"Rowan, is that true?" I asked cautiously. "What you just said..."
"Yes. It's true." There were no inflections in his voice. "The rumours are true as well."
"But I don't understand! I know I shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but you don't look like a violent person."
"I'm not ... most of the time at least."
"Rowan, I saw you covered in blood yesterday." He turned his widened eyes to me, tension covering his face. "Seeing all that, I should've believed the rumour more than anyone else. But I didn't want to. Despite all I saw, I refused because the simple idea seemed ridiculous. To be honest with you, this is a bit too much, but I need to understand. If you want us to be friends, I will need you to trust me and explain. So, do you trust me, Rowan?"
"I trust you, but..." I watched him struggle to decide. It was clear that whatever he had to say would not be easy. I was about to back off when he looked around, then dragged me into a hidden corner.
"What I'm about to tell you now, you can't tell anyone else. The situation is bad as it is anyway." He told me in a low voice, his arms on each side of my head; firmly pressed against the wall.
"I won't say a word, I promise." I was as honest as I could be.
He took a deep breath, and in a low voice, he told me everything.
"I was ten years old when it happened. I had already been living in the jungle for about two years by that point. The guardian my father hired left to find food, and I stayed behind, alone, in the camp to light up the fire. I didn't hear it when it came closer. Behind me ... a leopard saw me as his dinner. I noticed too late. His claws were digging deep into my back, cutting my skin. All I remember is that I saw blood, and then my mind went blank. I woke up much later and wondered how I was still alive.
At first, I thought Noah was the one who saved me, so I got up to look for him to check if he was hurt, but Noah was nowhere to be found. When I looked at my hands, I saw that they were covered in blood, and so were my clothes, but it wasn't all mine. I looked around me, and I saw it lying there, lifeless ... with its throat ripped apart.
The leopard that attacked me was dead. I was the one who killed it, and I couldn't remember a thing.
Do you see this fang that I wear around my neck? It belonged to the leopard. I wear it, so I will never forget that I have become an animal, a monster, a beast that I'm afraid of. I'm afraid that one day I might hurt someone important to me, or even worse." A sigh escaped among the words, and the sadness on his face was heartbreaking; so intense that it could make even angels cry. He closed his eyes for a short while, then continued. "Then I started to change physically as well – nothing significant, but changes, nonetheless. All the doctors we visited said it was perfectly reasonable because my body was adapting to the environment I was living in. My canines grew a bit longer than average, and my hearing and smell became more developed compared to ordinary humans. Noah also told me that what happened with the leopard is called survival instinct, but I have my own doubts about it."
"Sorry," I said, raising my hand to stop him, and touching his chest softly. "I know I'm the one who asked for all this, but you completely lost me. I don't understand, what is this "blank" thing, or survival instinct, or however you call it."
"I don't know if this will make any more sense compared with what I said so far, but I remember something an old shaman told me. By his words, trapped inside me is the soul of a powerful warrior. He told me that my only options are either to fight him for as long as I live, or to accept him as a part of me and learn to use his strength and knowledge. I'm not sure what to make of it, but whatever it is, it's strong. A violent someone who comes out when I'm in real danger and saves my skin, but at the price of hurting others."
I was struck. This was the kind of thing you read in a novel, not something someone tells in your face. My eyes fell on his 'reminder' while my mind was struggling to process. That explained somehow what he was doing that night in the park and why he was full of blood, but mainly why he didn't remember that we'd met or that he had helped my cat before she fell into the lake.
"I'm not sure what to say. It's a lot to take in."
"Rayna, now that you know, you don't have to force yourself to stay around me. But please, for the love of everything, don't say a word about it." he pleaded defeated.
"Look, I'm not going to pretend I understood everything you just said, but I am not going anywhere. You are not a bad person, no matter what anyone says. So how about you stop talking this nonsense about forcing myself to be around you. That's what friends do: stay by each other's side. I'm here, and I'm staying. Come, let's go get out things."
There was a limit to how long we could linger around. We had to return to the classroom to get our bags, but on the way back, I figured it was a good chance for me to try to find out more, so I asked.
"So, this Noah guy you mentioned is your guardian?"
"Yeah," he answered absently, walking two steps behind me.
"And what is he like, as a person, I mean?"
"Well ... he's intelligent, and resourceful. As a kid, I used to think he was an undercover hero, or something. He taught me almost everything I know. I think you would like him."
"Maybe. Who knows?" I replied, smiling.
