The last days darkness has been my loyal acquaintance. It accompanied me regardless of where I went, since the only thing I did is to use the bathroom after drinking a few cups of water.
Not to forget of course I slept plenty...or at least I attempted to several times.
The disturbing nightmares haunted me, in particular this dark creature with the red eyes.
My dreams mainly consisted of either drowning or being hunted down and torn apart by this thing. Sometimes, if I was especially lucky, the scenes fused to one.
The scene where I had called "it" Peter never left my head. What did this mean?
This red is a constant reminder of what awful crimes I had to commit in order to gain power. They are appalling. Peter had explained to me.
Due to my fragile state, my body had been prioritizing surviving over critically analysing the situation. But how could I be this oblivious? (Or better said: Why am I so stupid in the first place?)

Dreams are the port to your unconscious thoughts and feelings. Those scenes wanted to tell me what was going on in my body. Peter was the wolfish creature trying to kill me.
But why would he do that? The gear wheels were spinning inside my brain. This has to be some kind of metaphor because else wise he would have already killed me. There had been lots of opportunities.


Murder was the act of causing death, ending a life deliberately. In the process you harmed the victim until it could not continue to live. The murderer does damage in any way. But why?
Because the person desires to destroy the other one. It automatically clicked in my mind.
Although I begged Peter to finally redeem me through death, I have never died.
He did not try to end me or my life sadistically, Peter longed to destroy my body in order to...in order to what exactly?
For the sake of pleasure? No, this was too simple. This did not suit Peter at all, he always had something up his mind before acting. He was a sly and cunning guy. The incident in the parking lot, this had not been a coincidence, maybe he did not exactly plan in advance to talk to me or anything, but the moment we had met, Peter saw something with value to him.

Ugh, my head started to hurt. Apparently, yeah my head had abandoned to think on its own completely. Reminded me of final week back in nursing school which was only like ten years ago or anything.


I was so old, damn.


So which use could a mere mortal with no exceptional talents or capabilities provide him with.
Neither did I had goddess genes which provided me with the perfect looks of a Victoria Secret Model. Seriously, what did he see in me?
Maybe I should just ask Peter, even though it was most likely he would try to avoid me like I had the pest. Since this was practically everything he had done while I was awake and hyperventilating because of the immense pain. And yeah. I was a little mad about that and a lot of more things too to be fair. For example his secrecy, he never told me anything about himself and his past. I knew he was not obligated to do so, but at least tell me about yourself before hurting and kidnapping me.


Peter had not a single time mentioned which supernatural genes ran through his veins.
The Idea of a super rare, unknown genetic defect which caused him to have occasionally red eyes like Edward Cullen crossed my mind as well. But this was too unlikely.
And the thought of him being a merman or vampire isn't?


I sighed. This was pointless, I needed further information. So I had no choice than to confront him about all of this mess even though I wanted him to talk to me first.
Apparently, it was knowledge against pride. The only thing was that the powers were not evenly balanced at all. Seriously, I had no pride whatsoever. Look at me, I was an underpaid nurse in a small village with no siblings, a dead father and a weird mother of which I had heard nothing for ages. Pride was not exactly something I identified with. I should call her, since she had some issues to deal with in Devenford. Things started to develop into a humongous mess at this point. My mum forced me to come with her to give her support and a helping hand? Why did she leave Beacon Hills a few hours after our arrival? That made no sense just like the rest of all of this.
I was so confused.


Eventually I had regained enough posture to force me to stand up and go looking for Peter. One step after the other, first I had to find out what his motivation were.
And before, I had to find him in this rather big flat. My sleeping room with a small bathroom next to it as well as the kitchen at the end of the aisle were the only places I had seen up to now.
I was about to begin my mission impossible until a single glimpse in the mirror ruined everything.
My appearance was beyond hideous. The white T-Shirt with a tremendous V-neck was covered in old blood, my whole face looked dull and old. My greasy hair looked as if a bird had decided to nest in it.

" Absolutely not", I mumbled and made a 180 turn towards the other door of the room.
I needed a shower desperately, there was still some dignity in me.

The hot water felt both like a blessing and curse. My sore muscled enjoyed the warmth, whereas my wound on the crook of my neck was anything but amused. The shower continued until I felt satisfied and strong enough to step out.

The closet in my room was full of clothing, the most things obviously belonged to Peter, even though I doubted the variety of bras and slips were not his.
" Much women visit, I suppose", I whispered slightly upset. What did I expect? He was unquestionable attractive and could be gentleman if he wanted to.
I could see why a lot of women including me were falling for him.

Nonetheless, I had no right to complain. I put a clean, fitting pair of underwear on.
Most of the bras were too big for me, only a neon yellow one with spikes as well as a classic crimson one.
I had to admit the first one was tempting, especially since I could easily provoke Peter.
Nonetheless, I decided to wear the conventional one just to be on the safe side.
Luckily, despite my height, the black shirt covered me mid-tight.
The thought of having to put on one of his jeans was a little too much for my taste, hence I was content with only one of his t-shirts on.

With new energy and confidence, I swung the door open and started looking around.