Everyone knew Belladonna. She was, terrifying, mysterious, and dangerous--much like her namesake. She was the Deadly Beauty, queen of the town underworld. Belladonna rose to power within the local mob, eventually snatching the leadership from the cold dead fingers of the previous boss. She was as lovely as she was cruel, unmerciful and bloodthirsty.

Her ruthless and unforgiving nature is why no one questioned it when another body was found on the banks of a river or strung up on display somewhere like a macabre work of art. If someone was found brutally murdered, it was only logical to assume it was Belladonna. So naturally, when she found her grandmother brutally ripped apart on the floor of her house, Rory Sorrell connected it to Belladonna Serigala.

Despite however many murders were tied to her name, no one ever dared to challenge Belladonna in court. Her reach was far, and even most of the government was under her control. To challenge her was to paint a target on your back, asking for death. Of course, that wasn’t about to stop Rory. Not by a long shot. It was with effort and unyielding drive that she finished her training in the police academy and become one of the youngest officers on the force. She was only 19 when she came home to see her grandmother’s mutilated body, a sight that burned itself into her mind and haunted her dreams.

With nothing to lose, the newly inducted Officer Sorrel set out to find indisputable evidence against the mob boss, fully intent on taking her down. She wasn’t foolish enough to preach openly of her campaign against Belladonna. After all, you could never tell where her eyes and ears were…

RORY

The sirens blared as the police cruiser tore down the street. A bar fight had been called in and much to the dismay of Rory and her partner August, they were the closest patrol. She hated breaking up bar fights between drunks; the mere thought of having to separate drunk sweaty men was unappealing in the greatest of senses. Especially for a young female cop.

They pulled up to the bar, the carnage from within already visible. Several windows were shattered and various bottles and even a few cue balls littered the ground beneath them. Loud shouts and crashing could be heard inside the building. Rory grimaced in disgust as she walked around an unconscious man, pushing the ajar door fully open to see the sight in front of her.

SEVEN MINUTES PRIOR - RAWLIN

“Hey, come here often?”

The dull thunk of the glass hitting the counter was followed by a clearly uninterested reply. “You obviously don’t. Get lost, pal.”

“Hey, just trying to be nice. Maybe start a conversation. Can I buy you a drink?”

Forest green eyes snapped to the man’s face with a calculating stare. After a moment to observe the man agitating her, Rawlin turned away, convinced that the man posed no dangerous threat.

“Yes to the drink. No to the conversation. Not my thing.” she replied without looking at the new guy.

He seemed a bit put off by her coldness, but she honestly didn’t care. If he had any idea who she was, he wouldn’t have bothered to come near her in the first place. Most sober people didn’t even come into the bar if she was there; the drunks couldn’t care less.

“I’m just trying to be nice here. No need for the attitude. Most girls would kill to be you right now. I’m Marcus. You probably have heard of me. I’m the anchor on Hughes News Station. What’s your name, sunshine?” He leaned forward, too into her space for Rawlin to be comfortable.

She gave the man a disdainful look. She wasn’t drunk enough to wipe his face into the floor yet, but she was getting there. He apparently didn’t get the hint that she wasn’t interested. Guess she’d have to make it clear. Taking her new glass, she turned to fully face him for the first time, letting him get a good glimpse of the tanned face framed by a mess of brown curls. Her green eyes were cold and slightly constricted from the drinks she’d already had.

Rawlin gave the man a once over before glancing at the drink. She took a swing, staring back at him as she did. He gave her a cocky smirk, to which she gave a small quirk of her lips. She then upturned the glass on his head.

He sputtered, angrily wiping his face and leaping from his seat as he tried to get salvage his pride. “What is wrong with you?! You’re crazy!”

Rawlin leaned back against the counter of the bar. “Not crazy pal,” came the gruff, hazy voice. She drank what was left of the glass before loudly slamming it on the counter. The bar was dead silent. “Just bad.”

