10 Arch 1 Chapter 10

Arch 1

Chapter 1o

Claron was brought into a grand council chamber, completely lit by candlelight, so the shadows danced maliciously along the walls, Gretchen by his side. They were restrained to their chairs tightly by their heads, lower arms, wrists, calves, ankles, and had several straps around their midsections.

Raised up above them sat thirteen people who would decide their fate, all with the hoods on their black cloaks up to obscure their faces, and right in the middle was Everett St. James, who had now pulled his cover down, and decided to wear an eyepatch to cover his blind eye, likely for the sole reason of looking more menacing. Behind him stood a somehow even more shaken looking Cato; there was a chair for him, but he couldn't quite make himself stationary enough to sit. It looked like he was legitimately in some form of physical pain, and his cowl had fallen back from his incessant fidgeting.

On either side of him sat a young man and a young woman who were clearly twins, Everett's children, Adler and Cadence St. James, respectively. They must have looked like their mother, because, while there wasn't any trace of Everett in them, they had white-blond hair-Cadence's down to just beneath her shoulder blades, and Adler's kept short like his father's-and clear, emerald eyes that knew nothing of mercy and held contempt for the accused below. They, too, were free of their coverings, though the rest of the assembly kept theirs up.

Other lower-ranking members of the Cloak and Dagger sat on the bleachers on either side of the room, their eyes cold and glinting in the darkness, the light from the candles catching on them, making them spark with cruelty, wanting blood.

St. James stood, clearing his throat, his voice resonant, ringing out over them all, the low rumble of chatter immediately and effectively shutting down all conversation.

"Donovan Claron," he began in an accusatory tone. "You have failed to make good on the deal you have made with me, and the Cloak and Dagger at large. I am not going to ask you how you plead, because it matters nothing to me. I gave you exactly one chance to right your wrong, and you failed to do so. We have decided your punishment, and it will be enacted post haste, and with great prejudice."

He motioned to the large, extremely heavy Cold Iron doors-specifically forged to make the unnaturals uneasy and weaken them-where two people with medical masks, lab coats, and gloves on entered, pushing a cart with two syringes on them.

"No, no, NO! Wait, stop! I-I can still get her, I swear!" Claron pleaded in a panic, trashing against his restraints to no avail. He didn't know what, exactly, was in those syringes, but he also knew it was no good, and he didn't particularly want to find out how not good it was. "I-I'M STILL VALUABE TO YOU! All my research-that wasn't done in vain! Take-take the girl, if you still need your pound of flesh! I can still be useful!"

Gretchen's jaw dropped to the floor.

"What?! WHAT?!" she shouted indignantly. "After all I've done for you, after all of my loyalty?!"

"Survival of the fittest, kid. If it's between you and me, I'm going to pick me."

Everett chuckled icily, in a way that was completely devoid of humor.

"See, my friends? My brothers and sisters?" he said. "See how these unnaturals so quickly turn on one another?! This is the evil we must purge from our world!"

He was met with a roaring cacophony of cheers and righteous exclamations. Everett held up a hand, and silence fell on them all again quickly.

"And so, now we exact our vengeance!" he looked down at the people who had come in with the cart. "Him first." he told them, motioning to Claron. "See, all of that research of yours? It's ours now. Terribly ironic, isn't it, that it'll now be turned on its creator?"

Claron roared in defiance, trying anything to get away in desperation.

Of course, it was no use, and a long needle was shoved into his neck, and one of the men depressed the plunger, expelling Claron's own concoction into his system, pulsing through his veins in betrayal. It took about two minutes before Claron's eyes went blank, like he hadn't a thought of his own. A white film overtook them. He stopped struggling.

"Release him." Everett commanded, and when they did, Claron only stood, making no other move. "Transform into a wolf."

Claron fell onto his hands and knees, his body quivering. He'd been shifting for years and years, so it shouldn't have hurt…but it did. It wasn't yet the full moon, and he wasn't supposed to be doing this, but it was something else, too. He howled in pain as his body shifted, bone scraping across bone as they snapped and reformed, all the while Claron's high keens of pain reverberated along the walls and up to the high-vaulted ceiling.

Eventually Claron lay there, panting…but what he'd turned into was no normal wolf. He was big enough to be mistaken for Fenrir himself. Werewolves were for bigger than regular wolves, but…they weren't that big. His mottled, black-gray-white fur now covered coils of muscle, and his head was positively massive, as were the teeth held within his jaws. Werewolves only had paws when in wolf form, and were strictly quadrupedal, but, as Claron pushed himself up, his mouth frothing, he went easily from all fours to his back legs only, and what would have been his front paws now looked like human hands, except fur-covered, and with long, dangerous claws. His ears were far more pointed as well, and almost took on the likeness of horns.

"See now! For too long we have lost sons and daughters, mother and fathers, to these unnaturals. Well, I say no more! With this research, we can effectively bring them as a whole to heel-under our heel! Our mission will be made so much simpler. This, my friends, my family…this is how we do it!" he turned his attentions back to Gretchen. "As for you, girl." one of the men had the other syringe, and came at her with it. "Hold off. Perhaps there's a deal that could be made with this one, don't you think? What's your name, girl?"

"G-Gretchen, Sir. Gretchen Leight."

"Well then, Ms. Leight. I can see why you'd want revenge. You do want it, don't you? Why don't I enable you to have it-so long as you're quite willing to help me out in return?"