The Fugitive

In the space of a few seconds, a person's life can change forever. New life is given, and it is taken away.

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Her bare feet squelched into the muddy earth; her hands spread out, feeling the long wiry grass. Her silky white nightgown clung to her body, drenched from the rain that washed away the blood flowing down her arms, dripping to the earth, and trailing behind her. The strong winds bellowed against her, a warning not to take another step as the storm above her raged on. She wanted to scream and curse at the sky with it, but something inside of her had snapped; her body was numb to feeling anything, including the small voice in her head urging her not to do it.

The girl stopped at the edge of the cliff and closed her eyes. She welcomed the shiver down her spine and the water spraying against her skin. The dark strands of her hair clung to her face, covering her ears, drowning out the sounds of the waves crashing against the rocks below.

For something that would hurt for only a minute would put her out of a lifetime of unrelenting fear and agony. All it would take to end it all.. was one step, and she would be free. She opened her eyes and watched ahead of her as she took that step and plummeted towards death's embrace.

Esme gasped and jolted awake, licking her lips subconsciously as though she could still taste the salty seawater. But the tell-tale signs of her dream melted away as she became more aware of her surroundings the longer she stared up at the darkened ceiling. Her body was alert and ready to bolt at any second; her heart pounded against her chest in anticipation, with strands of her dark hair clinging to her clammy face. She glanced at her tattered curtained windows and then to the back and front doors, inhaling deeply to calm her racing heart.

She stilled, pausing the slow rise and fall of her chest and listened carefully to her surroundings. But there were no sounds. There was nothing but silence. That silence engulfed her as it always did, but she welcomed it with open arms. Silence meant she was safe; silence meant there was no 'boogeyman' waiting to snatch her up.

Esme released her breath from where she held it and sat upright from the mattress left on the cold wooden floor. "I think it's time," she muttered as calmly to herself as possible while raking her fingers through her thick hair, pulling the strands away from her face. The she-wolf glanced down at her sweat coated pyjama top and sighed.

"I was starting to like this place," Isana, her wolf, added tiredly, her voice echoing in her mind. Isana was also unnerved by the memory Esme dreamt and added to the rising anxiety tying knots in her stomach and tightening her chest.

Some would find it odd to have a voice in the back of their head, but this was the norm to werewolves. Esme's wolf came through when she was sixteen, meaning her transition into a werewolf was complete. Her senses were heightened, strength and speed increased immensely, she could heal herself though not as rapidly as the vampires, and she could shift into a wolf from that day onwards. Esme and Isana could feel each other's emotions, hear their thoughts, and speak to one another.

They had been through a lot together; the past was painful not only to Esme but her wolf too. If it wasn't for her wolf, Esme was unsure if she could have coped as well as she has.

"We were never staying," Esme muttered and reached for the elastic band on her wrist, pulling it back and letting it ping back into place. And like a spell that was suddenly broken, she snapped out of her daze and darkening thoughts. She drew the thin blanket away from herself and jumped up from the ground.

Isana didn't respond, letting the silence speak louder than any words she would give. Esme ignored the sadness swelling inside them and set herself into action. She walked towards her wardrobe, swinging the door open that snapped off the hinges, forgetting that one door should never be used and the other she was usually very gentle with lest it comes off too.

Ignoring the fallen door, Esme reached for her backpack and dropped it on the mattress before stripping and changing into black cargo trousers, trainers and a long-sleeved blacktop. She then pulled her charger out from her phone and away from the plug socket next to the mattress. She flipped open the old phone and checked the time before stashing the phone in her pocket and the charger in the bag.

Esme's gaze darted across the tiny studio apartment, taking note of the tenth place she had lived in. It was nothing special, just as shitty as the last place. Esme returned to her backpack, checking the contents of her whole life, all neatly folded together. Everything was in its place, including the photo of a young girl with dark almond-shaped eyes, dark brown hair and caramel skin holding onto a young lady with the same features, her smile dazzling to the eyes. Esme and her mother when she was six years old.

Esme's eyes swept past it quickly before her mind spiralled into those dark memories. She reached further into her bag until she grabbed onto the strap at the bottom and pulled back a hidden section revealing a few rows of rolled-up money, kept together neatly using elastic bands.

Esme pulled a few notes out before zipping up the bag and throwing it over her shoulder, leaving the key and an envelope of money on the small kitchenette counter as she opened and closed the door to place number ten. Her gaze swept across the concrete hallway and balcony overlooking the parking lot; the dull lights along the walls flickered, barely staying on. But Esme's gaze lingered on the alleyway to her left, escape route number two.

A flash of movement caught her attention, and she became increasingly aware of what time of the night it was.

"Was that my imagination?" Esme whispered to the wolf inside her mind as she started to rush across the floor, her eyes flicking back to the same area. Her dream was making her paranoid; she knew it, she must have seen shadows from the street light-

"No, someone was there," Her wolf growled in response. At her words, Esme fled down the stairs, and before she made it to the electric gates, she threw a small letter into the landlord's metal letterbox in the side building before pressing the button to escape the caged metal gate. She decided on escape route three, through the front of the apartment complex. She threw her backpack on her back and braced herself.

