xxiv. Hellish Surprises Abound

Hell was an apt description of what this was.

For Hoya anyway, as time seemed to slow and he was met not with the jaws of a wolf but with a triumphant smile of straight, human teeth belonging to a certain younger werewolf, this was hell. This, as he went falling back out of surprise, a now clad in absolutely nothing Sungjong straddling him.

Straddling him as he placed a single hand to his throat and another to Hoya’s chest, having the strength and the opportunity to, if he wanted to, deal a damaging blow to the older wolf’s ribcage.

Hoya was out by this surprise attack on Sungjong’s part.

But, it wasn’t the first surprise. The first surprise came seconds earlier. And before even that, Hoya had no idea what was in store for him.

Both Sungjong and Jaehyo attacked him head on, almost as calculatedly as Jaehyo had done earlier with Sungyeol. Almost. And for this reason, for the reason that Sungjong’s moves were nowhere near as in sync with Jaehyo as Sungyeol’s were, Hoya found it easy to deal with the two at the same time.

He found it easy and was simply waiting for his stamina to beat out their own. He was simply waiting for them to tire of being on the offensive so that with a single strike, he would end their bout.

Unfortunately, this is where Jaehyo’s plan had come into play. His ploy that Sungjong didn’t think would work and honestly was a bit reluctant to try out. Why wouldn’t he be reluctant about transforming back into his human form and taking on Hoya, in the snow he would add, ? Sure, the cold breeze wouldn’t bother his naturally insulated body, but he would be . The thought of that word alone was enough to make him question this whole plan that Jaehyo explained to him by merely saying, “I transform, you transform.”

It was enough then to gain an utterance of the words, “I hate you,” that he so often heard Sungyeol say to Jaehyo. Sungjong only now understood, just a little, Sungyeol’s frustration towards Jaehyo.

Jaehyo cared not for his embarrassment. Jaehyo had no sense of shame. No inhibitions.

And as Sungjong then attempted to charge at Hoya in his werewolf form, only to be knocked back with the simplest of means, the sound of ripping skin and cracking bones echoed through the air for a single second before Jaehyo in full fledged wolf form went leaping over the momentarily dazed Sungjong. That’s the first surprise Hoya experienced. He wasn’t expecting Jaehyo to transform so haphazardly and so suddenly. Still, he was able to strike down the pouncing, foxlike werewolf.

As Hoya recovered from his first surprise, he experienced his second in the form of Sungjong.

Sungjong, who after doing exactly what Jaehyo’s plans had entailed, succeeded in eliminating Hoya via straddling him in the with a single hand to the Powerhouse’s throat. And afterward, as soon as he saw the look of recognition of what had occurred pass by Hoya’s eyes, he jumped off. He sprang away and bustled over to the nearest tree, limping with his broken and healing leg the whole way, in order to hide his now exposed body.

“I hate you.” He said again, directed towards the now much too exhausted to care, not that he would under normal circumstances, reddish furred Jaehyo. He coat even looked like that of a fox’s. And at the current point in time, the thought of hunting down foxes in particular on the next hunting day in the forest for both packs crossed Sungjong’s mind.

Hoya picked himself up slowly, the pain of the long and exhausting fight he had put his body through hitting him all at once. He had been put through the ringer with the ever-tenacious Jaehyo. Jaehyo, whose wit worked the second time around with this final plan of his. “Looks like the second time is the charm in this case, huh?” Hoya questioned Jaehyo’s wolf form that was lying down in the snow, coffee brown eyes still alert despite it all.

And as he stared at Jaehyo, he saw something. He saw a slight diversion of the witty werewolf’s eyes to the left, towards a pile of blue and black. Hoya nodded, understanding the gesture easily, “Jaehyo says you should use his clothes.”

Sungjong stayed silent, only his head peaking from behind the shelter of the tree trunk. He contemplated it. He tried wrapping his mind around the idea. But then, he tried to come up with any excuse he could not to use Jaehyo’s clothes. Jaehyo was too tall. A lie. Jaehyo didn’t bathe often. A lie. He didn’t need them anyway. A lie.

“Fine.” He resigned to the idea, his embarrassment trumping his preference to not wear another person’s clothes, “But,” he paused, his voice squeaking as he protested against one thing and one thing only, “I’m not wearing his boxers.”

Hoya laughed, though the vibrations the action sent through his body caused him to silent them almost immediately. He looked to Jaehyo, who he had fought for so long now. For over an hour. Jaehyo, the object of Sungyeol’s past, misplaced hatred. Hatred that had changed during the duration of this training exercise. Jaehyo, who he could imagine had only been as persistent in their fight as he was so that he could go back home to Sungyeol with the privilege of boasting that he had done it. That he had fought and won against Hoya.

