Lowell Keelin
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As he laid on his bed, his mind wandered to when he'd first realised his identity. He'd wanted to run mad. He'd wanted to punch through the walls, and let them fall on him. Death seemed like the best option, as he wasn't ready to toe the lines of his Father. It was a windy afternoon after class in high-school. He was on the roof, looking at the city it overlooked. The beautiful blue skies were getting covered by the grey coat of storm:a symbolism of what his life was at that moment.
A shade of grey and black whorls of thick air was around his destiny. He was determined by what his father had just told him the night before.
"All these stories...they are true."
Stories about werewolves, about demigods and many more... Maybe the others don't exist, but werewolves? Hell! His father is one, and he was their leader. When he was finding it hard to believe, his father had transformed in his presence, ruining his psychology forever.
Lowell now stood on the roof, in the midst of the incoming storm, not because he found out his father had a beast living inside of him, but other packs might be planning to come to the human city to attack them. It's their duty to protect them both. In other words, he has a beast growing inside him too.
He stretched forth his arms, examining the veins visible on his skin. He wondered what kind of beast lived inside him and whether he would start tearing people apart or not. In disgust, he yelled his lungs out, veins popping as though that would get the beast out of him. He scratched his skin, not minding the blood and injury he was inflicting on himself. When he couldn't take it anymore, he concluded it was best he killed himself. He would never let a beast take over him.
Letting his feet miss the steps, he fell in a whoosh, his back aiming for the ground. As he was falling, he could hear cackling and laughter. Cracks and splutter of blood; it was over. Or so he thought. As he slowly drifts off into unconsciousness, he faintly heard screaming and people running to meet him.
Moments later, he wheezed and woke up suddenly. He was back in his room and his father was standing by the doorway.
"Stay away from me!", Lowell roared, trying to get off the bed. The way he was able to swing his legs off the bed without feeling any pain was unexplainable. He paused for a while.
"You can't die easily, son." He heard his father say.
"It's a werewolf thing."
In shock, he looked up at his father, eyes widened. "Why?"
"You cannot understand anything at this point unless you're ready to. Growing up, I knew when to push past the limit and when to give it time until the last fragment of restriction fall apart." His words sounded strange, unlike the man he used to know. This wasn't a point of pushing; it was more than that.
"You don't understand how hard it has been for me. Finding out I was some freak and then realizing I can't put an end to it?" Lowell moved to the window, breathing hard. "How do I put an end to it?"
"Pardon?", his father asked.
"How the hell am I supposed to end this miserable life!?" He yelled, looking back at his father who looked away, resigned.
"You have a responsibility, Lowell. This battle isn't for us to fight but for you. All my life, I ran from my pack, hoping they never find me. Unfortunately, we may have to move, yet again as I think I can sense them around."
"I am tired, dad, aren't you tired?!" Lowell's voice was now shaky.
"Running all my life because of some people I don't even know. If you were as powerful as you claimed…", he paused, looking into the older man's eyes. "…then, why not stop running?"
"I wish I could stand my ground, son." His father walked around the bed to stand before him, eyes transforming. With each step he took, he could hear bones crackling and see his skin getting covered in furs. When he was now few inches away from his son, he paused in his tracks and everything stopped. "But I can't lift the curse on my head."
"A curse?" Lowell asked. "What did you do that warranted the curse?"
"You'll find out", he placed a hand on his shoulder, "soon."
Few months later, while they were preparing to move to Willowbrook, something had happened that night: an incident he will never forget. It was a moment that changed his life for good because it taught him to never run from his fears. A knock sounded on the door, as he zipped up the last bag that needed packing. He frowned.
They rarely get visitors, not to mention late at night. Either way, he dropped the bag and made to answer the door.
A figure which seemed to be wearing a hooded cloak that flowed behind him stood on the porch, as he opened the door. He was like a shadow silhouetted against the pillars on the dark porch.
"Who are you?". Lowell inquired, but there was silence. "Hello?" At first, he wanted to give up, and with how motionless the figure was, he wanted to conclude it was nothing more than an overhanging fabric. As he plopped his head back inside, about to close the door, it seemed hard to close.
Lowell looked down and realized a foot was standing between the door and the doorway. While he was still contemplating on what to do, the door was flung open, and about three men walked in. By their uniformed clothes, one would conclude that they were brothers.
"Hello there, Falcon." The one who seemed like the leader gave Lowell a piercing stare with his slant green eyes that seemed like they belonged to a demon.
"Er… my name is Lowell. And, what do you guys want?"
"Damn your name because we have no use for it, but we are here for Adolphus!"
Lowell didn't need anyone to tell him they were here for his father. However, he maintained eye contact and stood up tall.
"He's not he..."
"Let my son go!" A voice sounded from the landing. It took Lowell's willpower not to ram a punch through his father's nose. He could have handled it a lot better.
"Long time no see, Adolphus", the man with a pair of slant eyes turned towards the landing and the others did too. If cloning hadn't been in fictional movies, he'd have concluded the other two men were just his clones moving around with him. But with everything he'd heard and seen recently, anything is possible.
"What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?", he asked. "You know very well that there is only one reason that had kept me chasing you for over a century."
"Wait. What!?", Lowell exclaimed. How crazy can things get again?
"Leave my son and I alone, you bastard. I left your pack for you after you sent me away, and I never came back to torment you even though I had every right to do so."
"The only right you have...", he started climbing the steps. "...is the right to DIE!" Within a whoosh, he had transformed into a huge grey wolf that Lowell will never forget.
He tried to get his wolf out to help his father, but it never came out. He grunted and screamed, watching his father get scratched and torn apart.
"Run! Run, Lowell. Find the lily and break the curse. Avenge my death." These were his father's last words. He tries to battle the face of the man that killed his father. "His...his name is Carlsen."
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"...Carlsen."
Lowell said his name out loud, as he swirled the drink in his hand. For years, after he'd moved to Willowbrook like his father wanted, he'd been searching for answers, for his pack and finally, the lily. He could remember running through the woods to wolf out when he'd caught a scent. It was stronger than any other smell. When his father had said to find the lily, he'd thought he meant a flower. He stood tall, and in his wolf form, he began to sniff around the woods. He wasn't moving, but the smell was getting closer until he heard a shutter click and a bright light that could blind one's eyes.
"The lily...", he thought, and his wolf became excited at the sight of the woman holding the camera.
"It's a woman?"