Griffin
★☽★☾★☽★☾★☽★☾★☽★☾★☽
Flames danced brilliantly, stark against the midnight, star-filled sky. The screams had died down long ago, but they still resounded in the child's mind as he stood, transfixed, watching the inferno that had consumed everything he had ever known, everyone he had loved.
All that was left were ashes, rubble, and his memories.
His tears had stopped, but their tracks on his cheeks were still glittering in the firelight. His leathery wings pulsed behind him, serving no purpose and providing no comfort. Fists clenched at his sides, the boy didn't know what to do, what he could do. He was at a loss for words. His parents, his brother, gone. That was a fact, and he had little trouble accepting it.
He had nowhere to go.
He was all alone in the world, now. There was no one he could turn to, no one he could trust. The only ones he had ever trusted were dead.
The boy was so deep in thought, he didn't hear the man clad in a spotless lab coat and dark shades walk up beside him until he placed a hand on his shoulder, startling him out of his reverie with a cry.
"Don't be afraid," the man ordered gently, patting the boy's shoulder soothingly. "I won't hurt you." He was lying through his teeth, but the boy wouldn't notice. "What is your name, boy?" Swallowing his fear, the boy responded with as much confidence as he could muster.
"My name is Griffin," he answered, taking a shaky breath. He could not see it in the dim lighting, but the man's teeth flashed in a feral smile. "Who are you? What should I do?" The man tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder.
"My name isn't important, but you may call me 'Doc,'" he replied with a laugh. "I'm one of the scientists your brother has conversed with at his science fairs. Come with me. The police will be here soon. They won’t understand how you made it out without a scratch. They'll assume you started the fire. You don't want that, do you? You don’t want to be blamed for your families deaths, correct?" Griffin shook his head fiercely, his fists clenched even firmer than before. "That's what I thought. Come."
With that, the man swept his coat around, slapping the boy with the tails, but even so, Griffin automatically followed. He didn't know any better. He was so young, so inexperienced. Though he would grow up to be quite the opposite, this boy had no problem trusting others, and he was too gentle to ever put up a fight if he had his doubts. That naivety would be the cause of every problem he would ever face. But how could he know?
The years flew by in a blur. Excruciating pain, jabbing needles, malicious laughter. They were the only memories left of the four years spent in that laboratory.
Until, one day, the boy grew courageous. He broke free of his bonds and escaped, the man who had tortured him left behind. His last words would forever haunt him, even to his dying day.
"You'll regret leaving! No one will ever accept you! You're an abomination! You will never be loved! You will die alone, you beast, see if I care. Good riddance. You'll only strike terror into the hearts of others. You are a monster."
And he was right.
I was that boy. I am a monster.
★☽★☾★☽★☾★☽★☾★☽★☾★☽
I resurfaced from my thoughts, shaking my head violently. I hated that memory, and it was one of the most persistent ones. It was not descriptive, but it did not need to be. I remembered enough of the torture on my own.
The aching in my wing coaxed a groan from my lips, and I was glad I was alone. Everyone else was gathered inside the mansion, but I was not one for close quarters. I much preferred the serenity of nature over the commotion brought on by crowds.
Clenching my teeth, I cautiously outstretched my injured wing, gingerly prodding the two bloody holes and wincing as I did so. That accursed scientist had been skilled with his weapon, but that did not stop Akira from taking him down.
He had had a foul mouth, and the words he spoke had seemed to affect the werewolf severely. Even so, I would not bother her with it. It was not my business. Not yet, anyway.
I was still amazed that I had been able to fly with her hanging onto me and with holes in my wing. I had not wanted to let her fall; I would be blamed for her death for certain. Could it be more than that, though?
No, that was ridiculous. She was the leader, nothing more. An obnoxious, driven, passionate, determined leader who did nothing but get on my last nerve. I did not know what made me think otherwise.
I rose to my feet, hissing outward as I shifted my wing, and, with a split second decision, I began striding towards the first line of trees, my mind whirring.
The bullets’ damage had sparked my memories of the experiments I had endured as a child. I did not wish to remember, honestly, but, judging by the mocking words of the scientists on the plane, I figured the memories may be useful.
That was who they were, the men on the plane: scientists. They all had donned labcoats, after a deeper observation, and they all had somehow had knowledge of our abilities, just like the scientist who had kidnapped me.
As soon as I reached the security of the forest, I allowed my thoughts to flow freely, no longer having to worry about anyone interrupting or interrogating me.
Each thought that rushed through my mind was equally as disturbing as the others, and I found myself gasping for breath, forced to stop walking, and I immediately leaned against the nearest tree. I had not expected them to be so vivid.
Gunshots, whips, poison, electricity, chemical injections, starvation, stabbing, overexertion, immobilization, partial dissection, hallucinatory drugs. Those were what my memories showed me. I was appalled. How could I have survived such torture? Sure, I had wyvern blood inside of me, but that by no means made me invincible.
I felt severely ill, my stomach churning with the thoughts of my past. It had been a very long time since I had willingly witnessed those memories, so long I did not clearly remember them, and I was genuinely shaken.
With all of the information we had recently discovered, I wondered if I was not the only one to endure that type of torment. It seemed highly unlikely, but, then again, we were mythical creatures. I supposed that made anything possible.