As soon as her feet stepped outside the apartment complex, Esme sprinted down the road and in the direction of the train station. She used her knowledge of the streets to her advantage and sharply turned right, then left and another few more turns in the darkened alleys. Esme couldn't hear anyone following her, but she wouldn't relax until she was at her next destination.

After some time, she made it out onto the main road; the streets were quiet and bare. She continued to scurry forwards, glancing over her shoulders while keeping her footsteps silent. That was until her feet splashed through a puddle. She halted and cursed under her breath. Esme didn't wait to see the result of such a noise and sprinted forwards, giving up on sneaking away.

She heard her pursuer quickly catching up now, four legs quicker than two, but the fear and adrenaline pushed her forwards. She could see the train station ahead of her, lit up like a damn Christmas tree, the light at the end of the tunnel, as it were.

She heard a growl and a bark from behind her, revealing her pursuers frustration. Even though it was the early hours of the morning, there were still humans about in the small town she had been residing in. They had to retreat and find cover or reveal themselves to the humans of what they were. Esme grinned as she slowed down, her trainers now squeaking across the bare concourse. She was in luck; there were two trains ready to leave the station.

Esme looked behind her again and saw the glowing pair of amber eyes in the distance and heard the low sounds of a snarl. They took a fat risk, chasing her in their shifted forms in the streets. But being in public didn't mean she was safe either; she didn't fancy sitting back and acting as bait. She had no idea where the hell the train was going, but it didn't matter, as long as it was away from the beast behind her.

A whistle was blown, alerting Esme to the departure of one of the trains. She swiftly hopped over the gates and ran towards the first doors of the carriage, making it just in time as the doors beeped and closed behind her. She spun around and relaxed her tense body after watching the station blur by as the train picked up its speed. Even though she was heading away from the small town, she was still wary, her survival instincts on constantly.

Esme leaned her hip against the side of the wall in front of the train doors, her arms folded against her chest as she watched her surroundings diligently. The town lights glowed into the distance, and the scenery of brickwork, billboards and streetlamps flew by, gradually growing into the grassy fields. After some time, her gaze landed on the wolves pursuing the train, their attempts futile even for them. Four of them were sent this time, each tall and imposing, muscular, and the best trackers of the pack they came from.

They found her after only being there for a few weeks. They were either already hot on her tail, or she was becoming too fricken sloppy from the tiring chase.

"You've never been sloppy. They must have picked up on our scent from the town before this one. We did hitchhike from there after all," Isana added to her thoughts.

"I didn't think they would search vampire populated areas, though," She muttered, displeased by the trackers finding her in an area she never believed they'd check. Vampires and werewolves steered clear of each other; otherwise, fights and even wars broke out. So far, they had been at peace with one another, but that didn't stop the occasional wolf or vampire from going 'missing'. Rogues, in particular, were attacked more often due to not having a pack and being the weakest out of the species.

"Those towns weren't highly populated with bloodsuckers, though; there were a few other rogues there as well," Isana replied, trying to comfort Esme from the turn of events. She nodded and started to head down the aisle of seats until she was at the far end of the train and hid inside the toilet.

It seemed her paranoia was called for. A shiver ran down her spine as she realised if she didn't wake up from her nightmare, then her morning would be heading in an entirely different direction, one she hoped to never return to.

"Looks like we'll need to change a few times," Esme whispered in her mind as she tried to distract herself from the awful smell of the toilet and from her spiralling thoughts. She pulled a map out of her bag and looked at the possibilities; her eyes scanned past the cross marks from where she lived before and looked at the red dots of vampire territories she marked.

The next couple of days would be long and exhausting, but it was either this or get caught and taken back to a fate worse than death. This time, she was going to flee even further away. Leaving the sunny south for the chilly north, she didn't mind one bit. A change of scenery was exactly what she needed; the further away from them and him, the better.

Esme ended up changing trains six times, the first two times to draw her enemies away and returning on the exact same route before changing directions and hopping on a different train. Two bus rides and another train journey later, and she arrived in the city of Chester the following evening.

The she-wolf stepped out from the train station, zipping up her black rain jacket and placing her hood over her head. Signs of fatigue showed on her face, the gaunt look with dark circles around her tired eyes from lack of sleep and bracing herself for attacks. She stood there, for a moment taking in the sight of the bright lights, flashy cars and how lively the streets were, even at 11pm. This was indeed a city, a vampire one at that. It was quite the sight, its buildings sleek and tall, the pavements clean with not even gum stuck on the ground.

It was impressive, but Esme was not fazed by its beauty and grandness. It was all superficial; she knew from experience that not everything was as perfect as it seemed. Where there was the pretty and wealthy side of a city, there were also the slums that nobody cared about. Usually, she would head there straight away after scouting out her new location, but she was too tired and wanted to hit the hay.

Esme started trudging forwards. Though her mind and body were tired, she was still as alert as she could be. Her movements were quick to any sudden sound or activity, which was frequent as the she-wolf walked down the busy street. After some time of passing by the snazzy 5-star hotels, she threw away her dignity and asked a receptionist in one for the name of any local hostels. The lady looked at her blankly before taking in Esme's appearance with a look of disdain and replied, "This is Chester, ma'am." As if that sentence alone would explain everything.

Esme raised a brow at her response and turned around, walking back out through the swinging doors and started searching for a park.

"Looks like we're camping under the stars tonight, Is."