Like a husband going home to boast about a promotion he had received at work to his wife.

The thought almost had Hoya laughing again, if not for the clenching of his stomach which stopped him. The adrenaline was leaving him fast; a good night’s sleep all he wanted now. Yet, his mind still worked. He could still read exactly what Jaehyo was saying now through the shift of his eyes.

And at this point, he didn’t care if it hurt to laugh because what he interpreted just now from Jaehyo’s gleaming eyes was too funny not to at least chuckle at.

“Who said anything about wearing his underwear? Go commando.”

And just like that, an exhausted and defeated Hoya along with an even more fatigued duo of werewolf Jaehyo and now clothed, yet commando, Sungjong, were eliminated from the training exercise as per Zico’s prior hypothesis.

Just as he moved out of the range of Myungsoo’s fist, effectively dodging it’s fury, he looked over his shoulder to find you. You, coming up behind him. That’s what he had to be wary of the most now that he was by himself. That move you did on Dongwoo earlier was worrying. Every time Myungsoo would come at him, a tingling sensation would surge through him. He would feel a shiver run up his spine as he could practically feel your legs hooking around his waist, even though you were nowhere near close enough to do so each time he looked back. Any other time, he’d find you willingly jumping on his back a welcomed gesture.

Now, however, it could mean the end of him in this training exercise.

Technically, he was stronger than Myungsoo. He could out punch him any day. This was the reason he was the one who prevailed when the two went head to head in the Containment Zone, purging themselves of all of their frustrations and ill feelings towards each other.

Technically, he had the advantage against an untransformed Myungsoo and the human that was you.

Technically.

But, you were a box of surprises.

A bottomless box of surprises that just kept on giving.

What could he expect from you? How was he supposed to expect anything when the possibilities of what you could come up with to use against him were endless? His only option was to wait to be amazed, in such a situation as this.

Again, while he liked to be amazed by you on any other occasion, now wasn’t the most opportune time for him.

He was backed into a corner as he was pounded by the brute force of Myungsoo’s uppercut to his abdomen. He would be feeling that once the adrenaline wore off, of that he was sure. And that hit was his moment of weakness, as his proceeding punch at Myungsoo missed and he forgot. He forgot to check over his shoulder for your whereabouts.

And the result was a whisper he would have loved to hear at a later date. A whisper coupled with the covering of his eyes by two soft hands. Ten slender fingers.

“Guess who?”

He spun around in your hold, expecting to see you there, smiling smugly at him in a way that should have annoyed him. That should have, even though it never did. But, instead, he was met with heavy-lidded, deep, black eyes.

You had had Myungsoo take your position in the amount of time it took Woohyun to turn. The speed with which they could move never did cease to amaze you. And it didn't cease to amaze Woohyun either, apparently. 

“Surprise.” Myungsoo sang before his hands reached up so quickly they were but a blur as they gripped onto Woohyun’s neck before turning it, gently and delicately.

Woohyun was out.

He was out but he had taken someone along with him.

Myungsoo had left himself exposed for the sake of “surprising” Woohyun. It was an opening that Woohyun used as he slammed his own hand down onto Myungsoo’s chest, over his heart. The bones would have broken. His heart would have been pierced. It may have very well meant eventual death. And, it was a restrained hit Woohyun delivered just a millisecond after Myungsoo delivered Woohyun’s own demise via the snapping of his neck.

So now, Myungsoo was out as well.

So now, it was only you.

It was only you that remained. The rest of Zico’s Red Team was decimated. Not a single sound produced by anyone on Sunggyu’s Blue Team echoed through the forest. 

“So,” you drew out that single syllable, trying to make sure that this was happening. Trying to make sure that this time, your team had won. There was no last minute win to be had by the other side. This was it.

Wasn’t it?

Considering the amount of loss you’d have felt had you been left to think you had indeed won, you figured you should thank him later. You figured you should thank B-bomb for pouncing on you then, a sharp set of jaws all that was in your vision not even a second after you heard the sound of crunching leaves and moving tree branches above.

Again.

Again, he had done this.

Again, he had come up from behind and changed the end result completely.

And he didn’t need to be in his human form for you to hear it. For you to hear his voice echo through your head as you recalled the way he so blatantly said it that chilly fall season so long ago, locking eyes with his narrowed, glowing bronze own.

“We win.” 

