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Kerry Lewis, being of strong physique and agile mind, was the first to make her way to the tower of respect. It had been too long and too quiet since she’d told the boys to go ring the bell, she knew something must be wrong by now. The air nipped at her cheeks, the cold wind that flounced around her causing goosebumps to rise up on her arms. At least, she told herself it was the wind; a small part of her deep down was confronted with the fact that she might indeed be afraid. She’d known when signing up for this job that what entailed would involve sacrifice, a risk of danger with every step she took. She’d never before been afraid, not even when dealing with the incident, all those years ago. That feat, though harder than this one had been thus far, seemed a lifetime ago and she’d grown since then. Smarter, stronger. So upon arriving at the scene in front of her, she hadn’t expected to feel so shaken.
Her breath hitched in her throat as she cautiously approached the scene before her; Monty, in full wolf form, snarled and whimpered as he dug into the ground beneath him, slamming his muzzle into the floor. Next to him lay a blood soaked Edgar, unconscious, his chest static. She could hardly see the pale skin of his face under all the burgundy that decorated it. Fuck. Edgar Allan was verging on dead and his best friend was losing control of himself, and fast.
Kerry had never wanted children of her own. In fact, she felt no child would truly want her, so why waste her time in trying to raise one- besides, she could never do that to a child. Bringing them into a world so cruel, so unjust. It would be a failure on her part, vowing to protect the people yet bringing them into a world where they’d do nothing but suffer. Kerry’s theory about children being opposed to her had, so far, been proven right. Each year, fathers of cursed boys would complain to Ranjit Singh about their sons being taught control by a woman (horrendous, right?) , and each year he’d assure them that she did her job, and did it better than anyone he knew. Yet by the time term rolled around, these poor boys who already held no conception of the world around them, already had it drilled into them that she was the enemy. Montague Finch, with no father remaining to do so, had taken a liking to her. He seemed to feel understood by her, so it seemed, and she hated admitting a part of her likewise felt seen by him. She was once a young child, her body changing in ways she didn’t understand, hurting her for no reason but to cause pain. Her stomach churned and she grimaced, resting her hand gently atop it. She took a deep breath, the boy- or, wolf?, yet to have noticed her.
She took a firm step forwards and his head snapped up to face her. His nose twitched, and he turned his head slowly, baring his teeth with a low snarl. “Mr Finch,” she started, and he placed one paw in front of the other, slowly stalking towards her. He’d lost it, she knew he’d lost it- why was she still trying to reason with him, why wasn’t she trying to detain him?
“Monty.” She reached a steady hand outwards and carefully stepped back; he followed. She pushed any fear aside and focused all her attention on him. She was trying to guide him away from the bleeding Edgar, who lay harrowingly still on the ground. She was proud of him, Monty that was, for controlling himself as much as he had done. He just had to go a little longer, hold on to himself until his friends rang that bell. “You’re doing good, lad, just…just step away from him, follow me” she guided him, taking another step back. Behind him, she could make out the blurred figure of the monster, moving its way up the tower. Fucking hell. She couldn’t control them all at once, she knew that. She had to control her focus on the issue in front of her, or quite possibly two children could die in her care. She trusted the other two to make it to the bell in time, knowing the monster was interested in those with extreme powers. And if she was honest, Kevin Creeley had little to worry about on that part. She was more worried the monster would divert its attention to Monty, now in wolf form, aiming to suck out as much power from him as it could. She saw the figure still, and Monty’s ear flickered in response, tilting backwards towards the monster.
Fuck.
Monty began to turn back, his nose sniffing the air around Edgar, teeth bared as he sauntered towards the other boy, nose guided by the scent of his blood. Oh fuck, no, the damned creature had picked on Monty- of course it had, his lack of control made him easier to manipulate. How hadn’t she seen that coming- how hadn’t she, of all people, seen the obvious?
