone that I put my mind to but death eluded me, even when I begged to any god that was out there to just take my life, I went out and got a tattoos that said “Jag är död” meaning “I am Death” in Swedish. Getting a tattoo, especially the one I did, probably was not my smartest move but right now I just found it amusing since after all Death himself couldn’t not die. Other than my brief time out a couple of days ago to get my tattoo I have been held up in my house. I have blocked everything out and everyone, regrettably the man I’ve been kind of seeing. I’d never admit it to anyone but I was terrified to see Barrett. I was pretty sure that I was just being irrational and stupid but I just couldn’t face the man. I was scared that he’d reject me because I was now becoming a werewolf. This thought alone pretty much summed up how unstable I was right now. A werewolf rejecting an upcoming werewolf, and one you’ve previously had romantic encounters with before being infected and killed werewolves for a living before this mess, just because he was turning into the same exact thing Barrett was. It all was illogical. I knew it was, but there just something about it that just sounded right… er… wrong? What if Barrett liked humans, well mostly human since we Hunters weren’t exactly human in the first place, and was interested in me for that fact in the first place. It broke my heart to, but I think unless Barrett came to my house and broke down my door I’d just do us both a favor and avoid him. There was no need to further drag him into this mess any more than I have just by being seen with him before. I seriously wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I got Barrett hurt just because of that mother fucking, blood filled syringe wielding, psychotic dog decided to hurt me any further than he already had. I didn’t know that dog’s name or where the hell he came from or how the hell he found out about me. All I did know was he has a serious grudge against me and is my professional stalker. I guess I should be flattered that he is basically my one man fan club; I should look around on the internet later tonight to see if he started a fan club, maybe I could find my used tissues on eBay or something. I don’t know what the guy’s issue is… Well… That wasn’t exactly the truth. I knew why he had an issue with me. I guess he wasn’t too fond of me going around and shooting up his little dog buddies. I guess I can’t blame him. What I really want to know is why he’d want to infect me. Clearly he wants me to suffer; I can’t imagine anything worse happening to myself other than being infected, I’m living a nightmare day after day because of that dog. He also didn’t find me being involved with Barrett being a good thing either. I guess he didn’t figure out that I don’t have too much of an issue with werewolves. Of course I get jumpy around most werewolves but that is just because I’ve had more werewolves trying to use my leg as a chew toy than being a nice little lap dog. So you can’t really blame me for not being overly friendly with the entire species, but I wasn’t a total hater, dating Barrett proved that. Apparently thinking wasn’t among the list of the things the dog could do. He just ran around infecting Hunters that minded their own business. He certainly didn’t take the time to think about how I am… or was… under contract by the government to hunt. I had no choice in the matter, killing a few werewolves was sunshine and daises compared to what they’d do to me for refusing to fight. My life was pretty much a shit hole right now. On top of the rest of the mess I have going on I don’t know how I’m going to deal with my handlers. I don’t know how to report back to the government that I’ve been infected, that I’m no longer fit for duty. To do that was basically handing my balls over to them, both of them now not just the one they have in a constant vice grip. They wouldn’t kill me. That would be far too nice and easy for allowing myself to become infected. Yes, to them I allowed it. Because I totally went skipping up to the dog and just begged him to infect me. That was my fantasy to spend that Monday evening. Bull shit, yes? Yes. I wasn’t used to being so caged up. My normal routine was broken, I was in too much pain to go out and run like I usually sleep all day, get up early in the evening just a few hours before the sun set to go for my five mile run, then I’d go hunting after changing. Now… I’ve basically just sat on my couch and didn’t move unless it was to go use the bathroom, get food, or to go puke up said food after my stomach rejected it from the amount of pain I had been in. Today, today the pain had lessened. I was going to make use of it. I had to get out no matter how much I really didn’t want to. I would have been much happier, or miserable depending on how you looked at it, to stay back at my house right on my couch wearing my comfortable gym shorts. The dog within me now wouldn’t have anything of that sulking, moping, and boarder line manic depressive state that I had been in. He demanded that we went out as well. I complied because I couldn’t stand seeing the same four walls any longer. With the dog’s and my desire to get out of the house I found myself lounging in the warm sunlight at the park. It was so odd to be out in the day light, with so many years of being a Hunter the times I was awake and asleep were backwards. It was… nice though. I didn’t care for the circumstances of which allowed me to be out here during the day but I guess there wasn’t anything I could do about it as long as the dog was babysitting me and not allowing me to do anything about my problem. I laid myself out in the grass, choosing a spot where I could see the park’s entrance and see where people would be coming and going. I’ve learned my lesson about getting lax with my awareness of my surroundings. I wore a soft blue button up shirt, the sleeves were rolled up to just below my elbow and the first couple buttons were undone. With how my shirt was currently resting slightly open, if you looked just right you could see the cross burn mark, and the red line from the chain was visible just a couple inches below my throat. For pants I wore a pair of my favorite slim fitting jeans, a black leather belt threaded through the belt loops. Other things I wore were a pair of hot pink Converse Chuck Taylors and a pair of black Ray Ban Wayfare sunglasses. A book was in my hand, I had been reading it but the warmth of the sun had distracted me from it. I was kind of lounging back, leaning on my left elbow. The book was in my left hand, my thumb holding my page since the pages closed on themselves. My right arm draped comfortably across my right hip. My legs were crossed comfortably. Eyes were closed and my face was upturned toward the sun, reveling in the warmth that I have so long been deprived of in excessive amounts. Despite the horrid turns of events I was content for the moment. My chest felt like it was swelling with contentment; it felt like it was almost to the point of bursting with the emotion. I wasn’t the only one who was happy to get out of my house and stop the depressed slump I had been in even if it was just for a few hours. The dog was happy to be out in the park, laying in the sun with no one to bother us except the few and far between passer bys. CLOTHES: Blue dress shirt, jeans, hot pink converse, sunglasses [/style] That face is tearing holes in me again Yesterday was hell...