And because he hadn’t been able to say it then, he made sure to do so as soon as everyone gathered together in the living room of Sunggyu’s grandfather’s home afterwards.

It’s not hard to figure out exactly who he had sent into a rage with that single statement.

So, the Blue Team had won the training exercise.

But, hadn’t the Red Team won so much more?

The werewolves weren’t coming to school today. That’s the gist of the text message you received from Sungjong, whose new cell number you acquired last Saturday, early this morning. They were off to face the hunters, apparently. Sungjong didn’t have to explain it to you for you to know. Why else would you all have been training together over a week ago? Why else would Zico put Sungjong, Kyung, Jaehyo, and Sungyeol all on his team? Though you discovered the reason for this only during the training exercise itself, it all made sense. And why you weren’t fighting alongside them now made sense as well. You wouldn’t complain about being treated like a damsel in distress and you wouldn’t attempt to join in the fighting anyway.

Sunggyu and Zico had already included you in the training exercise. Which meant they saw the value of you becoming more proficient at defending yourself. The key phrase here being “defending yourself.” If you were to find yourself in a pinch, you would work your way out of it. If, for whatever reason, the hunters decided to come after you, no matter how illogical that seemed, your first line of defense would not be a girly scream.

It would be a scream from hell as you fought back with all your might.

For now, however, no screaming was needed. There was no reason to fight against anything or anyone. The werewolves would fight the hunters and you would stay out of it, end of story. You would thus walk into this building that now stood in front of you and the werewolves would have no idea about it, end of story.

What building would this be?

Springfield’s town library.

You had a feeling he would be here, the person you came to see. It had been a long while since you last saw him but you simply knew he would be. Call it a gut feeling. Call it a brief, impulsive feeling. Call it whatever, because it was right.

Because there he was, his head of gray, feather-like hair jutting out this way and that. Narrow eyes like that of an Egyptian cat lingering on the empty space in front of him. Almost fuchsia colored lips parted as though ready and waiting to reply to anything and everything.

And as you got closer, those eyes of his lifted. A crooked smile splayed itself across his face. Like he knew. Like he knew you would come back.

“Good morning.” He greeted with that voice that commanded any and all attention, as though it were the most natural thing to do in the world.

“Good morning,” you returned the sentiment as you sat down into the seat diagonal from him, the same space he was staring at moments before. Before he could even begin to cockily prance around the question of why you came, you answered the unspoken query, “I came to see you, Cha Hakyeon.”

His name sounded twisted when it left your lips. Convoluted, even, as it attempted to fit the folds of his own mysterious, enigmatic nature. And it fit perfectly. It fit so perfectly to his image, cladding him so easily, that any other title would seem to distort his already disjointed visage.

“Did you now?” He leaned forward, almost seeming to revel in the fact that you had come to him of your own accord. That he had ensnared you without having to lift a single finger. “I’m a lucky man then.”

Luck? That’s unlikely. A calculated plan of action in order to initiate a sequence of events he wanted to occur? Much more believable.

“You remind me of someone I know,” you revealed, gaining exactly what you thought you would gain – a sudden failing of all pretenses coupled with a pointedly sullen expression. His form was slowly congealing to the top of the pitch black liquid he had submerged himself in. And you figured it out, you figured him out, then and there, as it was clearer than a neon sign or a walking billboard could ever hope to be. “You’re like the night sky devoid of its stars. Pollutants stain you so that all you are is a sea of black in the sky.”

“How poetic.” He balked, his weathered front returning with renewed perseverance.

You weren’t quite there yet.

Even though you now knew who he was at the most basic of levels, you still didn’t know the specifics. The details of the events that lead him to where he now sat. Though most of all, the intentions he had as he sat there.

So, you decided to let him capture you. You decided to become his prisoner, incapable of getting away as soon as you next words left your lips. And the possibility of never being able to escape was but a mere afterthought.

“My name is Song Hyunjoo.”

The sunlight that shone through the high windows seemed to dance across his eyes in a spirited fashion. This was what he had been waiting for. With this, it had started.

“Though, I think you knew that already.”

He response to your insinuation was but a mere laugh. A mere laugh as he stood up from the old wooden table in the town’s library, having no need to sit there any longer. Not when he knew that with a single word, you would follow him wherever it was he was going. But, just to be certain, he decided to test his theory.

“Well then, Song Hyunjoo,” his own voice called your name for the first time, adding to it something different. Something explosive. Like vitriol to a chemical reaction, he made the mere utterance of your name a dangerous matter. He rounded the table, a single index finger sliding against the surface, “To even the score, why don’t I let you know a bit more about me?”