He continued to tell me about Noah until we got to the stairs. Before we reached the first floor, George came out in front of us. Besides being one of the best students in the year, he was also very popular. I guess, as the son of the Chief of Police he had a reputation to maintain, but still, I couldn't help but wonder if his glasses had anything to do with his popularity. They were completing his detective-to-be image perfectly.
"George, something happened? You look strange." I asked a bit worried.
"You can't come in the classroom. It's not safe!" George said very slowly. "Those thugs who escaped yesterday came after Rowan."
"What! No, it can't be. We need to let someone know, but I doubt there is anyone here anymore," I could feel my heart sink.
"Follow me! I know a safe place."
We followed George up to the rooftop, and I was wondering how they had found out where Rowan was studying, but considering what happened with Brice and the others, maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised. It was okay though; very few people knew the way to the roof.
"We'll be safe here ..." he turned to us with a stony expression and a fake smile that didn't match his previous words. "...or maybe not. If you were a little smarter, maybe you would have picked it up... oh, well..."
At that point, one thug snuck up behind Rowan and struck him with a metal bar, sending him crashing to the floor. I tried to run to him, but it was impossible for me to move. Two strong arms gripped and pinned me in place.
"What's going on, George? What the fuck you think you're doing?" I shouted.
"What do you mean? I locked the door so no one could bother us."
"That's not what I meant."
It was official he was starting to step on my nerves.
"I don't have to give you any explanation, but I will say this: these guys are dealing with thievery, drugs, and lots of other stuff about which I don't want to know. I accidentally pass them information from the police network, and they accidentally pass me money. It's good to have friends in all layers of society."
I looked horrified at Rowan. For a second, I thought he was dead, but he slowly lifted himself to his knees with no one taking notice. He brought his hand to his head, which must have been spinning from the blow, and when he pulled it back, his expression changed almost instantly.
His hand was full of blood.
"Run!" I yelled, terrified.
"Shouldn't you have said that before we caught you?" the one who held me mocked me, smirking.
"I was talking about you! Run!" The desperation in my voice was clear, but it was too late.
Rowan, who looked as if he wasn't breathing, stood in the middle of the group, with his head bent, emanating a devastating energy. All those around him were looking at him puzzled, not knowing how to react. He waited rock-still. One thug dashed at him, but from a single blow he fell down unconscious. Looking at their knocked-out friend, then back to Rowan who reverted to his initial position they ganged up on him with everything they had in hand, metal bars, baseball bats, even pocket knives. But trying to put him down proved to be impossible because comparing to him, they looked like small children swinging sticks at the air. He glided elegantly between their hits, turning their power against them, knocking them out with a single unrestrained blow. The thugs were falling one by one under his merciless hits. He was fighting for his life, and he was too fast to be hit. The one who held me became scared and ran to the door, but he didn't notice Rowan was closer than he thought. With a groan, he fell to the floor before he could even touch the door with only one finger.
Just George and I were left standing. Whatever reason I had left in me, it told me to run away and not look back, but I didn't. I didn't move, I didn't even flinch when Rowan stopped in front of me and looked into my eyes. His eyes looked empty, devoid of any expression. I couldn't feel any hostility directed at me, but then he went after George.
"No! Stay away from me!" he cried in despair, but Rowan didn't seem to hear him.
He put him down as if he was nothing more than an old pillow. His canines, slowly and dangerously getting closer to his neck as if he was enjoying the moment to come.
He had his throat ripped apart.
The memory of his words pulsed through my veins and without another thought, I jumped on his back. I had no idea what I was doing, but I couldn't let it happen. I put my arm between his teeth and George's neck, who was petrified and covered his eyes with my other hand. His body was so tense I could barely feel his breath. His canines pierced through my skin, pain invading my arm all the way up to my shoulder, but I tried to keep my calm.
"Rowan... everything is fine, you can stop now ..."
Damn it, it hurts! I thought, biting my lower lip.
"It's alright, Rowan... it's over now. Everything will be fine." I was saying it as if he were a small child.
While I tried to calm Rowan down, George left, unsteady on his feet, wiping off his cold sweat and tears.
Still holding him from behind, I felt how slowly, gradually, the grip of his teeth grew weaker until it became non-existent. Now, on my bleeding arm, was the soft touch of his big hands. He was breathing normally now, but tears were flowing down his cheeks, and his body was trembling violently. My arm stopped bleeding, but he still didn't let go. He opened his mouth, and a faint sound came out between his tears.
"Forgive me ..."