Chapter XIV

"War does not determine who is right- only who is left."

-Bertrand Russell

He frowned as he heaved the weapon over his shoulder. How Timothy held this thing was beyond Darrin's comprehension. "Timothy, must you force me to practice with this?"

Timothy sighed, hanging his head. "Seeing that fact they believe you to be Dryad Warrior, you'll have to live up to the part."

Darrin groaned. "Again, why that excuse?"

Garroth walked into the room, his shirt off from his training. "Well, would you rather have been a fairy?"

His lips pursed. No way in Hell he thought, his brow furrowing with anger. Timothy snorted at his expression, and then easily stole the sword out of his grip. Darrin made a cry of protest, causing Timothy to only burst into laughter. Suddenly, chains wrapped around Timothy, causing him to yelp as he was pulled off the ground and hung upside down, chained to the rafters.

"What the Hell, you arse head!" Timothy screamed, putting on a mock British accent.

A low chuckle sounded from the shadows as the last Monster Hunter in Points Brooke walked out. He wore his signature black, skin tight suit with the same ninja-esque helmet. In fact, you could consider him a ninja/assassin. His weapon was a chain, that seemed to never end. He used it like a whip, nun-chucks, and as something to confine someone, as he demonstrated with Timothy. his blue eyes studied each of them before he pulled on the chain, causing it to let timothy down. He hit the ground, and groaned in pain before flinging a few choice words at the Monster Hunter. He simply replied with laughter, earning him the bird.

Garroth burst into laughter. "You should've seen your face!"

"Well excuse me, Dollop Head." Timothy muttered as he picked himself up.

"Caleb, what are you doing here?" Garroth asked, picking at his sleeve.

Caleb shrugged. "My baby sister has been kidnapped, I have to be here."

"How are we gonna explain this to the others?" Darrin asked, voicing everyone else's worries.

Timothy rubbed his jaw as he began pacing. Either he was rubbing it while deep in thought, or because it probably hurt like the Devil was unknown to Darrin. His eyes lit up as he came to a conclusion. "You'll just have to stalk us!"

Everyone burst into laughter. "W-what?' Caleb said through his laughs.

He sighed, hanging his head. "Caleb will stalk us, and eventually come out once we reveal ourselves."

Darrin nodded. As stupid as it sounded before, it was very possible. However, Garroth being Garroth, brought up the loophole in the plan. "Tim, it seems good, but what about the Werewolves?"

Timothy's face fell. He clearly hadn't thought of that detail. Darrin bit his lip as he thought of a solution. "What if we all carry around some of his clothes, make it seem like that's what they're smelling?"

"Another flaw: how do we explain why we are carrying his clothes?"

"I don't know," Darrin said, his jaw clenched as Garroth brought that up. Honestly, there was times when he wanted to punch his face in.

Garroth looked up as soon as he thought this, and Darrin realized he'd heard that. He immediately apologized and then went back to thinking.

Finally, Caleb spoke up. "Ya'll are poor, right?"

Timothy scoffed. "I'm sorry we don't all have family." He murmured, louder than he probably intended to.

He sighed. "Sorry, but think of it this way. With you being, well, not as well off as most, you could say you had to borrow some of my clothes."

"Wish I could fit in 'em, though." Timothy grumbled sadly as he looked down at his thin body.

He scoffed at his comment. Timothy had such low self-esteem. Darrin felt kind of sorry for him at points. He never seemed to hold himself above others, unless he was putting on the act he always did around others.

Darrin hated him. He hated remembering the past, but he had to. If it wasn't for him, she might still be here...no, don't let him get to you again, Darrin he thought to himself. He glanced back over at Timothy, who was shuffling his feet as Caleb began telling them when to pick up the clothes. He sighed before tuning back in.

"...and after you pick them up, you'll head to the meeting area they plotted out, and after heading out, I'll follow. It should work, okay?"

Darrin nodded, though the nagging voice in the back of his head was warning him about this.

And he didn't know whether to trust it or not.

****

My brain wasn't working properly. Honestly, if I was truly in my right mind, none of that would have happened. Darrin admitted it, and so did she.

At least, I think she would.

Every time I think of her, my heart beats faster. Not just out of sadness or fright, but out of something deeper.

Love.

Most people say you have to be a certain age to actually feel true love.

Those guys are idiots.

If I were to ever go back and do it again, I'd make sure I was the one who got hurt, not her.

In fact, the more I think about it, the more I know that things can never get better. I will always be paying for the guilt and pain that continues to haunt me. You're all probably confused to no end, so I'll show you.

It all happened when I was fresh on the field, so I was fifteen...

Garroth chuckled lightly as he patted my back. "How's it feel to be on the field, Tim?"

I shrugged. "Nerve-wracking, I guess?"

Darrin laughed. "Don't worry, Tim, you'll be fine!"

"Thanks, Darrin." I said, flush filling my face. Suddenly, a warm hand patted my back. I almost shivered at her touch, but I refrained myself.

