What Doesn't Kill You [Pathday 3]

[Every]

She waited for the sun to set before leaving The Eyrie in a light jog, avoiding trees and jumping over low branches until she entered the familiar field not too far from the giant tree house that Tytonidae were known to inhabit. She headed away from home, a nightly routine that had fallen into place as she began her evening run. She did it to escape situations that made her uncomfortable, to help her mind process other things, and to avoid things that caused her to be unhappy or allowed her to become overloaded which brought on a bitchier, hostile individual before she shut down completely for a period.

Before her turning, when she was a teenager and her brother was still alive, Every had often taken to run beside the beach in the mornings. Her mother had always said that it was one of the strongest things she had in common with her father, who had died when she was nine years old. Unlike his daughter, however, Charles had run to escape betrayal periodically. It had brought him a sense of freedom. Now that she was older, Every understood why it brought him the freedom. Under times of pressure or when things got too much for her to handle, she often dropped everything and left. Only once had she been coaxed back, and it had been by her sire.

Weeks later, she told him that she was tired of running away for good. The temporary escape, however, stopped her from cracking. As Breaking Benjamin's Had Enough played loudly through her headphones, she left Cherrydale behind each time her sneakers crunched on the grass before they met cement. Despite the lack of needing to breathe, her chest rose and fell in even breaths while she paced herself. The smell of springtime and blood filtered through her sinuses, telling her before she found herself around people she would ignore as she slipped into her own thoughts. The insecurities, empty fights and headaches vanished when she headed south.

[Every]

((Memory 1 - 30 June, 2012))

"Yeah, I'll be sure to tell her that."

She pulled the baseball cap over her eyes as the leather knapsack that once belonged to her brother slid lower against the small of her back. She readjusted it, pinning her phone between her ear and shoulder to do so. In one hand, she held a map of Harper Rock, and in the other as she grabbed it, her cell phone. Every Leighton had stepped off the transit thirty minutes ago and somehow despite the directions given to her, she had gotten lost. How was it possible to get lost, one might ask? She had put on her glasses at the last moment and had refused to ask a stranger on the street nearby. It was out of the question. As she was in a different town, in a country that was foreign to her, Every stubbornly refused to ask for help.

"I'll be easier for me to find my way if you let me get into my navigational system that is on my phone."

The man in California was scolding her, and as he exhaled heavily, she imagined the cop leaning back in his seat as he ran his hand through his blonde hair, likely shaking his head as he wondered how she was going to survive in life. A week earlier, he tried to talk her out of going to Canada. He had told her how people went missing in Harper Rock never to be heard from again. Grayson repeated himself. "I have my pepper spray in my pocket." She pointed it out, the container on her keychain feeling heavier at the mention. Her hazel eyes lifted to a street sign as he began his latest lecture about how close she'd have to get.

"I'm not entirely defenseless, you know."

After growing up with an older brother, his friends, and a little brother, preferring to play with the boys than girls her own age, she could certainly hold her own in a fight despite her size. Besides, if she didn't show up, Lia would likely raise hell until she was found. Right? "Oh, you know what. She's right here." She lied after it was suggested once more that she ask someone for help. She heard him yelling at her about not hanging up on him as she pulled it away from her ear and clicked the end button. Stuffing the device back into her pocket, she frowned as she realized that she had taken a right when she had to go left three blocks ago.

Turning down an alleyway, she tucked her hands into the pockets of her denim jacket and exhaled before she went to turn a corner. Just then, she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise and her instincts told her to run as she lifted her head to see a very tall man and another man. The smaller one went down as a scream tore past her lips before she could stop it. "****!" She thought loudly before taking off in a run without attempting to help the injured man.

She didn't bother to scream after that.

Her time was running out.