She then punched him in the face, letting him fall to the ground. The bar erupted into several shouts as the newcomer’s friends charged at her, ready to take her out. This didn’t faze Rawlin in the slightest. She was one of the baddest things in this town, and no second rate news anchor was going to change the fact that she scared people.

They called her the Wolf for a reason.

RORY

Rory and August entered, ducking just in time to miss the man being thrown at them. After a glance at each other, they entered the bar. Rawlin was clearly enjoying herself as she tossed men over counters and into various objects. They obviously didn’t realize who Rawlin was or that they were honestly no match for her.

August gave an apologetic nod to the bartender as Rory sighed, walking around the unconscious bodies. As Rawlin threw the last grunt into the wall, Rory took the chance to grab her from behind and slam her into the ground. It wasn’t an easy feat, for as small as she looked, Rawlin was 150 solid pounds of muscle. She snarled, easily getting back onto her feet and headbutting Rory. It took August and his taser on high to put the woman down long enough to contain her.

They apologized to the bartender once more as they led the dazed woman out, shoving her into the back of the car. They began their drive back to the station, occasionally checking on the woman. She woke up about halfway there.

“Aw, it just had to be you two. What did I do this time?” Came the groggy complaint.

Rory was driving, but she still whipped around to glare at her. “You shut it. That’s the third time this week we’ve had to take you in for a bar fight, Serigala.” She spat out with distaste.

Rawlin, although only known for being the town drunk, was none other than twin to the feared Belladonna. It was a fact kept under wraps at the request of both siblings, although for very different reasons. Belladonna wanted no association with her sister, ashamed and disgusted by her drinking habits and unclassy mannerisms. Rawlin just wanted to be left alone to drink in peace. She only had one friend due to her behavior, a portly guy by the name of Colin, and she’d nearly burned down his house.

Rawlin made a face at Rory. “Missed you too, squirrel.” She said sarcastically.

“It’s Sorrel.” Rory spat back.

“Ain’t that what I said?”

Rory made an irritated groan before turning back around. She hated the Belladonna but at least she didn’t have to talk to her on an almost daily basis. Rawlin was in for something at least once a week it seemed like.

They pulled into the station, checking the troublemaker in before they put her into a cell practically reserved for her. Rory stared distastefully at the woman before she turned back to August, who was filling out the last of the paperwork.

“Why does this town put up with her?” She asked.

“To be fair, she had a mostly probable cause this time. Although I wouldn't want to be the one fool enough to harass her.”

“She broke two men’s noses, cracked several ribs on another, clawed another in the face, and that’s not even counting all the property damage.” Rory shot back pointedly. August just raised his hands in defeat and Rory sighed. “We can’t keep detaining her, then letting her go. It’s not right.”

“There’s not much else we can do. Chief’s afraid of Belladonna getting offended.”

She leaned in, hissing quietly. “Screw Belladonna! People are going to suspect something’s up and connect the dots. I’m sure that will make her ecstatic! She’s made it clear that she couldn’t give a care about Rawlin. We should just put her on trial and fix this problem.”

RAWLIN

Rawlin laid on her bunk, listening to the officer’s conversation. Rory wasn’t as quiet as she thought she was, in Rawlin’s humble opinion. Rory had a point though. The only reason she’d been let off so easily all the time was because of Bella. It seemed everyone was terrified of her sister...except Rory. It was almost admirable. Almost.

As admirable as courage was, Rory was beyond that. There were just some things that you had to accept as being beyond your reach and understanding. Bella was one of those things.

Rawlin rolled over, waiting for the alcohol to kick in so she could finally get some sleep. She lay there, ruminating on what the young cop had said. She hated the truth in Rory’s words. Bella hated her. If she ended up dead in a ditch somewhere, Bella wouldn’t bat an eye. She was ashamed of their relation. Even if she didn’t like her twin, that honestly hurt her to know. They were all they had in the world, and Bella had decided that she rather be alone than stay by her side.