"You'll do great!" She said, kissing my cheek. I turned to her, my cheeks bright pink. Her brown eyes stared back into mine, as if trying to gauge what I was thinking. Her hair reached just pass her shoulder blades, and it was a dark brown, though it got lighter near the ends. Her skin was a bit darker, due to her Greek heritage.

Darrin patted his cousin's back. "Come on, Megan, everyone. We have to flush out this nest of Vamps that have been attacking the local town." He said, reaching behind him. He pulled out his weapon: a whip.

It wasn't the weapon of choice I'd have made, but it was effective. It was made of silver thread and has salt embedded into it, like most modern weapons. It was about twelve feet long, not including the handle which was sixteen inched long, the same size as the modern cow whips. He cracked it, causing the Vamps in the nest to perk up. Normally you'd think that was a bad idea, but with our group and our man power, we should be fine.

I pulled out my sword, and Garroth his dagger. Megan pulled out her gun. It was a semi-automatic pistol. It was a creamy white color, and the handle was made to look like a stained wood, though it was obviously metal. Her bullets were silver and were encrusted with salt. She was mainly meant as the one to injure the Vampires should they get too close to one of us and we were unable to do anything. Then, we charged.

It was bloody, for the Vampires. We were winning, and I'd probably killed about five vampires already. Garroth was nearing four, and Darrin had managed to trap a few and was currently snapping their necks while Megan was injuring them.

Things calmed down quickly. Our clothes were covered in blood, and we were alone. we all relaxed, assuming things were done. However, we couldn't have been more wrong.

I was seated calmly in the corner, cleaning off my sword. I got up once I was finished, and made my way over, but stopped midway to admire Megan. I was about to say something when she looked up, but her face paled.

You know how whenever something bad happens, time slows? That seemed to be what was happening to me.

She sprinted towards me, screaming at me. She ran from behind me just as I felt a sharp pain in my leg. A scream escaped my throat as black and yellow spots danced across my vision. I felt a sickening crack, and it wasn't from me. Darrin and Garroth immediately stood up and raced over, but I was already blacked out from the pain, and the shock.

I awoke a day later to find myself in the infirmary. In the bed next to me was Megan. She had tubs sticking out of her. The machine she was attached to showed a steady heartbeat, but she looked dead. Her lively face was frozen in a frown. Her tanned skin was pale, and I could see a few veins showing. Her chest rose and fell in a way that was almost impossible to see.

After being checked out a week later, she had yet to awaken. I was in crutches due to my leg injury, and wasn't allowed back in the field for at least two months.

I thought everything would be over. And then, Darrin came into my life.

He blamed me for Megan's injury. He blamed me for her being in a coma.

The more he said this stuff, the more I believed it.

I ended up believing Megan's comatose state was my fault. I still blame myself.

Every time Darrin and I cross paths, we fight. He usually refrains from bringing it up now due to a rough patch I went through soon after it, which makes me feel thankful to him.

That doesn't stop him from hating me, though.

If she ever were to wake up, he'd never let me lay eyes on her anymore. I visit her every time I am in the main headquarters, where she is being held.

She's been on life support for two years. Her heart has never stopped, but she has yet to wake up either. They say if this continues much longer, than they'll have to unplug her. Of course I don't want that to happen, but it's not like we have much of a choice.

I shuddered as these thoughts plagued my mind as we drove to Mitchel's house. Involuntarily, my eyes wandered over to Darrin. He was staring out the window in the passenger's seat, his face expressionless. Garroth drove while I sat directly behind him. I wanted to say something, but knew I shouldn't.

Absentmindedly, I turned back to the window and watched the stores whiz by was we drove through the darkness. We only had one day left before Andrea's fate was to be decided.

We had to hurry.

****

Mitchel sat on his couch, staring into the empty void in front of him. He studied each flake of paint on the wall, and saw the ridges of the wall. He cocked his head to the side. What was the point of them, anyways? Aesthetic appeal? Constructional purpose? A puzzle meant to baffle the minds of mortal men?

He felt someone rub his shoulder. He looked up and saw Charlotte looking down at him. "Are you okay?" She asked, her eyes filled with worry.

"Yes." He said, though he was far from it.

It was obvious she did not believe him, but said nothing. The others were staring at him, and they clearly wanted to say something. Aristide opened his mouth, but the door bell cut him off. Charlotte muttered something about it being the rest before rushing off to open the door.

"Mitchel, if something was wrong, you'd tell us, right?" Michal said, concern for his friend evident in his voice.

"Of course," Mitchel said, not meeting their eyes. He hated lying to them.

Aristide scoffed. "Tell us the truth,"

"That is the truth, Aristide."

"No, no it isn't." Zoe said, staring at him.

Mitchel narrowed his eyes at them, but then sighed. "D-drop it, please?"

Their eyes widened, but they said nothing else as to appease his wish. He was thankful to that. He didn't feel like speaking at the moment.