[Every]

A few months shy of her two year anniversary of becoming a vampire, the brunette often ran past the alleyway where she had initially met Micah and Levente – the latter had been turned the same day but since then, he had gone and Every remained. Her ‘twin’ of some sort, was no longer alive, not that they had gotten along. It had been meaningful to her in its own way, he had been the first person she took note of in the town and she had been the last to see him as he crossed past her cameras in the West Towers apartment they shared. Occasionally, she supposed she missed the banter but the past was the past. Her phone began to play Hinder’s All American Nightmare as she came to a stop, pushing the thoughts away at the back of her head while she waited for the light to change.

She bounced from foot to foot, pausing only to lift her left leg behind her to stretch out her calf as her hazel eyes hovered on the red hand that flashed at the crosswalk. She alternated to her right leg a moment later, lowered it and then swung her arms to cross in front of her chest a few times before exhaling in an unhappy sigh. She hated waiting sometimes. Every quietly sung along with the chorus, unzipping the hooded sweatshirt she wore and as the white walking symbol appeared, she took off once more in a run. Her headphones prevented her from hearing the gun that fired, the bullet punching through her shoulder as she hissed out in annoyance before ducking into a warehouse with her hand covering the wound.

No matter how often it happened, she had never quite gotten used to the pain that filtered through her system with each injury gained over the course of her time spent in Harper Rock. As she pulled her hand away, in the building light, she watched the inky black substance rest on the air as she shook it off before vanishing. She hadn’t gotten used to that, either.

[Every]

((Memory 2 - July 2012))

The explosion caught her off guard as she felt her body connect with the floor of the Quarantine Zone, pain shooting up along her leg and hip. The feral she had been tangling with snarled at her, Every hissing at it in return while she scooted backwards and focused, watching the shadows come to life before spearing the creature. When it was dead, she dropped back down and covered her eyes with her arm for a few moments. Her leg throbbed angrily. Opening her eyes, she sat up slightly, the denim jacket she wore hanging off her shoulders as she took in the piece of metal sticking out of her upper thigh.

“******* wonderful.”

First, some psycho chased her down upon her arrival, and then weeks later, this. “I hate this place.” She grumbled, reaching for the piece before something caught her attention. What was that black stuff on the air? Why wasn’t she bleeding? She had witnessed another vampire dying, had shot someone only to have the gun break in her hands, but they had been bleeding. The black stuff seemed to vanish slowly, as if dissolving. Her hand connected with the metal piece, Every screaming out as she immediately released it and grit her teeth as tears fell down her cheeks. It hurt and her phone wasn’t in her pocket so she could call Lia or Micah. “And say what? I have a piece of metal in my leg that won’t come out? Help me?” She thought unhappily. They were probably busy. She considered the possibility of running into someone else and asking for help.

“Not going to happen.” Her hand connected with the metal piece once more, gritting her teeth together to avoid screaming out again as she waited for the pain to pass and counted from ten. Upon reaching one, Every felt the rip and the pain intensify when she pulled the piece out. More of the black stuff splashed onto the air itself, and as her screamed bounced off of the deserted bar’s walls, it dawned on her as her eyes focused on the wound what it was – her blood was the black, inky stuff.

Dragging her bag with her, ignoring the trail of gunk that leaked onto the floor from the contents of ears and feral blood vials that had cracked with her fall, Every reached up and grasped a bar stool before dragging herself into a standing position, keeping the pressure off her leg. She made a mental note to yell at someone later, who she didn’t care, as she slumped and desperately wished that the family crypt weren’t so damn far away.

She needed a damn shower.

She missed a bottle of whiskey.

[Every]

“Hey, this is Micah’s daughter, Eve, I’m going to be running a few minutes late picking up his orders.” She reached up to turn up her Bluetooth device a bit before she buttoned the waistband of her jeans together. After her run, she had taken to the sewers under Gullsborough for a shower and change of clothes. The façade of being Micah’s adopted daughter had been the easiest persona to fall into when it came to running errands for her sire and it was something that people didn’t challenge. Her parents had died, he had taken her in, and the only remaining blood relatives she had didn’t dig into her background - Enver was the only one that knew that she was a vampire and unless he wanted to get mauled and killed again, he’d keep it to himself, right?

