setting
Index was once a small and close-knit community, but the town located on the western side of Washington state has grown in recent years beyond anyone's expectations. It is the ideal place for those who work in Seattle but can't afford the city's high real estate prices, and for others the natural beauty attracts them to the town. And Index truly is a beautiful place - surrounded by thick evergreen trees, tall mountains and glistening rivers and lakes. While weather is typically rainy with overcast skies even this does nothing to take away from the beauty of the town, and it is only highlighted further when the heavy snow graces the town and caps the mountains in winter. To many, Index would seem like a paradise. And yet lurking beneath this visual beauty there is more to this town than anyone might ever imagine...

Current Time in Index, Washington:
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 [Private] Dawn of the Dead - Page 4

[Private] Dawn of the Dead

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Re: [Private] Dawn of the Dead

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Sun Aug 30, 2015 12:00 am

Yeah I fucking let him hit me. What? Is that so goddamned unbelievable? The fuck? Why was I even talking with her about this shit, I was the one injured here. Shouldn't she be fucking, I don't know, taking care of me or something? Making me feel better by flashing me or, shit I don't know, something? Anything but trash talking, shit... Well, if he can fucking dish it then he should be able to take it. That's my motto... Since... Well, now actually. And yeah, let's just leave it at that. You don't bitch about testosterone shit, and I won't give you shit when you're bleeding out your you know what every month. I turned back to answer her question. Fuck yeah, I ripped it off Youtube and put it on disk. So, the truth was out. I liked seeing good movies on big screen, so fucking what, sue me.

I practically fucking internally cried when she put her hoodie back on. Off was better, in fact, she would do well to lose a few more items of clothing. Fuck I'd rather deal with pigs and see more skin than be out here if this was how it was gonna be. Yeah, yeah, because seeing me get knocked out is such a fucking blessing. Don't act like you didn't have fun on our date tonight. We both know it's a lie. Shit, I couldn't stop myself from doing that thing, with the f and the l, the flir-... The flir... The fucking flirting thing, goddamn I hated that word. I hated what it meant, I hated the way it sounded, I hated thinking it, I hated doing it, but it was fucking happening and it was so goddamn gay I might as well throw on some cutoff denim shorts, tie my shirt up and lube my fucking asshole because it was fucking gay.

When she leaned in I don't know... I don't know what the fuck was even happening anymore. To be honest, I'd been feeling really fucking weird since I regained consciousness. Like something was off. That had to be it, that had to be the reason why I was acting so weird, that had to be the reason why I... I just fucking leaned in too. Maybe I read it wrong, maybe I didn't, maybe I didn't want to admit that I was reading it wrong because I wanted it to be fucking real, but it didn't matter because I was already fucking kissing her like a dumb fuck and... Shit, I wanted her to knock me out now, and be gone before I came to.

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Re: [Private] Dawn of the Dead

Peyton Marx | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Sun Aug 30, 2015 1:20 am

Jesus, calm the fuck down I wasn't trying to insult you or anything. I hadn't, right? Fuck, I didn't know if I had or hadn't, I'd just said the first thing that popped into my head because it'd been funny. At the very least I could definitely say I hadn't been trying to piss him off, not that he wouldn't have deserved in if that had been my intention. It was his own fault he'd gotten punched and I was almost tempted to point that out to him but I pressed my lips together and held it back, along with the laugh that probably would've followed. Fine, whatever you say. 

For the second time that night I found my face scrunching up in disgust at something he'd said. It wasn't like I didn't know what he was referring to but, ugh, hearing him mention it just seemed so wrong. Seriously? I mean couldn't you have just said you wouldn't talk about estrogen or something instead of saying... that. My sentence finished in another laugh that I couldn't help, one that was partly residual shock from the words that had left his mouth. At least what he said next was distraction enough for me to be able to push it to the back of my mind. Not bad. I mean, obviously the quality wouldn't be as good but, hell, you don't watch movies with a few decades on them for the high definition, you watch them because they're still fucking great without it.

Blessing? Nah, but seeing anyone get knocked out is entertaining. Especially if it's the guy distracting you from seeing the glory of a George Romero classic. Totally deserved in that case. I stopped, rolling my eyes at what he said next. Hey, never said I didn't have fun. I learned shit about what perverts do it theaters that I never wanted to fucking know, I don't see how anyone wouldn't count the whole experience as a win. I finished sarcastically, wishing he hadn't felt the need to enlighten me on that shit. You owe me a bag of popcorn though. I told him, the tone of my voice making it obvious that I wasn't serious.