Rawlin grunted in annoyance when she realized that she hadn’t fallen asleep yet. She’d been wasted enough that she passed out earlier, right? She dug her fingers into a crack in the wall, pulling out a flask that she’d smuggled in once. She downed the entire thing before she tucking the empty container into her jacket. She wondered if drinking this much would eventually kill her.

Soon the restless sleep consumed her.

RORY

When Rory walked into the office at 6 am, she was expecting Rawlin to still be asleep, hungover but still quiet. Instead, she was greeted by a hungover but very much awake Rawlin. She glanced over to the guard on shift.

“How long has she been up?”

“Was like this when I came in at 3.” he answered.

Rory wouldn’t care normally, but the dark bags under the woman’s eyes and the haunting stare were bothering her. She walked over to the cell, Rawlin’s eyes never leaving her.

“Serigala. I’m surprised that you aren’t passed out.”

“Rawlin.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You never use her proper name. Is it that difficult to say?” Rawlin watched her with a dark and calculating stare.

Rory was confused. “I don’t-”

“Of course, you aren’t talking to her right now. You can call me Bigby.” She said with a careless flourish of her hand.

“Alright, your name is Bigby now…”

Rawlin, or Bigby as she was now asking to be called, rolled her eyes. “Go back to your detective work, officer. It’s the only thing you’re remotely good at.”

As Rory slowly walked away, Bigby called back to her. “And if you see that witch, Belladonna, tell her that she’s a disgusting pig.”

The young officer looked back at the other with unease one last time before she returned to her desk. She sat there contemplating what she’d seen until August came in, handing her a coffee. She merely gave him a slight wave of her hand in acknowledgment as she thought about the look she’d seen in Bigby’s eyes. They were not the eyes of a sad drunk. They were the eyes of a cold and ruthless machine. The kind of eyes she’d imagined Belladonna to have.

“Hey,” August waved a hand in her face. “You alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I just...I had a weird conversation with Ser-with Rawlin.”

He gave her a look. “You sure you’re alright? You don’t usually call her by her first name.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just...she said something about not calling her by the proper name? Then she told me to call her Bigby. She didn’t even talk the same. “

“Bigby? That’s weird. Any idea why she said that?”

“None.” She muttered. “Probably just drunk ramblings or something.” She didn’t seem too confident in that answer though.

August left her to her musings and her thoughts drifted back to Bigby’s eyes. They were unsettling. The more she thought about it, the more they reminded her of her grandmother. Specifically the night she’d discovered her corpse.

She shivered in her seat, wrapping her arms around herself. It was bad enough that she already dreamed about it. She didn’t need to have a panic attack in the middle of work. Picking up the cup of coffee, she blew over the hot liquid before taking a tentative sip. Rory gave a soft sigh, sinking back into her chair. That was better.

August came back around later to check on her, dropping a file on her desk. “Here’s that file on-”

A loud explosion rocked the building. Cops scrambled about as they took cover and tried to figure out where the attack was coming from. Another loud boom sounded, this time rocking the back of the building; the containment cells.

Clambering to her feet, Rory dashed for the back, only to see a large gaping hole where the wall in Rawlin’s cell should have been. The woman in question was unconscious on the floor, dust and smoke drifting around her. Several dark-clothed figures flooded into the cell, scooping up the unconscious body.

“Hey!” Rory shouted at them, moving to open the cell and stop them. One held up a gun and started firing, causing her to duck for cover. She could only watch as they carried away the prone form of Rawlin. What could they possibly want with her?

RAWLIN

Rawlin groaned quietly as she opened her eyes, seeing only the pitch black. Where was she? What time was it? Most importantly, however, where did her flask go? She was thirsty. Rawlin squinted, trying to see through the dark when she noticed a faint whisper of light near the ground. A door. She made to stand when she realized that she couldn’t. Her arms and legs were bound to the chair below her and she grunted. She scooted around a bit, trying to wiggle out when the door opened, a light suddenly flooding the room and blinding her temporarily.