And his theory was right.

Just like the werewolves, you wouldn’t be going to school today.

She heaved a sigh, kicking her feet back and forth in the air as her back laid on the cushions of the velvet colored sofa. Her fiery orange colored bangs splayed across her forehead as she arched her back, stretching her body. She wanted to defiantly storm out of the house and kill something. In particular, a werewolf, if only she could. It had been ages since she last saw one at the end of the barrels of her shotgun, her weapon of choice, quivering, begging for its life, before she pulled the trigger and sent two shells into its chest. She didn’t exactly like aiming for the head. These were not zombies they, the hunters, were dealing with. Who wants brains splattered all of their clothes? No one.

Besides, aiming for the chest always left its pretty face in tact. The beautiful, handsome facade it wore. The one that deceived so well before merciless claws would go ripping through your torso. 

It was a monster, the species that was the werewolf.

This was the reason their work was supported. This was the reason they had such extensive backing. Them and the leagues of those like them that scoured over different, far reaching countries.

Should the death of a monster not be celebrated? Should it not be a cause worth supporting? Why feel bad about taking the life of a monster? Why feel anything but excitement?

She extended her legs high above her, ceasing their movement, as she spread her toes. Every fiber of her being was ready to fight them. She didn’t want to wait any longer. “Can’t they just come to us? Then those dogs on their high horses wouldn’t be able to protest to us defending ourselves.” She jeered at the thought of them scurrying back and forth in a panic after the news of the deaths of the two “heirs” and the “heiress,” as Hyosung liked to call them, reached them. “It was self-defense, don’t you know?” She practiced, pouting her lips as she whimpered.

She groaned again, bending her knees and lowering her legs as she tilted her head to the left, gazing on at the bottle of wine on the coffee table. Should she pop it open early today? It was still morning but what else could she look forward to?

As though he had read her mind, as though he knew she wanted something, quite possibly anything, to come in and distract her from her bored state, the phone rang. The house phone rang. She bounded from the couch, thin, toned legs fluidly sashaying across the wooden surface of the floor. Within seconds, she was in the foyer, holding the phone to her ear as she purred, “Good morning.” She didn’t need to look at the caller I.D. Many people above them knew their number, but only two would ever call. She had only hoped it was the more playful type of the two who had.

Unfortunately, luck was not on her side, as she heard an impassive voice echo from the transceiver at her ear, “Put Hyosung on the phone, please.” It seemed he was just as unenthusiastic as she was that she was the one ended up picking up his call.

Though that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to have just a bit of fun after going through the trouble of leaving her oh-so-comfortable position on the couch.

“Please? Do you really dislike me that much?”

“It’s not a matter of dislike. It’s a matter of who I’d rather deal with.” He answered her question in his usual tone. Except, he seemed a bit more calm than usual. Whenever he talked to her, his voice always had a hitch in it. A slight tilt that always told her he was agitated with her. The King of Brooding, that’s what she called him. And the King on this particular morning seemed more urgent that angry.

The King knew something she didn’t.

And she was looking to figure out what it was, if only the very person he was looking to speak to hadn’t entered the foyer just then.

“Sunhwa, who’s on the phone?” Hyosung sauntered over, peering down at the caller I.D. as though she didn’t already know who it was that Sunhwa was speaking to in the manner that she was. “How fun.” She purred upon seeing the number that reflected back at her. She extended her open palm to Sunhwa as the light that shone above them danced across her eyes.

Right, how could Sunhwa forget?

The one of two who called was not Sunhwa’s favorite but it was undoubtedly Hyosung’s.

Sunhwa gave up the phone willingly before resigning to having that bottle of wine after all, her boredom hitting her as soon as she entered the living room once more.

“Soryong, how’s it hanging?” Hyosung joked. It was a joke whose meaning only meant something to Soryong, who immediately recalled the day more than a year ago in which those same words fit the situation she had put him in much more aptly.

He wasn’t amused by it, however, and his tone remained the same as when he was speaking to Sunhwa just earlier, “I have news from a recent conference held earlier today in Russia.”

Hyosung parted her lips, the mere mention of said country telling her what he would say before he even said it, “Your love’s old man worked his magic then, I assume?”

He didn’t respond to her provocation, as much as she would have liked him to, “The terms regarding the original three have been extended. You’re not to harm a single one of them.” He sounded as though he was a referee waving a yellow card in her face. Beneath his words was a warning. A victorious sounding warning. The scale had tipped in his side’s favor just this once and he didn’t even attempt to hide his satisfaction that it did.