When I leaned closer I had just wanted to check if he was gonna end up with a nice ol' shiner, just because I figured it'd be as funny as everything else that happened. But it was stupid of me, even if I hadn't meant anything by it. Stupid to just forget that being close to him would make me think of things I was better off not thinking about. My gaze moved to meet his without me meaning to and for a second it was I was stuck, like I was just frozen. Until his lips met mine and my body reacted instinctively. My arms raised and wrapped around his shoulders without me telling them to, my body closed the distance between us, pressing against the length of his before I even registered that I was moving. A stupid fucking sigh of air parted my lips for a second before I was kissing him back, my lips rasping against his as my pulse thundered loudly in my head, blocking out all room for logically thought. A slow burn had started in the pit of my stomach and was intent on making its' way up to my chest. I lost any ability to keep track of time then, and just gave in.

Then it was like I wasn't even there anymore. My mind shifted and I was somewhere else, still with him but everything was moving slowly and was all the more intense because of it. A surge of emotion ran through my chest, one I felt like I should know but I didn't want to acknowledge. Those dreams, those goddamn fucking dreams, that what I was remembering. Was there any peace from the stupid shit my mind decided to conjure up when I slept? Now I had to deal with it when I was awake too? 

Clarity finally filtered through and I pulled away, my hands moving to grip his shoulders but this time it was to stop myself from giving into the temptation to continue. And right then all I fucking wanted to do was keep going. You said- I stopped, horribly fucking aware of how much my breathing had quickened. I mean, maybe... fuck I don't even know what I'm staying. I was tongue-tied, my thoughts were an indecipherable mess. My gaze was back on his lips and, fuck the dreams and every other thought they brought, I wanted to continue. But the memory of what he'd said at the Den came back, and I hesitated. There's a bar around the corner, maybe you need a drink after... the whole passing out thing. Oh. Fuck. Was I seriously pulling the 'pretend nothing happened card. Did I really think I could pull that off when I was still standing there, so fucking close to him, my eyes still fixed on his lips? I was a fucking idiot but I was a fucking idiot who was clutching at straws. Something told me to be careful, a voice at the back of my head was fucking eating away at me, contradicting what I wanted.

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Re: [Private] Dawn of the Dead

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Sun Aug 30, 2015 2:49 am

Right, estrogen... That's what it was called. Fuck she couldn't expect me to remember every word I'd heard in my entire life. The quality never gets better than the theater, but I think it's more about the sound quality than anything else. Right when the movie starts, and the volume is so loud and so clear and you feel that ball in the pit of your stomach, yanno, that same feeling you get when you're anticipating the drop on a roller coaster. Fuck it's the best fucking thing. I liked good audio, I actually probably appreciated it more than good visuals.

Well aren't you all sunshine and fucking bunnies and fucking rainbows caring? Yeah, it was fucking amusing watching someone get knocked out, but not when it was fucking me. Fuck if she got knocked out I'd probably detach the fuckers head that did it. But me? Nah, just entertaining. That was fucking fucked up. Your sarcasm gives me whiplash. I muttered, oddly enjoying the banter. What the fuck was wrong with me? Did I really like this shit? Fuck I needed a shrink... I don't owe you shit, I paid my dues tonight. Fuck it was true.

I knew I had read it wrong, fuck I was at least fifty-six percent certain I had read it wrong. But that wasn't why I regretted it. Even if I had one-hundred percent read it wrong, with any other woman, I still would have taken the dive and been happy about it. Even if I got slapped after. I still would have been happy. But with her it was dangerous, and that was why I regretted it. If there was a way to make myself forget, then maybe it'd be fucking easier, but it didn't work like that. Emotions fucked with mental gifts, and using your gift to get rid of those emotions was futile.

The more she was into it, the more I was into it, but that didn't change the fact that I had made a huge fucking mistake by initiating it. It didn't matter, pretty soon consequences meant nothing to me. Every reservation I had just faded away. God this was how it happened. This was how people got into trouble. Maybe it was this exact feeling that made thieves and murderers so fucking blind to the consequences of their actions. Just being in the fucking moment and loving the fuck out of it and enjoying every second so much you just don't give a shit what happens after.

The feeling of her body against mine, her lips, her arms around me and mine around her and fuck everything eventually began making me remember. I remembered anyway, but I tried not to think about the night I wiped her memory. Now I couldn't stop myself from thinking about it, and fuck it felt like I'd just jumped into a time machine and went back in time, only this time I couldn't change what I'd done, and fuck I wanted so bad to undo it. Why the fuck did I stop this? Why the fuck wouldn't I let us experience this? I wanted to tell her, and if I'd had a second longer with her lips against mine, I probably would have.