Black-clad bodies filtered in, surrounding her and making way for their boss. The sound of heels resounded through the small room. Rawlin looked up with mild surprise, although she was still wondering where her flask was. That stuff was expensive.

“Rawlin.” came the cold voice, the tone sharper than glass.

She gave an almost amused quirk of her lips. “Bella.”

A sneer. “Don’t refer to me as if I were a peasant. Or as if we were friends.” The dark eyes shimmered in the faint light. Unremorseful, uncaring, and faintly angered.

“Terrorize any children lately? I hear that a child called the cops on a poor woman because he thought it was you.”

“You, stop talking. I didn’t bring you here for idle chatter. I want to speak to Bigby.”

Rawlin’s face dropped into a small frown. Bigby? She’d only figured out about Bigby a few months ago, and she wasn’t too keen on people actively trying to bring out the alter. It was because of Bigby that people were afraid of her. He was why after all the effort she’d gone through to hide her relations to Bella, people were still afraid. Bigby had caused her to hurt people.

“Why?”

“I need the Wolf. Not the sad pathetic drunk or the goody two shoes.”

She scowled. Sad and pathetic she may be, but that didn’t mean she was going to let the other talk trash about her. “At least I’m not a control freak with a complex.”

A loud slap resounded through the room. Well, that got her. Belladonna’s eyes glinted dangerously. “If you won’t give me what I need, I suppose I’ll have to rip it out of you by force.” She motioned to her guards. “You know what to do.”

The feared mob boss turned and left the room, heavy steel door closing behind her just in time to cut off the first scream.

RORY

“August, seriously. Let’s go.”

“But...don’t they need help?” He gestured back to the other cops trying to clean up the rubble.

“They’re fine. Let’s go. Now.” She said pointedly, staring the other down.

He shrunk away, mumbling an apology as he got into the cruiser, settling in the passenger seat.

“We need to find out where and why they took Rawlin.”

“Not who?” August inquired tentatively.

“It was obviously Belladonna, August. No one else has a bunch of grunts. The problem is that she wants nothing to do with Rawlin, so why is she going after her now?”

She furrowed her brows as she drove, trying to piece it together. What did Rawlin have that the Belladonna would come after her? Why now after all this time of silence and separation? She was so deep in thought that she didn’t notice when something flew out of the woods to land on the hood of the cruiser.

They came screeching to a halt as the mass on the hood slowly rose. Rawlin rose to her full height, seemingly unfazed by hitting a moving vehicle. Light glinted off the head of the axe in her hand. Rory stared up at the other, eyes wide as they made contact with the others. Those eyes. Those weren’t Rawlin’s eyes. These were cold and dead like a shark’s, the eyes of a killer. The same eyes she saw on Bigby.

Rawlin gave a loud cry as she swung the axe down, a spider web of cracks forming on the windshield. With a shriek, Rory opened her door, tumbling out of the car.

“August! Get out!” she shouted to her petrified partner. He fumbled with the door, barely getting out of the car in time before Rawlin kicked in the windshield and swung at his head.

“Rawlin! Stop!”

Cruel eyes snapped over to the young cop, narrowing. “Not quite.” her voice came out in a harsh and raspy growl as if someone with a deeper voice was using vocal cords not meant for them.

“...Bigby?” she ventured, daring to ask. She had to duck under the incoming axe, dropping to the ground.

A small nod confirmed her question. Rawlin’s body belonged Bigby now, and he intended to use it to kill both Rory and August. “Poor little girl...dressing like a grown up and running around...trying to take on the world.”

He circled her, like a hunter cornering his prey. He bent, scooping up his axe, eyes still on the young cop. His eyes glinted with dark malice, although there was no delight to be seen from his attempt to murder them both.

“If it’s any consolation, I have no desire to kill you tonight, little one.”

He lunged, swinging the axe at her head. It whistled past as she dropped to the ground again, scrambling back towards the car. “Rawlin-Bigby, please. Don’t do this!”

“It must be done. We are not safe. You must die for that to happen.”

