Rhys felt on top of the world. His date had gone amazingly, in fact they had the second one planned. And though his parents had said he couldn’t do it again, he still felt the rush he had felt in the woods with Rowena. Basically, he felt like he could do anything… and that meant something very stupid. He was going to kill the thing that had attacked him.
Once his parents had both left for work, Rhys started to get his stuff together. His crossbow and quiver, of course. If he was going to kill anything, that would be how he did it. However, he really did love the dagger. He contemplated it for a few minutes before he snuck back out to the garage and stole another.
Feeling as ready as he could, he left the house and started for the woods.
Even though Malia thought his idea was terrible, it made sense to him. If the thing had wanted to hurt him before, why wouldn’t it want to hurt him again. Walking through the woods, he stayed alert, his crossbow aimed and ready to shoot.
His heart was racing for the entire hour he wandered the woods, but it was nothing compared to what felt like it stopping when he heard rustling behind him. “Who’s there?” He called out, backing away slowly, arrow aimed at the trees.
Seeing the blue glowing eyes, he didn’t stop to think before releasing the arrow, his own eyes widening at the howl that came after. Whatever it was he had hit it. Albeit only in the arm, but he had hit it.
Immediately following the sound the same creature from last time lunged out. Stumbling backwards, Rhys fumbled for another arrow. Unable to get it, he grabbed the dagger, making a stab at the creature.
DJ was sitting on his window seat with a cigarette between his lips, pulling it away every so often to blow the smoke out his open window. He had just about finished the cigarette when he started to hear voices, but he couldn’t quite make them out. There was too many other noises getting in the way. Instinctively, he let out a scream. It was a noise he would have never guessed he was capable of making. Though it wasn’t quite as high pitched and shrill as his mother’s it was still extremely effective.
Rhys Lahey was about to die.
Jumping off the window seat, he stubbed out the cigarette and started running, straight out of his house and towards the woods. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fight, but he had to do something.