“Well, aren’t you happy?” Hyosung laughed, all too obviously sarcastic-like. “And though the term “restrictions” isn’t one I like to hear, hearing that you’re happy makes me equally so.”

“Now is not the time for jokes.” He snarled immediately in response. She wasn’t taking him seriously. Something she did on almost every occasion in which he spoke to her.

Hyosung hummed in question, “What? I’m not joking.” She reached up, twirling a strand of her hair in between her fingers as her teeth sank into her bottom lip, “I’ve got a not-so-little crush on you, you know?”

There was silence on the other side then.

She heard only the faint sound of fabric rubbing against fabric. He was standing up? He was sitting up? Whatever he was doing, he seemed to be straightening up. And that just made her want to try to bend him until he broke all the more.

However, with a tone akin to the fangs of a snake, he burst her bubble. He popped her words with a pin needle.

“I’m flattered, but I’m not interested in dying on the first date. So thanks, but no thanks.”

“You’re no fun.” Hyosung complained, her voice raspy with last night’s sleep. It made her complaint sound much more provocative than she had intended. Or perhaps she had intended just that?

“Fun for you is Wolfsbane coated shark-toothed knives, dagger-like high heels, and a bullet in my skull.”

“I’ve got two bullets with your name on them. Two. I’m sure they’d love to take refuge in that brilliant mind of yours.” She mused, her heart pounding in her chest at the thought of making such a thing reality; no matter how much of a waste of a pretty face it was. To Hyosung, and she was sure Sunhwa would agree, it was a waste giving it to a werewolf in the first place. 

“Again, I’d have to decline your kind offer, no matter how tempting it sounds.” Soryong spoke in reply, looking to end the conversation before more of this danger-laced flirting continued, “Though I do hope you resist your own temptations as well. You are not supported in any actions you take against them now.”

“For now.” Hyosung corrected, knowing full well the power could shift at the drop of a hat. Most literally at the drop of a single, older man’s hat. She could hear his intake of breath on the other side of the line and decided she’d give him what he called for in the first place – her word that she would follow this newest decree that came from those higher than Soryong and herself. “Alright, I understand. Continue on your merry way and we’ll continue on ours. Neither the heirs, the heiress, nor their friends shall die by our hands. If they come to us though, we will resort to injury in order to defend ourselves. I’m sure you understand.”

“I do.”

She smiled, nodding her head, “Well then, goodbye Soryong.”

The doorbell rang, prompting a less than sober Sunhwa to traipse over to the door, her drunken dance much more elegant than her sober one could ever be. She didn’t bother looking through the peephole to see exactly who it was that rang the doorbell this Monday morning. Though she should have.

Then, she would have seen it coming, the appearance of a blonde haired, plump lipped, eagle eyed, used-to-be hunter named Woo Jiho.

“Surprise.” He greeted, a smile so large it practically spread from ear to ear.

And before Hyosung could hang up, she heard Soryong’s voice echo through the phone words that were quite ironic considering the events that were occurring right at that very moment, “Though you should know that looking for trouble and having trouble arrive on your doorstep are two different things.”

And what followed was the shrill scream of a fiery haired hunter.

A/N:

I was just a few minutes late with this. And, I named this chapter. I think I'll go back and name them all. Actually, I don't just think. I will.

Fun fact #1: I had a dream about this fanfic last night. I dreamt that I posted it without even finishing the opening scenes (in which the Blue Team wins), and without editing it in the least. I did it on accident and promptly freaked because I didn't realize I posted it so there were grammar errors galore, sentence structure problems splattered everywhere, and a bunch of "BLAH" written in it. (Literally, when I can't think of how to describe something, I come back to it later. But, for that moment in time while I'm writing it and can't think of anything, I write BLAH to fill the space.)

Fun fact #2: I recently watched Infinite's Be Mine MV again and I was reminded once more that I think, after watching that video the first time and after watching it again now, Sunggyu was and is super hot. The hottest. Those neck tattoos? Someone shoot be before I fall into a state of groans and moans over how much I adore them. And his hair? And his jumpsuit? Oh, don't even get me started. Those tattoos are like barcode imprints, don't you think? I can imagine them lighting up when he wakes up, like starting up a computer. Infinite android fanfic anyone? That would be super fun. Why am I telling you this? I just needed to get it off my chest so there. There it is. Enjoy. 

Oh! And also, I like this chapter. The end. 

Sunggyu so hot I could flip a desk. 

If I didn't have such puny muscles.