A/N: This was something that had been in my head for awhile but I was apprehensive to post it because of critical reviewers. But I have to credit Isabelle because her submission of Soulless convinced me this was something I wanted to make, so I hope that gives you a hine (btw, its a really awesome fic.) So this combines two of my loves Chair and the monster genre (spoiler alert.) I didn't edit this very thoroughly because I just wanted to see how it was going to be received first.
Summary: He felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle and his muscles tense like they tensed for the Change. His blood sang deliciously and he knew there was only one reason it was for.
Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me and the mosterlore is something I have taken from everything (inspired mostly by Buffy, surprise, surprise) and some I have just made up to fit my needs. BTW, no matter what you think, none of this has anything to do with Twilight even if there may seem like some silimarities. Any similiarities are strongly inspired by Buffy. I am so adament about this if I hear anything of Twilight, I will not be pleased. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Also, I apologize for any hitorical anachronisms.
He always opened his eyes to find himself covered in blood. It was always the same. Teeth tore at his ribs as he cried out in pain, feeling the lacerations on his neck. It went for his jugular as his fist met fur. It gave out an enraged yelp as he rose to his feet, feeling himself start to bleed out.
It was always the same.
The full moon shone its silver beams across his rippling back as his paws beat the path, feeling his jaws begin to extend and his stomach double. Snarls ripped from the back of his throat as the wilderness flew past him.
There was always the blood. His own blood ran down his pristine shirt until his fur sprouted and animalistic lust vibrated through him.
All he could smell was blood.
Tonight the blood ran from his jaws as he howled his despair and rage.
Until he saw something.
Dark eyes penetrated his and his raging heart stopped. Eyelashes batted and suddenly the moon didn't seem like the only thing to keep him company anymore.
His heels dug into the earth when white teeth snapped at him underneath a coat of midnight black fur. He growled menacingly back.
A flash of teeth and he was bleeding again.
He was always bleeding in his dreams.
Charles Bass awoke with a start in his own bed. The brilliant moon shone over his body and he felt his blood begin to simmer.
Two days before the full moon.
For the first time since his Change, he felt different. There was always that undercurrent of resentment towards his immortality that was more giftwrapped in a box of bloody decay instead of a gift that was usually gifted in fantasy and romanticism. But to be honest, he did learn to appreciate what had happened to him. He had a family now even if it meant losing his biological mother.
He loved the feeling of ripping his clothes apart as the animal in him broke through his human form. If there was one thing he did love since his mother's untimely death, it was his new family. His blonde siblings and surrogate parents. The ones he would spend the rest of his retched existence with.
He saw the love between his siblings but that was it. He wasn't disillusioned enough to think that Lily and Bartholomew actually loved each other. They just were together for security. They all were. The pack meant safety. They were safer together.
He walked towards the mirror, beginning to button up his shirt. He paused, looking at the shadow on his ribs.
The shadow that would never heal.
He turned to greet the voice.
His family always called him that out of endearment.
"The moon is almost full," Chuck remarked to Eric.
"You had another dream?" Eric asked.
"They all seem to blend in together," Chuck said distantly, looking out the window again.
"We all have than," Eric assured him. "The night of The Change is jarring for everyone. A century hasn't changed that."
"There was something different about this one," Chuck remarked. "Something more than jarring."
"What was it?" Eric asked with intrigue.
"Eyes," Chuck said softly.
"Eyes," Eric repeated. "Your debauchedness has taken a sudden subtle approach."
"No," Chuck said. "It wasn't like that. They were dark eyes accompanied by a feeling."
"We all feel the bloodlust."
"Not that," Chuck said. "I think I would know what bloodlust was by now."
"Are you changing your cynical view on love, then?" Eric asked.
"Doubtful," Chuck scoffed. "Mating is just a myth."
"There are many who have Mated," Eric pointed out.
"Name one," Chuck scowled. "You know our parents haven't."
"It doesn't mean they can't," Eric said.
"It's just a myth," Chuck said. "Just because you feel lust doesn't mean you'll be connected by your souls for the rest of eternity."
"Serena believes in it," Eric said. "She believes that she'll meet a Were one day who will be her eternal Mate."
"Soulmates," Chuck sneered.
"So then what was the dream about?" Eric asked.
"I don't know," Chuck said in annoyance. "She was black."
"She?" Eric asked. "It was a She?"
"Does it matter?" Chuck asked.
"You tell me."
American soldiers tramped through the city. Chuck could smell it in the air. The lust for war and violence was apparent. These frail humans wouldn't know carnage if it was contained in musket balls fired into the gut.
"Charles," Lily smiled.