When she pulled away I just looked at her. It was probably written all over my face... Why stop? I had no idea what she was saying, because I was so fucking wrapped up in that stupid question. I didn't care what I'd said. I didn't want a fucking drink. I didn't want to go to the fucking bar. I wanted to stay here and pick up where we left off. Why the fuck did I have a feeling she was just doing exactly what I had done in the theater? Why did I know deep down she was just trying to change the subject and switch focus to something else? I knew it because some parts of her personality were exactly like fucking mine, and clearly, those were the less desirable traits...

I gripped her shoulders and spun her around to pin her against the wall. My lips hovered over hers, and it was like resisting a fucking magnet. I wanted to go in, but I wasn't allowing myself, because as annoying as her fucking ''change the subject'' tactic was, she was fucking right to do it. My expression tensed up and I hit the wall behind her for turning around to walk away, but I just ended up walking in a circle, and was back to standing right in front of her. Yeah I uh... I do need a dr- The sound of something zipping past my ear had me quickly turning around to see what the fuck it was. Did you hear tha- When I turned around I noticed something that looked like a dart sticking out of her neck as her eyes were closing and body sliding down the brick. I tried to reach for her, and barely got a sound out before I felt a sharp pain in my neck. I reached up to pull it out, but it was too late. The world around me was fading into this fucking weird pinhole effect, and everything went black.



Buzzing... I heard that buzzing, and I could feel heat from above. When my eyes opened all I could see was blinding light. Fuck I'd been here before. This was eerily familiar. This was familiar but really fucking bad, this was really fucking bad. As my vision faded back in, I was in a white room. It was the white room. I couldn't move, I was strapped to the very same chair I'd been strapped in when those fangers captured me. Only this time... One thing was different... Peyton was by my side...

Pey! Her head was down and arms strapped to the chair just like mine. I immediately tried to shift but just like before, I couldn't, so I tried wiggling out of my straps... Nothing. My head quickly turned back to her, Wake up! Fucking wake up! I could feel panic, worse than before because I knew the kinds of things that were done in this room. I knew what they were going to do, but this time it wasn't just me. This time it wasn't going to be just me. She began lifting her head, but she wasn't fast enough. I couldn't warn her before someone entered the room, and this time, it wasn't Ursula...

I immediately straightened out and glared at the petite blonde in front of us. Fuck you if you think you're going to do this shit to me again, and I'll fucking rip your goddamned throat out myself if you think you're doing it to her. Let me fucking go or I'll send myself off a goddamned cliff and kill your changes of contacting Li- The woman placed her finger over her lip, ''That's enough Mr. Byrne. We don't use that name here. I only came in to offer you and your warlord some water...'' The woman placed two glasses with straws on the table in front of us, close enough for our mouths to reach. You think I'm stupid enough to drink anything fangers give? It could be poisoned. Fuck you. She smiled and clasped her hands together. ''If we wanted to kill you, we could have done so while you were unconscious. And please, we aren't vampires... Do drink something, I'll be back later for your evaluation.'' And just like that, she was gone.

What did she mean they're not vampires? I'd been here before... I knew what they were... It didn't matter. It didn't fucking matter. I looked at Peyton, trying so fucking hard to hide the panic in my eyes but I couldn't. This wasn't fucking good. I didn't care who they were, I didn't care if it was a lie or not, I didn't give a fuck, I knew what this room was used for... Please fucking say something.

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Re: [Private] Dawn of the Dead

Peyton Marx | Wolf; Warlord/Battlelord

Posted on Sun Aug 30, 2015 12:08 pm

God-fucking-damnit, he was not helping with the whole stupid grin thing, not when he starting talking about shit I agreed with and had thought about in some form or other myself. Shit, that's so true. I mean, getting to see a movie with the volume way, way up and no one lodging fucking noise complaints like a fucking neighbor would if you tried to watch it at a decent level in your own home... it's one of the reasons I like this place and it's whole 're-run' thing. Especially if you'd never gotten to see it on the big screen the first time round for whatever reason. Like, uh, not being born.

My grin didn't slip even a little bit at his remark. If anything it just made me want to laugh. Yeah, that's so me. I'm a regular Little Miss Maniacally Happy or whatever the fuck it is. The whole 'rainbow caring' thing had stuck with me though and I was speaking without really thinking about what I was going to say once again. But just so you know it's not like I sat there laughing at you after he punched you. Shit, I all but broke his wrist and you're not the only one coming out of that with a bruise. I snorted, remembering the look on his face as he'd gone back over the seat, arms windmilling uselessly. And yeah you totally fucking owe me, my popcorn was an innocent bystander in all that shit. Plus I didn't see how him starting the shit that got him knocked out was paying his dues.