Though, the query made me wonder why I would be the only one to remember. If the others had indeed suffered the same experiences I had, would they not recall them? Or were they simply hiding the truth from the others? I could not wrap my head around it.
Running a hand over the raised scars on my arms, imagining the needles piercing the skin and injecting unknown concoctions into my bloodstream, I began to make my way back to the mansion, not wanting to dwell on the unpleasant emotions. For once, I found I would rather face the company of the MCC, even those who irked me, than face my own mind. It was not a pleasant change.
It was already nearing midnight by the time I reached the front porch; I had ventured farther than I had originally thought. Luckily, it seemed as though everyone was already asleep; all the windows were dark and the curtains were drawn. It appeared as though I would have to sleep outside, but that was fine with me.
Sitting down quietly on the steps, I rested my head against the beam, sighing heavily and staring off into the moonlit sky. It was not the most comfortable place, but I figured I would manage.
However, a sharp rapping on the window behind me startled me, making me jump slightly as I turned around, trying to hide a grimace as my wing smacked against the beam. The sound of tumblers shifting reached my ears, and, as the door creaked open, it only mildly surprised me to see Akira’s face peeking out at me.
“You wanna come in or what?” she questioned, peering at me inquisitively. I only managed to blink, her words swimming in my mind, telling me just how exhausted I was. Her eyes flickered noticeably to my wings, but she remained silent about the holes for the time being.
“Sure,” I managed to answer in a soft voice, suddenly feeling very weak. “Thanks.” Fighting to rise to my feet, I gripped the beam momentarily, pushing myself into the building and brushing past the werewolf.
Lightheaded, I quickly made my way to the couch, dropping onto the cushion roughly. I bit my tongue immediately, shutting my eyes tightly, as my wing connected with the furniture.
“You need help with your wing?” she asked sincerely as she moved to sit beside the rose girl, Acacia if I remembered correctly. I was still having trouble with all of the names. I had not even noticed she was in the room until that moment.
“No, I’m... fine,” I struggled to speak clearly, failing miserably as I attempted to arrange myself in a more comfortable position. The two exchanged a meaningful look, Acacia mouthing something I could not decipher to Akira.
“You need help on that wing,” the werewolf insisted, her persistence beginning to get on my nerves. I managed to shake my head, refusing her help. I would heal eventually. She did not need to show pity for me.
“Fine, be frustrating,” she snapped as her gaze narrowed. She rose to her feet, fetching a glass of clear liquid, bringing it back to me and setting it down roughly before me. “I’m trying to be nice, for once, to you, alright?” Weary and uncertain of what the liquid was, I merely glanced at it before turning away.
“You really don’t like help from people, do you?” she demanded abruptly, but I refused to answer. It was not that I did not wish to; I could not force the words from my lips. She sighed, returning to her seat beside Acacia, sharing another glance. This was growing tiresome.
I closed my eyes, allowing the women to assume I had fallen asleep, and their whispers became clearer to my ears.
“Amazing how you two can fight so simply,” Acacia whispered, her expression undeterminable.
“He just...” Akira’s voice sounded frustrated as she sighed.
“Do you like him?” Acacia questioned softly. That certainly caught my attention.
“H*ll no. He’s such an a**,” Akira snapped, catching me by surprise. “Besides, he’s rude to everybody-- especially me. How can he have friends this way? I couldn’t be friends with him if I even tried.” Did I really come off that way to everyone? I had not realized. Then again, I had been trying to alienate myself since I was a child; it was a habit after so many years, a horrible habit.
“You two would make a cute couple,” Acacia insisted, making me question her sanity. Akira was obviously not interested.
“What, are you crazy? I really don’t know what you see,” Akira spat quietly, extremely defensive.
“Well, if you two didn’t fight all the time, you could end up together,” the rose girl added, her voice singsong.
“What if I did like him? What would happen then?” the werewolf asked, sounding intrigued but annoyed.
“Well, if you actually did like him and he liked you back, you could both calm each other down, maybe fight still, but not as much, and you both would be nicer people,” Acacia explained, and I nearly smiled at her logic.
“What, I can’t be nice?” Akira demanded, bristling.
“You are right now. You looked like you really wanted to help him, even though he was insisting that you didn’t.” I had not noticed that, either. I had been unable to focus on her intensity.
“It’s hard to be nice to him when he’s not even trying to respond the same way,” Akira sighed, seeming distressed. Acacia’s nearly silent gasp followed shortly after.
“You do like him!” she cried, Akira remaining blissfully silent for a few seconds too long.
“I’ve never even liked a guy before. If I did, how would I even know?”
“I don’t know. Isn’t there that whole, “trusting in your heart” thing? I’m kind of clueless too,” Acacia admitted, laughing at herself.
“I wonder... do I...” Akira whispered to herself, her voice barely registering in my ears. Silence ensued.
I could not tell if I was dismayed or glad to discover a new possibility to Akira’s true feelings. Either way, I could not do this again. It was a serious invasion of privacy, and nearly everyone in the club already hated me.
I needed to change that. Now that I knew, I could change it.
With that, I relaxed my mind, driving my conscious thoughts away, and I quickly slipped into dreams of my childhood Hell once more. The possibility of happiness was lost, and all that remained was pain and hopelessness, just as it always was.
★☽★☾★★☽★☾★
:3 I hope everyone no longer completely hates Griffin after this... He's a jerk, but he does have feelings. XD
