The house was empty. The lights were off and Callas couldn't hear anything beside the pages of her worn book flipping over. Silas was still in the hospital and Anya wouldn't dare leave his side, no one questioned it—and no one dared to move a woman with her scorn. She was alone in the house. Reed was still M.I.A., although she knew she was going to see him tomorrow. Callas knew that he needed time, but a text would have been nice every once in a while, so she knew he was still alive. Her only communication to him was through the boys—and even they seemed to lack the ability to check or answer their phones. It sucked. But something moved downstairs. The hairs on her arms stood up as she closed her book, slotting a bookmark between the pages as she placed it on her side table. She picked up her phone, sliding it into the jumper pocket she had dressed into with her pyjama's, just in case. Her heart raced as she slowly slid off the bed, immediately regretting every textbook 'horror movie victim move' she was about to make once she opened the bedroom door. She sucked in a deep breath as her hand touched the cold handle, slowly turning it before it opened.

     She blew out a sigh before she stepped out. There were no following sounds from the first one. Hesitantly, Callas crept down the stairs, her hand was holding onto the railing as her feet planted themselves onto the next step, then the next, and then the next. When she reached the bottom, she tried to listen out for any other sound or any movement, aside from her own. The kitchen light was on. Her eyebrows furrowed as she picked up Reed's old metal baseball bat laying on the floor near the draws against the wall. Callas gripped onto the metal bat tightly as she lifted it up, making her way into the kitchen. When she noticed nothing seemed out of the ordinary, she let out a sigh, shaking her head with a light laugh, she was just being paranoid. She placed the metal bat down on the dining table and walked over to the sink to get herself a glass of water, to try and help her nerves. Callas looked out of the window and dropped the cup into the sink, the glass shattered.

     There was a reflection of the Wight standing behind her in the window. A smile grew on its face, it lifted its hand and waved to her. Callas spun around and gripped the edge of the counter. The Wight was leaning against the wall, his arms now crossed over his chest. Callas's hand slowly reached for her phone in her pocket. The Wight didn't seem to notice her sleight of hand and she tried to open the messages, occasionally glancing down to see what she was typing. The Wight cleared his throat, she looked up with a sharp intake of air, pressing send accidentally to whoever's contact she clicked on, a half-coherent sentence was sent. The Wight forced a smile and sighed, pushing himself off the wall, pointing to the metal bat on the table. He chuckled to himself and Callas could feel her blood pumping faster and faster.

     "Was that necessary?" He asked, glancing back to Callas, raising his eyebrow.

     "Maybe."

     He watched Callas shrug, not knowing how to answer him. He cleared his throat. "Well, it's not going to do you much good sitting way over here, is it?" He lifted it up and threw it out the doorway and into the living room, Callas heard the heavy thud as it landed.

     "Who are you?" Callas's voice shook with nerves.

     The Wight tutted at her. "That's the wrong question, Callas."

     "What?"

     "You shouldn't be this clueless. For crying out loud, I put the most obvious hints on your computer screen. Hell, I even told you. Is this still not getting through your head?"

     "Get out."

     "We both know that isn't going to happen. Not until you do what you're meant to."

     "I don't know who you are!"

     "Bullshit," he hissed. "You know damn well who I am. It shouldn't be this difficult for you to remember."

     "I said get out."

     "Even your mother wasn't this fucking clueless."

     Callas froze. "My—"

     The Wight seemed to become frustrated, he sighed and changed the subject, hoping to spark something else, "Haven't you noticed something missing from this picture?" He looked towards her seat at the table. "I'll give you a clue; he's named after a god."

     "Zeus?"

     "Well done, princess." He clapped his hands together with an eye roll.

     "He's in Silas's room—"

     He shook his head, a small laugh left the back of his throat, something eerily similar to the one Rumpelstiltskin from 'Once Upon A Time' had. "You sure?"

     "Where is he?"

     The Wight shrugged. "Taken care of."

     "You killed my dog?" Her voice rose.

     "No." He scoffed. "He's locked up in the shed."

     The Wight stepped closer to the island counter, Callas moved away. "Who are you?" She asked again.

     "Come on, Callas, you know who I am." He tilted his head, looking at her with a wide smile. "Christ, you had your own brother look into me,"—he gave her a pointed look before chuckling to himself—"which I find quite rude, considering our history we share together." He pointed to her.

     Callas looked to the ground with her eyebrows furrowed. "Will," she whispered to herself, looking back up to him with wide eyes.

     "Ding, ding, ding. There we go, princess, you hit the jackpot. Well, now we are getting the ball rolling." He waved his hands together, almost like he was rolling a ball up in his hands just before he pointed finger guns at her. "See? Isn't this so much more fun?" His arms drew up before falling to his sides. "Being on a first name basis? No more 'Wight' for me."

     "Stay the hell away from me," she threatened, although they both knew it was empty.

     "Callas." Will tutted, shaking his head again. "C'mon now, don't be like that." Will stepped closer to the counter, watching as Callas took out one of the knives from the holder, pointing it out at Will. "Callas," he warned. "Callas, put that down. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself now, would we?"