How the hell was it possible for a scenario to change so quickly? One second we were just talking, actually just joking around and... fuck it'd been almost possible to ignore the tension that ran underneath everything. Then one thing, one small movement was all it took to bring it all to the surface. Being that close to him and trying to ignore the urge to get closer... fuck, that was fighting a losing battle right from the start.

There was all that hyper-awareness shit just totally taking over the fucking second his lips met mine, like I knew every part of my body that was touching his, like I could feel each individual inch. He totally invaded my senses and made it hard to think, made me not want to even try. When his arm went around me my body just relaxed, leaning into his like I was trying to get even closer, like maybe wanting it bad enough would somehow stop it being physically impossible. 

It made it all the more impossible to the pull away, but I managed it. Fuck, maybe it was a kind of self-preservation instinct at play? Trying to do the smart thing just felt fucking stupid and the look on his face when I finally managed to tear my gaze away from his mouth had a voice in my head practically screaming the word at me. Stupid! Why the fuck would you do that?! Why had I stopped again. It was getting harder to remember in the face of wanting to just fucking continue. Why wasn't there an option to put your brain on mute, to stop unwanted thoughts filtered through so you could just act without having to deal will your brain dredging up the pro's and fucking con's of what you were doing?

But I wasn't wrong to pull away, even if I didn't want to, that was what stopped me from just leaning forward again. 'Course that went right out of the fucking window when he grabbed me, turning me to press up against the wall. That action combined with the way his lips were just so goddamn close had a groan of frustration slipping passed my lips. Vincent... I didn't know if I was going to tell him to stop or beg him to continue and just fucking ignore what I'd said. I'd had my moment of strength and it was fast slipping away. My hands had somehow found their way down from his shoulders and slipped under the hem of his shirt, fingertips barely touching the skin of his stomach. I hadn't even been fucking aware of that happening. But he took over then, his expression changing and the way he hit the wall was proof of that. I knew that I should be relieved but that was the furthest thing from what I felt. I closed my eyes, releasing a breath I hadn't known I was holding, only opening them again at the sound of his voice. A drink. Fuck, at this point I could do with one of those myself. 

But I didn't get a chance to say anything. As I opened my mouth to respond there was a prickling of awareness at the back of my neck, some sense that preluded a sound that I barely had a chance to hear before something smacked into my neck with a pinch of pain. My mind whirled, trying to cram thought after thought into the space of a few seconds. My arm jerked, as though I'd instinctively been about to try and swat away whatever had hit me but it was pointless. My vision was already clouding, darkening around the edges rapidly. I dimly registered the grating feel of my back sliding down the wall for all of a second as my legs went out but that was it. Then there was nothing.



Holy fucking headache. That was the first thing I became aware of. Pain licked at the edges of my brain, focusing more on one side than the other. I tried to think, tried to bring back what had caused it but my thoughts were murky, slipping away from me the moment I tried to grab a hold of them. It was like waking up in hospital after sleeping too long because you'd taking too much fucking cough medicine or some shit. I could feel my brows tense and pull together at the irritation of it. What the hell was going on. Another couple of second had me becoming dimly aware of something, of... noises?

My head started to clear more rapidly, the sounds sharpened into words and I recognized the voice. What was going on? I tried opening my eyes but the bright light made me head throb. I was conscious enough now to realize I'd hit it when I fell. Shit, the thought of falling had what little I remembered coming back in a rush. The weird feeling, that second of sound before something had embedded itself in my neck and everything had started to go dark. Light or no light I forced my eyes open, becoming aware of the fact that I was bound, my body instantly jerking in protest at the fact.

Everything was hitting me at once, the sight of the room we were in stirred a memory that wasn't mine and filled me with a wave of horror. I knew this place, and it wasn't because I'd ever been here before myself. Not physically. The door had opened and someone had walked in. But it wasn't them I looked at. My eyes went straight to him, something about seeing him here in the room I'd only seen through him had that feeling of horror increasing, mixed with panic and so much fucking anger. Not anger towards him but to-

My gaze ripped away, going straight to the small woman who'd walked in, the one that Vincent was shouting at. Hearing him say those words, hearing 'if you think you're going to do this shit to me again' made my heart lurch painfully in another burst of negative emotion. A snarl built in my throat as she approached, my body straining defensively, instinctively trying to turn so I could protect myself. The rest of there words were drowned out by the rushing sound in my head and I struggled, pointless trying to break free. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want either of use to be here, as futile as it was to even think it. I knew what had happened here. 