“What? What do you mean? Bigby, we can help you!” Rory got to her feet, keeping the other in her line of sight.

“It is not that simple little one. As much as you hope and believe, you can’t stop the Belladonna. No one can. Not you, not Rawlin, not me. It’s a cruel truth that you have to accept.”

She shook her head adamantly. “No. I can’t believe that. I refuse to. As long as there’s one person to fight back, it can be done.”

Bigby gave her an almost pitying look. “You honestly believe that, don’t you? That hope will save you?” He walked towards her, axe in hand. “The world isn’t that kind. And dreamers only get squashed out. It’s time that you accepted that.”

Rory yelped as the axe came swinging down into the car door, shattering the window glass. “I accept that you’re afraid. Afraid of a woman who can’t be bothered to stand for her actions.” As Bigby raised the axe again, she charged, body slamming into the other and knocking the weapon away. “She murdered my grandmother. And I’m going to make sure she sees repercussions for that and everything else she’s done to this town.”

Bigby’s brows furrowed slightly. “She didn’t...oh.” The emotion bled out of his face as he stayed rooted. “You thought it was Belladonna this whole time?” His face twisted in concentration as he thought about this.

Rory stared at him warily. “What are you rambling about, Bigby?”

Cold green eyes locked with her hazel ones. “Belladonna didn’t kill your grandmother.”

“Maybe not directly, but I know she was responsible. She ordered it.”

A pitying and almost remorseful look crossed his face. “I honestly wish I could tell you that was true, but she didn’t. Not for fun or otherwise.”

“What are you saying?” she asked in a faint voice. Of course it was Belladonna. Who else would do that to her? Why would anyone rip her apart like that?

“No. Your grandmother was never meant to be killed. She wasn’t a target.” Bigby watched her carefully.

“So, what are you saying?” she asked desperately. “She was collateral damage or something?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

BIGBY

With a grunt, Bigby stood. The duo shifted, preparing to either run or attack.

“That’s close enough, Bigby.”

“Relax, I wasn’t going to do anything.”

Rory picked up the axe, holding it in front of her. “Yeah? Then stay there and start talking. What do you know about my grandmother’s death?”

Bigby sighed, almost regretful but more exasperated than anything. “Once upon a time, I worked for Belladonna. She threatened Rawlin’s safety, so I took over. She gave me a target and I was sent to take them out. After the deed was done, I realized my mistake. It was the wrong house.” he was blunt and seemed almost unfeeling.

The sound of metal striking the ground rang out into the night as Rory dropped to her knees, axe clattering on the asphalt.

“N-no...you...you were…?”

“I killed her,” he confirmed.

Her hand trembled and tears streamed from her eyes. “No, no, how could you?!” she screamed at him. “You took her from me! My family!” she lunged at the other, forgetting that Bigby was called the Wolf for a reason.

He didn’t do anything as she pounded on his chest, shouting and crying. He eventually wrapped his arms around her, sinking down to his knees, holding her sobbing form.

“Why…why her?” she sniffed, miserable.

“...I’m sorry.”

He held her until she stopped crying, helping the red-faced and puffy-eyed girl back up. August came up to her, embracing her and murmuring softly to her.

Bigby watched from a distance. He really hadn’t meant to kill an innocent person. If he’d just killed the right one, maybe Rory wouldn’t suffer the way she did. But Belladonna was bad for Rawlin, and he had to do what he had to in order to keep her away. No matter the cost.

Suddenly, a loud gunshot rang out and pain exploded in Bigby’s shoulder. He gave an agonized cry, clutching the shoulder. The sound of heels could faintly be heard in the distance. With a hiss and grimace, Bigby looked over his shoulder, as did Rory and August. It was Belladonna, handgun pointed at the three of them as she approached.

“Of course you would fail something as simple as this.” she sounded unsurprised.

Bigby gave her a scornful smile. “Yes, you seem so worked up about it.”

“You were always a disappointment. Rawlin was a sad pathetic drunk, but people knew not to expect anything from her. I would have hoped that you learned from your last failure, but I can see that was too much to ask for.”