Chuck knew why she spoke to him like that. She knew the tragedy of his mother and she was convinced she could never fill those shoes. Chuck liked her. For all intents and purposes, she was his mother. She was the pack's Queen Bitch. And for that, she earned his respect.
"We're about to meet for breakfast."
"Do you smell that?" Chuck asked.
"War," Lily answered. "It's the same every decade."
Chuck shook off the feeling that something was oddly different this time.
Chuck entered their house to find his sister Serena, Eric, and Bart already at the table. Bart read from the newspaper with his usual stoniness.
"Glad you could join us, brother," Serena said with her usual carefree smile, straightening her corseted dress. "Rough night?"
Chuck glared at Eric who shrugged. Serena and Eric were the only ones related by blood. It made sense.
"Did you go out again?" Bart asked sternly. "You know how dangerous it is to Change before the moon turns to its final phase."
"I know the rules," Chuck said.
Changing nights close to the full moon was ostentatious. They had to travel underneath the radar. The only time they could not control the beast within was during the night before, after, and of the full moon. All of them could Change at will and enjoyed the Change. It was who they were. But poachers were everywhere. And they were actually the smart ones who considered beings like Chuck and his family a threat even though packs never intentionally targeted humans. When the beast came out, there was usually no control. They could recognize members of their pack. But sometimes the animal within just took over.
This was never a problem for Chuck. Instead of bloodlust, he vented that sort of frustration through a different sort of lust.
Bart didn't approve.
Not that Chuck could blame him. Relations were dangerous with humans. But Chuck was always careful. He couldn't afford to betray his family.
"There are no secrets between us, Charles," Bart said. "You know how dangerous keeping things from the family can be."
"It was just a dream," Chuck said.
"We all dream about the Change, Chuck," Serena said comfortingly.
"So I've heard," Chuck muttered, hating how simple it could be.
"At least you were only attacked by one," Serena said. "Being mauled by an entire pack is something entirely different."
Eric nodded in agreement.
"Maybe I'll just join the revolution," Chuck said, almost half kidding.
"You know that is not possible, Charles," Bart warned but Chuck knew. Being separated from the pack was not healthy. Not to mention that three nights a month would probably cause him to kill at least half his regime.
That didn't stop the niggling in the back of his brain that told him those weren't just any ordinary onyx eyes.
They were like his.
"You shouldn't let him get to you," Eric advised as they walked through the streets, carriages splashing through puddles and bayonets crusading past them.
"I never do," Chuck muttered as they walked over the cobblestones. "Do you remember your parents?"
"I remember Serena," Eric said. "I remember my father. He was a surgeon."
"Do you think Bart and Lily ever had any children of their own?" Chuck asked.
"I don't know. They never talk about it." Eric paused. "Do you?"
"What?" Chuck asked.
"Remember your parents?" Eric asked.
"I had a mother once," Chuck said. "But that was it."
"That wasn't your fault, Chuck," Eric said.
"Wasn't it?" Chuck asked as they crossed the street. "The night I changed... something happened that I couldn't stop."
"Do think this dream makes things different?"
Chuck stopped short on the side of the road.
"I never said anything about my dream."
"You're not the type to be retrospective."
"I guess I just..."
And everything stopped. Eric stopped short, halted by Chuck's sudden erratic motion.
He felt heat rush in his veins and the cold shadow on his ribs began to heat and throb. He put his hands to the claw mark that first marred his skin almost a century ago.
It was her eyes.
And he knew it wasn't just a dream.
The girl looked over her shoulder, her dark midnight locks shifting over them as she began crossing the street with her plump chaperon dutifully doing her job. Their eyes connected and he knew he had seen them before.
He felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle and his muscles tense like they tensed for the Change. His blood sang deliciously and he knew there was only one reason it was for.
It was for the beautiful girl with dark hair with eyes to match and porcelain skin that was illuminated by the sun. Her scent wafted towards him and he felt every part of him harden with anticipation.
And he knew.
She was one of them.
Slight recognition flickered in her own eyes before time began to run normally again.
The carriage squealed around the corner and her maid pulled her out of the street.
"Miss Blair," she chastised, Chuck's heightened hearing picked up. Blair shot a look towards him over her shoulder one last time before she disappeared around the corner.
"Blair," Chuck murmured to himself and he was sure it was the most beautiful syllable he had ever heard.
And he never thought that way.
"Chuck?" Eric asked in confusion. He looked ahead and saw the trace of a girl that he hadn't seen.
"Who's that girl?" Eric asked, having a feeling this wasn't any sort of ordinary occurrence.
"I have no idea," Chuck said in awe.
And his world was turned on its head.