[HONEY LEE PHILIPS]

The day was a beautiful one, warm and bright, and it called to both Honey and the fuzzball that had taken residence inside of her. It hadn't taken long for Honey to accept the fuzzball inside of her, as much as she hated it in the beginning resented it and even tried to off herself a couple of times by stumbling onto a few hunter's path her fuzzy friend didn't really seem to ever seem to agree with her and though she had a few scars littered here and there, that was about all Honey had to show, a bruise here and there that would eventually fade into nothing. The full moons were still pretty hard for the woman but she was learning to deal with them better and better as the months passed, the past moon hadn't even hurt her, she just wished she could learn to reign in her little friend better but the few pack members that spoke to her had told her that the more she allowed herself to bond with it the easier it would be.

As hard as leaving had been, Honey couldn't help but think that being here was better for her. Back home all she had was Jackson and the reminders of what exactly she would never have with him. All their friend were married, most to one another some to college sweethearts but it was all just a sickeningly sweet fairy tale ending for her friends, they were married, they had children, nine to five's and all they ever wanted was to set her up to try and throw her off Jackson's trail, something that only up until recently had been impossible for her.

Leaving the Vokul home in a pair of denim cut offs and a simple wife beater with a flannel shirt thrown over, left open to let the cool breeze through, the southern woman took a stroll through the woods in order to get into town quicker in search of some ice cream and maybe some social interaction.

Since Honey had gotten into town she hadn't exactly been a social butterfly, in fact she'd only recently even started speaking to her pack members and going out to speak to them instead of going out of her way to make sure she was in a room where none of them were. She'd gotten a job in town as a mechanic doing her best to just be normal refusing to accept what she was but only making her furry mad by refusing it, even then though the girl kept to her own and had even been on the brink of unemployment when one of her coworkers had made the mistake of trying to get grabby with her and it had taken more control then Honey cared to admit not to drop a car over him. Needless to say she'd earned her respect, it also helped some that she'd managed to show them all a little something new after all what did having a gear head daddy work for if not at least showing her how to show up the boys?

Things were finally settling down for Honey, so long as she didn't pick up any of the gossip magazines or call home the girl could feel at ease, it did hurt her though and even her wolf sympathized with her when that deep longing for her old life yearned it's head around. To have Jackson a few yards away, a phone call away, to know that even if he loved someone else he was still there. To have her parents around despite the fact that they almost never saw eye to eye but to still have the little family she could to have left that behind sometimes it made Honey wonder just what the hell she was doing here but then her furry came lurking around and Honey remembered that no mater how bad it hurt, this would be for the best because as much as they loved her, Honey knew they would never be able to accept her.

That was fine though this was her new life, it was settling down and it was getting brighter day by day and with a giant waffle cone chalked full of strawberry ice cream was she really going to be looking at her glass half empty right now? Not likely, the sun was beating down her back and heating up her bones after Honey had shrugged off her flannel shirt tying it around her hips and generally feeling about as content as she looked.

Before the woman really noticed anything she had made her way into the park, not giving two damns if the scar inside her thigh that her shorts did no job of concealing flashed here and there. Her wolf was sated not minding the dogs barking or the children one bit, the simple fact of being out for something other then the smell of motor oil or moonlight, her fuzzy seemed to be enjoy the sun as much as her. The woman had long passed the general area of the park where the families flooded and the people all stayed, she had kept up her walk though, quite content to keep going as long as she had her over sized ice cream cone to keep her company and the sounds of the birds singing near by.

It was almost enough to take the girl home, to hot summer days and trips to Myrtle Beach without her parents. To days for only her and Jackson... To when the sun had set and he'd rented out a beach house for the weekend...

It seemed her fuzzy had been just as enthralled by that particular memory because her normally keen senses utterly failed her as she tripped over a set of legs, her tongue sticking out midair as her ice cream cone was flung out of her hands and onto the grass. Honey on the other hand after fumbling like a new born foal managed to gain her footing before actually falling all over the man sprawled out on the grass for her and instantly the girl's face turned red.

Leave it to Honey Lee to end up running over the only other person in the area when there was nothing but open space as far as she could see. Her wolf though didn't seem to be as apologetic as the girl had been, it set Honey on edge a bit as her senses finally kicked in and the girl picked up something distinct from the man on the grass. It wasn't threatening as far as she could tell but it wasn't her pack and it wasn't exactly human so for the time being Honey would simply go on whatever it was he did first.

"I am so sorry, I'd say I didn't see you there but would ya believe me?" The girl tried to joke sending the man a smile before looking down at her half eaten ice cream cone and she couldn't help but to let out a sigh. "I was really enjoyin' that thing." She mumbled to herself though the wolf lurking somewhere inside of her didn't let her focus on her frozen treat it just wanted to know if this man was a friend or an enemy because she couldn't get any sort of signal from him so she figured starting from step one might have been the best way to go. Sticking out her hand in a friendly manner the girl grinned at the handsome man on the grass and introduced herself.

"My name's Honey Lee and I promise, any other day around someone less good lookin' I'm not normally this clumsy."