“Guess life is full of disappointments.” He replied, staring her dead in the eyes.

RORY

Rory cut in. “Put the gun down, Serigala! You’re under arrest!” She shouted at the woman.

She gave a soft scoff. “Oh? What are you going to do, slap my wrist? You can’t do anything. I’m doing you a service by getting rid of this scum.” The gun turned to aim at Bigby’s head.

Bigby stared down at the ground, breathing slowly as if trying to keep his nerves in check. His hands twitched a little and he visibly flinched when the weapon touched his head.

“Belladonna, let him go.”

“Or what, little cop? You’re a child. What do you know about anything?” She sneered slightly at the other. “Who are you to decide the morals of the world? What gives anyone the right to preach what’s right and wrong?”

Rory slowly walked forwards. “Let Bigby go.”

Belladonna scoffed quietly. “Pathetic.”

She suddenly cried out in pain as Bigby kicked her knees out. A loud bang went off as the woman fell, Bigby descending on her with the intent to take her out of commission. She punched the other in the face and he fell to the ground. She picked up the gun again, about to shoot him when Rory shouted, swinging the axe at her head. Her eyes widened slightly as she dodged the wild swipe of the blade.

Belladonna turned the barrel to the other woman, finger closing on the trigger as Bigby lept on her back. The bullet shot way above Rory, but she still ducked down. Grip tightening on the axe, she ran at the fighting siblings, swinging it and nailing Belladonna in the shoulder.

She made a startled and somewhat pained noise, dropping to her knees from the force. Bigby took the chance to pin her to the ground, knocking the gun away. His chest heaved. “Bella, please. Don’t do this. Think of Rawlin. She needs you. You need her.”

Belladonna gave a scoff. “Why should I care about a washed-up has-been? The only reason I haven’t killed her off is because of you, Wolf. You have your uses.”

Bigby seethed. “You’re disgusting. Do you enjoy using people like this?”

“Does it matter?” She asked coldly.

Bigby seethed at the woman. “Give me the axe, Rory. I need to end this before she hurts anyone else.”

“What? Bigby, no. She needs to be brought to trial.” Rory defended.

He snapped his head to look at her. “Rory, the whole government is corrupt! Do you really believe anything is going to happen? The most they’d do is tell her not to do it.”

“Bigby, it’s the right thing to do. We can’t lower ourselves to her level.”

“Maybe you can’t, but I’m already there.” He reached for the axe when the glint of light on metal caught his eye. “Look out!”

Bigby shoved Rory out of the way as he pushed Belladonna’s gun off target. A loud crack split the air as the gun was fired before it fell to the ground.

Drove by fear, Rory’s body moved on its own. She didn’t realize she was swinging the axe until it buried itself into Belladonna’s neck. The mafia boss’s eyes widened in shock, a shaky hand coming up to her neck. She only made it halfway before her body collapsed, dark blood beginning to pool under her. She made several choked noises before the only semblance of life drained from her eyes.

There was a thump of a body behind her, causing Rory and August to turn and see Bigby sprawled on the ground. He gave a wet cough, blood splattering on his hand and shirt.

“Ah, damn,” he said hoarsely. His skin was pale, his body trembling as it bled out.

The officers rushed over to her, Rory supporting her head while August tried to stop the bleeding.

“Bigby, talk to me. What happened?” Rory asked, voice shaking.

“She finally got me...the crazy bitch got me. She shot me...” he said weakly, giving a laugh that dissolved into ugly hacking.

“Rory, I don’t know what to do.” August cried frantically. “Do I hold her still? What?!”

“Keep your hands on her wound, we have to stop the blood flow.”

Rory struggled to keep Bigby from moving while August pressed down on the wound, hands quickly staining with blood.