She was turning now, leaving the room. The sight of her just getting to walk the fuck out made it so much fucking worse. I slumped in my chair, like the fight had gone out of me. The sound of his voice had me turning to look at him, the look on his face making something within me ache and I was pretty sure it mirrored how I must look. Because there was a feeling of dread filling my mind and I couldn't ignore the fear I felt. What's going on? Why are we here? I kept my eyes riveted on his. This is... this is the room isn't it? I'm not imagining this shit, am I? I don't know what I was hoping for, maybe to have not actually woken up yet and for this to be a fucking nightmare.

Voicing those fears had me thinking back again, seeing what they'd done to him. The idea of it happening again, of actually having to see it happen. I couldn't fucking do that. I struggled again, my arms moving frantically until the bonds around start chafing at the bare skin of my wrists, breaking the skin. It was useless, I knew that from his memories but I'd still had to try. FUCK! Frustration and rage mingled in with every other feeling but I did stop fighting to break free again. My gaze returned to Vincent and I didn't move it away again, mentally pleading with him to correct me and tell me I'd been wrong, even though I knew I hadn't.

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Re: [Private] Dawn of the Dead

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Mon Aug 31, 2015 7:58 pm

I pegged her as one that'd be more into the visuals. She was an artist after all, but clearly she had a taste for good sound too. There was nothing wrong with that, in fact it was fucking cool since most people didn't pay attention to either detail when they went to the theater. Everyone just wanted a ''good story''. Fuck, some of the best movies I'd seen had the worst fucking stories... Well if that doesn't make me the pussy of the year, I don't know what does... Women fighting battles for men? Maybe it wasn't exactly unheard of among our kind... But at least I could sleep alright knowing that idiot would go home knowing he got fucked up by a girl.

The moment came, and it passed like every other. My body wasn't ruling my decisions anymore, my head was. And as much as I wanted shit to be different, it wasn't. The struggle was keeping moments like that in the fucking past. I couldn't stop myself from reliving them, over and over again, and as a result, fucking up, over and over again. Why the fuck couldn't I just put her behind me? The most infuriating thing was... There was one way I could have solved this. I could have sent her to run a different faction, somewhere far the fuck away from me and I wouldn't have to see her or risk reliving this shit with her over and over again. But go figure, I'd fucked up the chances of that happening by putting a damned crown on her head...



I don't fucking know, does it look like I fucking know? I spoke quickly before every vein in my body was nearly breaking through my skin from how hard I was trying to break the restraints. ''Those can hold up to five tons of pressure Mr. Byrne.'' Ursula's words rang throughout my head and that was all it took for me to stop and I threw my head back, a stupid mistake that made me remember it was that position that they had me in when they shoved that fucking tube into my mouth. I moved my head back forward and just breathed in defeat. It's real. It's very fucking real. I muttered, hoping this time they'd just kill me and get it over with.

The door opened again, and the same woman entered. She pulled out her chair and sat down across from us. She didn't plaster on a fake smile, she didn't put on that same professional act Ursula had, no, something about this one was different. She had a smudge of red lipstick on her front tooth and her hair was out of place, and to be completely fucking honest, she looked a little irritated at something. ''I'd say that I'm sorry for the restraints, but I'm not. And unlike your visit with the vampire known as Ursula, I'm going to keep this short and sweet...'' - What the fuck are you? She snapped her fingers and the door opened again, this time another woman entered and was walking straight for Peyton. This felt sketchy as fuck, which made me fucking question everything. When I'd been in this room before yeah, it felt twisted and wrong, but it didn't feel cheap like it did now. It was like Ursula was the big drug cartel, and this woman here was just some low rent ghetto distributor in contrast...

The other woman was now standing beside Peyton with a syringe in her hand, obviously waiting for something. The order? I didn't fucking know. Answer my fucking question! I spat, and she removed her glasses to wipe them with her top before rolling up her sleeves. And one thing stood out to me. She wasn't branded with that symbol like Ursula was. Like I had been. ''Mage, if that explains your restraints. I don't know how much you two know about what is coming, about what is going to happen, but I can't shake this feeling it's probably better if you don't know, and let the big kids handle it.'' She cleared her throat and nodded to the other woman before continuing to speak. I tried to listen, but my eyes were immediately drawn to Peyton as her forearm was being swabbed. ''I do not work wit-'' - What the fuck is that? What's in the syringe?!

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