Through the crisp, October air, Julius walks with light footsteps alongside Helena. The large hood of his jacket gathers on his shoulders. He’s never been one for dressing up on a night on the town; for him, a jacket, a big hood that bunches up around the neck, cargo pants, and boots was enough. For Helena, a soft blouse, figure-fitting pants, and boots with a slight heel suited her nicely for an evening out and about.
The two pace down the road, savoring the final moments of daylight they have left. Watching the neon signs of casinos and taverns flicker on, attracting the nightlife like moths, is always a beautiful sight. Julius kicks a rugged pebble down the road until it finally drifts away from him and falls into the gutter. He nudges Helena with his elbow. “As much as I enjoyed watching you get shitfaced on Saturdays, I guess it’s not so bad that you take the weekend night shifts now,” he says.
“It was one time!”
“And that one time, I literally had to carry you up the stairs to your apartment. I wish you could remember the look on your mom’s face-- it was as if she said ‘I can’t believe we’re related, but those are not my genes’ without even opening her mouth.”
“I think that’s a memory I can live without,” Helena says. Her parents were always supportive of her decisions, whether it be to shoot down rabid beasts or to, responsibly, get absolutely wasted. Very rarely does she have free time to spend on the town. There’s nothing more thrilling than sitting in the passenger seat of Julius’s car, roof rolled down, waving at the passersby and singing along to the radio. Julius isn’t one for alcohol-- watching Helena goof around on her days off, tipsy or not, is entertainment enough.
The sun’s glow drifts farther and farther below the horizon. The moonlight slowly begins to take its place in the sky. Julius fidgets with the buttons of his jacket. “Hey, Helena, can we… duck inside?” he asks. She has the tendency to lose track of time when off duty, so he’s sure it’s merely another one of those moments.
“In a bit,” she says, keeping her gaze fixed forward.
“Is everything okay?”
“It’s nothing,” she says. She stops in front of a tavern, beneath the glow of the neon signage. “I just wanted to enjoy the weather while we still have time. I’m really glad we got to do this again. Seems like our schedules hardly line up anymore, and I’m stuck napping on your couch while you meal prep.”
“Never said I had any issue with you sleeping on my couch,” Julius responds with a smile. Helena wishes he’d wipe the grin from his face. “But I agree. I think both of us owe ourselves a break every once in a while.” He lowers his voice. “But can we go inside, please?”
Helena stumbles over her words. “I need your advice.” Julius’s expression softens. Somehow, it’s even worse than the smile. “I have a friend I’m kind of in a stalemate with. A childhood friend. They’re really great, super supportive, everything-- but my parents aren’t particularly fond of them. They think this friend is a troublemaker, a bad influence, and while they sort of have a point, their opinion is pretty circumstantial.”
“Do I know this friend?”
Helena shakes her head. “The bottom line is, my parents offered me… money and a new car if I just completely cut them off. Said money and car will help me greatly-- I can finally move out, travel more, never be late to work-- it’d make my life exactly how I always dreamed of it. But getting that dream means letting that friend go. Do I take the deal?”
“Helena, I don’t really know. I think it’s up to you to determine what you value most-- your future, or this friend.”
Helena curls her palm into a fist. “If it was you, would you forgive me for wanting that dream?”
Julius furrows his brow. He twitches ever so slightly and wrings his hands. “Can we talk about this more inside, please?"
“I need to know if you’d forgive me.”
“Is this--” Julius falls silent when he hears a siren down the street. The car veers to the side, coming to a screeching halt. Three men tumble out of the back. One points his pistol at Julius, the other two grab him from behind. The sudden assault causes his eyes to widen and his canines to sharpen. The hair on his arms thickens, but the transformation comes to a brief halt-- Julius can’t let the world see him like this. “You sold me out…?”
Helena holds back her tears. She signed up for this, she knew the day was going to come-- she doesn’t owe herself the catharsis of crying. She doesn’t want to manipulate Julius into seeing the good in her right now. “I am so sorry, Julius.”
As they drag him away from the tavern, Julius spews words of hatred, fear, and even sympathy in Helena’s direction. His transformation fluctuates in his struggle to break free, but he fails. The other Sentries don’t hesitate to call him a vile beast, an horrendous werewolf, a terrible mutt, as they throw him into the back of the truck. When Helena glances through the back window for the last time, She sees snarling teeth and sorrowful eyes.
She can’t stay here anymore.
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