The man on the phone assured her that she would have no issue when it came to being late as she locked the door of her dwelling and hurried back topside where she left the rented Ford Explorer parked. “Awesome.” Twenty minutes later, she found herself standing inside the building where the ink supplier waited. His name, she had learned, was Barney and due to the purple tips in his dyed-silver hair, she often found herself thinking of the dinosaur when she was around. When they had first met, she had to bite down on her lip to avoid saying anything. “Alright, should be all there.”

Her hazel eyes swept over the boxes contents while she dug her wallet from her back pocket, pausing as she pushed her eyebrows together. “Did you not get the last order I placed of green ink?” He swore, turning to go look it as she closed her eyes and sighed. Her expression clearly read “idiot” as she could hear him ruffling through papers in the back. His heart was beating quickly, his nerves racing while she forward over the desk to collect a silver pen before removing her wallet completely. She removed her credit card, her ID card where ‘Every A. Andras’ was printed at the bottom, and glanced at the picture she had kept from when she was seven years old with a small smile playing across her lips.

She still didn’t regret changing her name, and while she still had her old passport for when she traveled leisurely, Every felt that it had been the right decision for making a new start. Last April had brought her attention to what was important to her now. When Barney came back with the green ink, she signed for everything and paid before heading out the door with the boxes in her arms and loaded up the back seat. Shutting the door, she removed her lighter and a pack of cigarettes from her bag, watching as the flame leapt higher in the evening air.

[Every]

((Memory 3 - 10 May, 2013))

There was a small explosion as she threw his cologne into the flames, her nose immediately going to her elbow as the scent washed over her, threatening to make her sick while she stood near the box of his things. Silently, she hated the wind as it changed direction as if to spite her for the decision to burn everything. Flames licked at the sky, her hair blowing to her right as she grabbed the box and scooted to the left a little bit to escape being directly in the path of the smoke.

He was gone and it was over. She was no longer his sire, he was out of her hair completely and yet… there was no sense of satisfaction. She wasn’t even upset, there was no anger nor was there sadness. Pursing her lips, Every leaned back on her Chevelle and removed a white longsleeve shirt from her box, tossing it into the flames before her arms folded in front of her chest as she listened to the crackling of the wood. “Lousy sire my ***.” She heard the bitter remark in her head, haunting her while she tossed his belongings into the fire one by one.

His books, his clothes, and everything in between. The jewelry he had given her would later be melted down; she hadn’t decided if they would become bullets or if she’d bury the blobs yet. After a few moments, she picked up the box entirely had before dropping it onto the logs and went to grab her lighter fluid. Holding onto the roof of her car with one hand, Every leaned over the driver’s seat and opened up the glove box - too lazy to walk around - and pondered as she collected her wallet followed by the fluid while flipping to her California ID card where ‘Every A. Leighton’ was visible, as well was her credit card.

She had already put in for another and a name change, using her sire’s name ‘Andras’ and looked down at the cards in thought with a quiet exhale. “I think I’ve been holding on for too long.” She murmured to herself, trying not to jump when she heard her wraith, Gideon laugh at her.

“You think?”

“Shut up.” She snapped at him before tossing the ID card into the fire, watching the plastic curl into itself and then tossed the credit card inside as well. “What are you going to do? Fake your death?” He questioned and the brunette glanced to where she guessed her wraith hovered judging by her voice. It no longer unnerved her to have him around. “Nope. New family. Same Eve, I’m just not going to bother using my biological name, not like there’s much use for it. They’re all dead anyway.” Her hazel eyes lingered on the empty spot for a moment and she squeezed more fluid on the flames, sitting down on the cold ground while she waited for the embers to begin to die.

[Every]

“I’m beginning to question how you acquire so many guns.”


The man behind the counter narrowed his eyes at her lightly as she unloaded her bag later on in the evening as she reached Bullwood, paying his words no mind while she spread out five glocks before folding her arms on the counter. “I’m wondering why you’re questioning me about what I do for a living when you’re selling assault rifles and other illegal weapons for a living.” She smiled sweetly only to earn a grunt in response. It hadn’t been the first time the two had this sort of exchange and she knew that it wouldn’t be the last while she waited for her payment. “Can I get three boxes of .44 ammo, too?” He didn’t bother looking up from his task as he reached over to set them in front of her, Every sliding over her debit card in return.