Charlotte came back in with Garroth, Timothy, and Darrin in tow. Garroth was giving them a small smile. Darrin had no emotion whatsoever on his face. However, Timothy looked like he could burst into tears at any moment. Estal pursed his lips. "Timothy, are you okay?"

A solitary tear rolled down his face. "Y-yeah, why wouldn't I be?" He asked, though he sounded choked up.

Garroth patted his back before seating him down. While they discussed the plan, no sarcastic quips were made from anyone.

Troy sighed. "Let's hope this works, aye?"

"Are you trying to act like Happy?" Draco muttered under his breath.

"Who?" Fai asked, looking intently at him.

Draco muttered 'nothing' while shaking his head.

Michal sighed. "It'll be risky, but what isn't with our kind, huh?"

Timothy's expression darkened, but he said nothing. Garroth glared at him, and immediately fear spread across Timothy's face. Darrin's eyes widened, and he looked at Garroth like he was insane. Mitchel sighed. "Are you having an internal conversation, or something?"

"Yes." Timothy said.

"No." Garroth and Darrin said.

The three all glared at each other. Leyna sighed. "Damn, this'll be harder than I thought."

"No kidding." Aristide said, watching the trio.

Mitchel felt his shoulders sag as he replayed the plan in his head. Would it work? Maybe. Would it end with one of them dead? Possibly. Would they get Andrea? Yes.

To Mitchel, it was something he'd take the risk for.

And nobody would stop him.

****

Word Count: 2301

Holy cow, I'm so sorry for this being late!

I've had a shit week. (Sorry about that, but seriously, it has been shit)

As I said before: Finals, Monday. Tuesday: last day of school. Wednesday: promotion. Thursday: helped my mom move classrooms. Friday: got to see Civil War! (SQUEE). Saturday: trip to the Emergency room (I'll explain in a sec) and finally Sunday: cousin's birthday party.

Now, for Saturday. I was up at 2:30 am (don't question it, I was reading a story on Wattpad), and my right side was hurting, so I figured it was because I had to use the restroom, since it wasn't that bad. Upon using it, however, it felt like my right side had suddenly been torn up with a knife. At 2:40 I woke my parents up, and they began to worry that it would be appendicitis (if you don't know what it is, then look it up, but be prepared to be scared, because I sure was). If you're lazy and don't want to look it up, here's a run down.

Your appendix is this organ that sits at the junction between your large intestine and small intestine (I looked that part up, sue me). Appendicitis is when your appendix 'burst', or gets infected. It leads to surgical relocation (aka removing it from your body).

Science done, I guess. I am not good at science when talking body parts, so don't yell at me if I got something wrong, just fix it for people in the comments. Anyways, they took me to the emergency room at 4:30, I think, because it didn't open till 5 or something like that. Upon getting there they took my height and weight, and asked whether or not I felt safe at home or ever thought about self harm, got oxygen levels and blood pressure, and then took my temperature which happened to be below normal at a 97 degrees Fahrenheit (~37 degrees Celsius). they then fitted me with a wrist band and took me to a room to await the nurses and doctors.

They had me do a Urine test, they took blood from me, and inserted on IV (that was somewhat painful, but not as bad as I thought it would be) had me do an Ultra Sound, and a CT Scan. I had to down two bottles of Lime Gatorade tasting water/medicine for the CT Scan.

The CT scan was honestly one of the more prepped things I had to do. With the bottles included, I also had to have my IV cleaned out with a solution (had salt in it, which stung as it went into me) because I had been having water pumped into me because of my low hydration levels, and then had to have this medicine pumped into me. It was meant to 'highlight' your internal organs so it would be easier for the CT Scan to see them. The man doing my scan told me it would feel warm going in there, like stepping into a warm bath. It would probably make me feel like peeing, and I might get a metallic taste in my mouth. Seeing as the hospital was probably in the negatives, I thought it would be refreshing.

Whatever a warm bath feels like to him, sure as heck didn't feel like that to me.

The 'warm' feeling felt like lava running through my body, and the peeing sensation was like trying to hold back molten lava. It was gone soon though, which I was thankful for. Upon telling my parents this, they laughed and told me how creative my mind was. Of course I glared at them and muttered about me not joking, but whatever.

After another hour or so, they came back with the results. Turns out my right ovary was larger than it was supposed to be, and my spleen was apparently larger than most other people's, but since it was on the left side, it couldn't have been the spleen causing me issues. So yes, I now have a resentment to my ovary because it almost made me black out from pain when I should have been sleeping peacefully in my bed, dreaming of Marvel. Also, the stupid IV left this large bruise on my arm, and everyone always asks how I got it, and I have to respond with the truth, and they ask why, and once I say why, they ask what it was, and I feel weird telling people, especially men.

Anyway, out of my health issues, what did you think of the chapter? I hope it was more emotional, and serious. I'm trying to put out that sort of vibe, but don't worry, it'll be more jokey later on.

So, with this 750-ish word Author's Note, I'll leave you all be. So long, peeps!

-Paige