Rory’s breath hitched in her throat. This couldn’t be happening again. Just when she’d thought that she would finally recover, it was all being ripped from her again. “Bigby-Rawlin, please, come on. Stay with us. Please-”

A soft and raspy chuckle left the drunkard’s lips. “Aw...I knew you cared.” He murmured with a soft smile uncharacteristic of him. Rawlin.

“You’re so...stupid! Why would you take a bullet for me?” Tears began to stream down the young cop’s face, her body beginning to tremble as she tried to keep it together.

Urgently, August cut in. “Rory, she’s losing blood too fast. She’s not going to make it at this rate.”

Rory nodded in understanding, preparing to move Rawlin. “You grab her feet, I’ll get her torso-” A blood covered hand stopped her.

“D-don’t bother…’s too late for me now…”

“Rawlin, don’t say that. We can still save you-”

“Squirrel...s’okay...better this way…”

“No! It’s not! You can’t die! Not like this! What-what happened to drinking yourself under the table and living to 100?” she cried desperately.

--------

Rawlin gave a sad chuckle, once again descending into a coughing fit. “Was never...going to make it that long...least this way...’m not just...another drunk in the ditch…” she murmured.

Her vision felt splotchy, spots dancing across her eyes. Rory’s voice sounded faint in her ears as she blinked, struggling to keep her eyes open. A hand tightly gripped hers as sensation began to drain away with the world.

“Hey...Squirrel?”

Rory sniffed, clutching the other’s hand. “Yeah?”

“Keep being a good person...town needs you…”

“We need you too…” she tried to protest.

Rawlin chuckled softly. “No, they don’t...m’ damaged. Better without the reminders…”

August sat off to the side, shaking a little. Despite his best efforts, there was really nothing that he could do about the wound. He stared down at his hands in horror. “This is my fault,” He muttered. “Because I’m so useless…”

“August, no. It’s not your fault!” Rory tried to reassure him.

“She got me good, kid...couldn't do anything anyway…” Rawlin murmured to him. She pat his hand the best she could from where she was.

Coughing, the last of the Serigala siblings lay her head on Rory’s lap. She sighed tiredly, eyes half-lidded as she stared up at the clouded sky. She felt exhausted, limbs heavy like cement and mind hazy.

Rory’s voice was faint in her ears as she begged her to stay awake. “Rawlin, please. You can’t just die-you’re the Wolf!”

“Bigby was a murder, Rory...I’m a murderer...nothing you do can change that. You should be glad…”

Truthfully, she should be thankful. Her grandmother’s killer was bleeding to death in a dirty alleyway, just as she deserved. Yet Rory wasn’t happy. There was no satisfaction. The sight only succeeded in reminding her of the sight of her only family being torn apart. Her hands trembled as the memories resurfaced. The ripped up cushions, feathers scattered across the floor, staining pink and red with blood. The shattered china and stench of death… Was it even really Rawlin she was holding?

A gentle hand on her cheek startled her out of the oncoming visions. She looked down to see a barely conscious but concerned Rawlin. “Squirrel…?” She murmured.

“Y-yeah?” she asked shakily.

“Are you...alright…?”

She gave a choked sob. “Don’t ask me that...not when you’re like that.”

Rawlin gave her as much of a smile as she could. “Stay... with me, Squirrel?” She asked quietly.

“Yeah...I will…”

Rory held the dying woman in her arms, watching the gradual slowing of the rise and fall of her chest. Her eyes slowly dimmed, until all signs of life were gone. Her blood was a sticky puddle around them, seeping into Rory’s pants as she kneeled with the woman in her arms.

The Wolf was dead.

EPILOGUE

Following the deaths of the Serigala siblings, the town hierarchy had fallen apart, leaving Rory and August to try and repair what they could. As time went on, the town slowly began to heal and the people stopped hiding in the night.

They grew bolder, eventually speaking out and coming together to rebuild their town into something new. Something better. A hope for the future.

Rory would not be quick to forget what happened that night, but she worked to make sure that it didn’t become something that haunted her, like her grandmother’s death had. And to any who would lend an ear, she told the story of the Wolf and the Belladonna.

- END-