She handed over the remaining things that she intended to sell, watching his eyebrow lift before she lifted her shoulders in a shrug and removed the combat pistol from the waistband of her jeans, loaded it and tucked it back out of sight. She put the ammo into her bag, afterwards. “Thank you.” Again, another grunt was earned from her companion at the time and she watched him count out the cash before reluctantly handing it over, her debit card coming a moment later after he swiped it. Plucking her belongings from his hand, and careful to avoid touching the man, she turned and left the shop, heading north to Larch Court where she would be safe to tome back. In her bag, she could hear the clinking of a crystal paperweight hitting the copper pipe she kept with her.

Returning to The Eyrie, she headed downstairs to the ground floor and shrugged out of her jacket with a purse of her lips before dropping it and her bag, disappearing back upstairs for a few moments. In her hut, she dug through her closet and yelped as the tripwire shotgun she kept hidden fell down – she had thought it would have gone off and as she shoved that thought aside, she huffed. She really disliked firearms, no matter what she did with them. Picking up the stuffed animal that she had nicknamed ‘Derp Derp’ by one of the ears, she dropped it onto the tripwire and collected her target.

After returning to the ground floor, she stepped off to the side by the trees and set it down, returning to her bag where she left her iPad. Exhaling quietly, she rolled her shoulders lightly before pulling her pistol from the waistband of her jeans so that she’d be able to line up her shot. Thumbing off the safety, she adjusted her stance before squeezing the trigger.

[Every]

((Memory 4 – October 2013))

She sat on the roof of her hut, one leg outstretched in front of her while the other had been drawn up to her chest despite the long skirt she wore. Every kept her hazel gaze focused on nothing in particular as she considered the events that had transpired in the past few months; a fadebeast conceived that her sire removed, two sirings, relationships come and gone, and a romance ended on mutual terms. She had fought with family, had a knife stabbed in her back proverbially and once again, she found herself considering what to do. Or unlife, for those that would argue she wasn’t alive considering she had no heartbeat.

Once again, Every had found herself cornered in her apartment by a man. This time, he hadn’t wanted to kill her unlike the other, but he had pinned her down and ordered her to turn him. She hated feeling weak and he had caught her on a full moon, somehow unable to use her powers and causing her to rely on physical strength – while she was an athlete in her human life, Kirill still outweighed her easily. She had turned Aysel, another request, due to the woman being harassed by her family to return home and marry someone. Her tongue ran over her teeth behind her lips, a habit that she had picked up from a young age after spending time with her older cousins, and then exhaled.

The brunette slid down slightly on the hut roof before rolling over and folding her arms beneath her chin. In those few months, she had grown closer to some of the women in the Worthington line before giving a middle finger in leaving to other individuals. She had the Andras, she had Ty and she certainly did not need arrogant jackasses assuming they knew anything about her family. But, some of those women had not allowed her to escape that easily due to a bond they shared through the Daughters of Destiny.

“Second in Command of Crone.”

The title went through her mind as she found herself staring at the silver celtic sister’s knot pendant she had removed from her necklace earlier on in the evening and dropped on the roof top. Most of the women had left, Superbia disappearing without a word to anyone and causing chaos without allowing anyone to be able to accept new members. Without her, they had tried only to fail as things fell apart. Every hadn’t given up, but she only offered aid to those she pleased if they requested it.

“Clearly wasn’t as important to her as she thought.”

She exhaled unhappily and reached up to collect her necklace. The knot had another significance to Every before the DoD, one that tied her to her past that she had still yet to give up. However, now, she doubted she’d wear the pendant often. “Nor were her sisters.” Hazel eyes closed for a few moments as she stretched out and relaxed once more. Weary, she had grown distant to many including her own sire, her childer. Friends were far and few in between again, and she was alright with that.