    How did he know her mother? She barely even knew her own mother. She died fourteen years ago. Henry even said that his family hadn't been in La Push for that long. So, that begged the question: Who the hell was Will? Or better yet: What the hell was Will? It seemed highly unlikely that Will had known her mother, he barely looked older than Reed, maybe a few years or so, but that wouldn't answer the first question. Callas had never seen him before her father's death. All she wanted was answers, but every corner she turned down she came face-to-face with a dead end. One open door led to twenty more locked doors, each with their own one hundred locks. It seemed nearly impossible for Callas to get a straight answer. A lump formed in her throat when Will stepped closer again, almost taunting her, knowing that she was terrified of who he was.

     "Don't come any closer, or I swear to—"

     "Swear to what? Hmm? C'mon, Icarus, let's not fly too close to the sun. You'll only get burned." Will kept inching closer to Callas, her instincts took over and she swung the knife at him. Will raised his left arm, dodging the knife from stabbing his face, and the knife went through his arm to the other side, almost into his eye. She watched in horror as his eyes glowed a deep red with anger. "Oh, sweet little Callas, how I wish you hadn't done that."

     Will launched his right arm forward, gripping onto the back of Callas's head, his fingers caught in her hair. He pulled her head back before he slammed it forward onto the corner of the island counter. Will let her drop to the ground. Callas groaned out in pain, slowly trying to crawl away from him, her eyesight was blurring. Her arm, out in front of her, seemed to multiply. She turned over to her back, looking at the two Will's who just tilted their heads, just watching her before they looked at their left arm. Callas could see that his eyes changed colour to a deep red, but she wasn't sure if she was just seeing things due to her double vision. She kept blinking, hoping that her vision would clear and she would see only one Will, or maybe none and that it was all just a dream. An unrealistic one at that.

     "Great." He frowned. "You ruined my favourite jacket."

     Callas watched as Will yanked the knife out of his arm, he groaned and he gritted his teeth together, setting the bloodied knife on the island counter. Unsure if it was real or due to a possible concussion that she had just received, Callas watched as Will's skin, a small part that she could see from the hole left in his jacket, begin to seal closed as if there had never been a knife in it less than ten seconds prior. Horrified, a noise bubbled from the back of Callas's throat. She backed away as quickly as she could, with her body wanting to give up on her, until she hit the wall, her back pressed against it. There was an uncomfortable warmth running down the side of her head, she lifted her hand up and winced as her hand drew away covered in warm, red blood.

     "You're going to regret—"

     Will looked up from her, his eyes scanning the wall and the two possible exits to the kitchen. Callas looked at him weirdly, not being able to hear what he did, as a strange ringing sensation stung her eardrums. Will sniffed the air, a growl ripped from the back of his throat with disgust. He glanced back down to Callas before he had disappeared with the blink of an eye. Callas whimpered, with tears rolling down her cheeks. The sound of the front door slamming reached her ears, along with the faint calling of her name. She couldn't make out who it was, but Reed's name left her lips, and she looked towards the doorway from the kitchen into the living room. Sam, Embry, and Jacob rushed into the kitchen. Sam's lips moved but she couldn't quite make it out.

     Reed ran into the kitchen, looking from Sam before his gaze shifted to her. His jaw dropped before he quickly made his way over to her, gently holding her head in his hands, looking her over for more injuries. Callas smiled weakly at him until she watched Sam walk over to the island counter, noticing the knife in the middle. He looked back at Embry and Jacob, then turned his attention to Callas. Reed was softly brushing the hair from her face, he had his own tears rolling down his face as he shook his head, mumbling no, over and over again. His hands trembled. He kept whispering apologies to her, but Callas probably wouldn't remember them in a few hours. Reed rubbed her cheeks with his shaking thumbs, her blood smearing over her cheeks as he did.

     "Were you stabbed?" Sam asked in a monotone voice. Embry's head pricked up at the three words and made his way over to the other side of Callas. Reed kept trying to push him away, cradling Callas body to his own.

     Callas's voice sounded dry, "No, but Will was."

     Reed furrowed his eyebrows, his voice cracked slightly, "Will? As in Will Blanchard?"

     "He's a—" She wheezed, coughing slightly.

     "Vampire," Reed finished for her.

     "But they're not real, they're folklore." Her head shook as more tears sprung to her eyes. "Please tell me they're just folklore," she begged.

     "We have to get her to a hospital." Reed looked up to Sam. His eyes glassed over with anger, but not towards Sam, towards Will. Sam simply nodded his head, he then nodded to Embry. Embry was about to lift Callas up when Reed growled and pushed him away. Reed lifted Callas up himself, feeling her arms wrap weakly around his neck, and he noticed her eyes begin to close.

     Embry noticed as well. "Stay awake, Callas."

     "But I'm just so tired." She tried to shake her head.

     Sam moved around the counter, to where Callas had been standing before she fell, he noticed the blood trail drip down the side of. "Jake, drive them to the hospital. Embry, you're with me."

     Embry opened his mouth to speak, "But—"

     "Embry," Sam warned, gritting his teeth. Embry looked over to Callas sadly, Reed began making his way out of the kitchen. Jacob had already left, starting the truck up. "Not now. They both need this," his voice softened. "Reed needs to stay with her."

     "But she's my—"

     "I know. You want to stay with her and protect her. But you can protect her by hunting Will down with us."

     Embry heard the tires screech as Jacob drove Reed and Callas to Forks hospital. Anger flooded his system as he looked back at Sam, his body shook. "I'm going to kill him."