“Monty, stop it,” she hissed, reaching to her side to find her crossbow- oh. Right. The goddamn thing had engulfed it. Her hand moved to her other side, fingers clutching at the edges of the knife she kept at her side. He didn’t listen. Of course he didn’t, he couldn't. Whatever that creature was, it controlled him, and he was barely in control as it was. She darted forward, placing herself between Monty and half-corpse on the floor, looking into his eyes. They were dull, a sharp growl lying under his lips. His eyes moved between her and the corpse behind her, nose twitching sporadically. A sense of confusion lay on his face, and she couldn’t tell whether it was him, or the monster. His eyes landed on her, stalking her as he gazed over her, trying to find something that he couldn’t quite see. A sharp stab in her stomach sparked the realization in her head. Oh. He was confused. The scent of blood was coming from the both of them, yet he couldn’t make out how. ‘What a wonderful day to be a woman,’ she scornfully thought to herself. She moved her eyes to meet his once more, yet they were on the boy behind her.
Kerry had always known there’d be a day she’d have to sacrifice, a day where she’d bite off more than she could chew and have to face the consequences. She’d never thought once that that day would be a willing sacrifice, never once did it cross her mind she’d want to save a child more than herself. Because while she’d agreed to protect these children as much as she could, she wasn’t going to deny the fact that she was selfish. Was it selfish, though, to not want to die? Though when facing Montague Finch, his snarling muzzle and deep, vicious eyes, she saw nothing but a boy. A boy who was scared- a boy who, if he attacked a fellow classmate, a friend, may never be given a chance to control himself again. Her knife wavered in her hand as she saw him make up his mind; she was not enough. He needed more.
Almost without thinking, she moved the knife to her own thigh, creating a wound large enough he whipped his head around. It was fresher than Edgar’s. She looked up at Monty once more, stretching her hand out; a hand once steady, that now shook ever so slightly in front of her. “Monty, you don’t want this,” she tried to reason (though reason by now was out the window, her mind was set on one thing alone- helping Monty) with him, though he seemingly paid no attention to her words, his eyes set on her thigh. “You are not your curse, Monty- remember what we went over. Control,” she tried again, limping backwards to lead him away from the young Edgar, who above him flew a small one legged bird. Monty’s eyes flickered, a quick hint of what looked like fear flashing across them- but that was gone as soon as it came. Her grip on the knife loosened- she couldn’t hurt him. If he came for her, she couldn’t do it. He noticed this, and in an almost puppeteered manner, lunged himself towards her.
As he pounced, the sharp ring of a bell echoed around them, and she felt herself flung backwards on the ground, a sudden stab at her thigh, and a vibration of what sounded like a whine moved beneath her flesh. As soon as she felt it, it was gone; above her was Ranjit, Elliot, and Matthew, and besides her, engulfed in shadows, Montagu Finch disappeared. She whimpered in pain, almost embarrassed of herself as she felt Elliot move to hold her close to him. She let him, shutting her eyes tight as he felt Ranjit’s warm yet shaking hands on her thigh. Their words were muffled around her, and the stabbing pain in her thigh was gone. She could hardly look at them as she heard Ranjit finally ask her what happened. She felt the presence of the young boys behind her, and turned her head around to see Edgar, the bird that had appeared next to him now gone.
“Later,” she mumbled, shrugging Elliot off of her as she stood to shake herself off. She knew, of course, there would never be a later. She wouldn’t tell him that she lost control, she wouldn’t confess to him that for the first time in a while, she felt honestly and truly scared. She felt her hands shaking, and she clutched them together to steady them. Ignoring the worried glances between her colleagues, she moved forwards towards the young boys, to gauge the situation at hand. She was the Steward of Control, and if she couldn’t demonstrate that now, when could she? She furrowed her brow, moving onwards with a firm step, ignoring all fears and nerves that overcame her. Looking at the sight in front of her, at the young boys who’d suffered the wrath of the creature, she reminded herself of her position.
There were bigger issues at hand than her weakness.
Her lack of control.