Every thought about her relationship with Azariel, about the fadebeast and she felt as if the phantom claws tearing at her insides once more. She winced violently. Moodier. Bitchier. There had been other words to describe the change in personality that had come across her as she frowned and sat up, her hand automatically flying to the slight inward curve of her abdomen. It was gone and had been close to taking her sanity with it. “******* Mermaid.” She groaned under her breath.

He was gone, too. Vanished without a trace after they had split. While she held no resentment about it, that didn’t change the fact he had hid from her after saying he’d be there for her and that pissed her off. As she readjusted on the roof, she pulled both of her knees to her chest in hopes it’d ease the discomfort that she had brought upon herself mentally and shoved the negative bits away. When he was home, their relationship was one that she couldn’t complain about.

With a heavy exhale, she scooted over to the edge of her hut where the wooden walkway met her ‘porch’ and skillfully swung down. Every went inside for a moment, collecting her combat pistol and a box of ammo before she headed downstairs to the ground floor where she often fired off rounds in attempt to better herself with a firearm – Glocks were out of the question, given the last one she had used had blown up in her face after she’d shot it.

[Every]

((Memory 5 – 19 November, 2013))

“Did you know that dad had family left?”

Her voice pitched higher as she argued with her dead brother, unable to see but only hear him and it irked her to no end. She had been hearing him for months and while she still believed that he was a figment of her imagination there to **** with her, sometimes it helped. For the most part, he didn’t talk back at her when she went off in a tangent. Enver Marshall II was her cousin, well, her second cousin, and his mother, Emilee was her great aunt. The revelation still made her ill. On one hand, she had family that hadn’t disappeared in the city and one of them was a vampire. On the other hand, it was Enver.

“He mentioned an aunt a few times, Eve, why does it matter?”

She could hear the sigh in his voice, a roll of the eyes and she clenched her jaw softly.

It mattered to her because it had been a secret and a sudden change in her plans. Every liked schedules and organizations, that’s why she enjoyed planning out events and things for the family – it simply made her more comfortable in social scenes.

“At least you’ve got someone to talk to dad about other than your dead brother.”

She could hear the humor in Michael’s voice as she felt her stomach drop and she walked away from his spirit without another word, the man suddenly being heard in front of her. “Oh, come on, I wasn’t trying to upset you and you know it.”

“I’m not upset.”

The attempted to sound defiant as she straightened up in her hut and yanked off the dogtags that she had been wearing to drop them in a bowl on her bed. Since she’d begun to hear him overtime, Every had figured out that the memory – whether or not he were actually really haunting her – was stronger when she wore his dogtags.

“You are.”

She set the tags on the edge of her table and walked out, the door slamming behind her in confirmation.

[Every]

((Memory 6))

She sat on the tailgate of the Ford Escape as she picked at a freshly painted salmon colored fingernail, a nervous habit she had picked up over the years after studying profusely in Alabama. The brunette sat outside the team raid, her brown hair falling over her shoulder as she stopped picking before removing her cellphone to re-skim over the text message that Phoenix had sent her to work together in it, and she had since accepted. A few fresh bullet wounds sat in the middle of her abdomen, her jacket covering the evidence in the tee-shirt that she wore, and she looked a mess, but there was a small smile gracing her lips.

They had worked together, and they had won.

Dysprosium, she recalled, was the name that had been decided while she wasn’t paying attention. The element worked, surely. With a thoughtful expression up at the raid, she glanced at the bag while folding her arms in front of her chest. It was a team effort, but she could feel better about herself focusing on her own skill and that was why she did it – for herself. Reaching into her bag behind her, Every ignored the wince that filtered through her body as it throbbed in protest against the gunshot wounds and removed an encantado fang and looked down at the item in wonder.

The only creature she had any difficulty with – and she would admit that it kicked her ***, badly – had been that Shaman and she was okay about that matter. Dropping the fang back in her bag, Every wandered around to the front of her truck and got in, heading down to the river where she would sit and ponder as her thoughts began to cloud her mind.