Tyler Lockwood

Tyler paced the alley between the hospital and the blood bank.  He turned sharply at the end of each set of five steps.  His breathing came in fast, heavy gasps.  Suddenly, the rage welling up inside him hit a barrier, and he used all of his upper body strength to flip over one of the large plastic trash bins that was almost his size.  He yelled wordlessly and kicked it, still trying to spend some of the pure anger his body was creating too fast.

Somehow, he knew running was going to make him feel better.  His mind didn't tell him it was because he didn't have anything left to throw, or that running would burn off the energy and adrenaline pumping through his veins.  As he took off and sped up to his full potential, he just knew it would bring his anger down.

His toes barely hit the ground as he ran down the sidewalk as far as it went, then across the street and into the woods.  He didn't recognize anything he saw, but he wasn't really looking.  The only thing he saw was the pitiful expression of Sheriff Forbes as she told him his father was dead.

Mayor Lockwood was a secretive, lying, cheating, abusive scumbag... but he was also Tyler's father.  You made me feel like I couldn't do anything, he thought bitterly, his arm scratching against the rough bark of a pine as he shielded his face.  You told me I was a disappointment.  You told me I was worthless.  You hit mom, and me.  You only cared about your image.  You never cared, you never even told me...  Panting at an absolutely uncontrollable caliber, Tyler tripped on a raised tree root and fell, rolling to a stop and pulling himself up onto his hands and knees.

He couldn't pull himself the rest of the way as his panting turned into sobs.  Tears suddenly clouded his vision and slid down his cheeks.  He grabbed two fist-fulls of leaves and put his forehead down on his wrists.  Dad... you never even told me you loved me.

All of a sudden, Tyler's head snapped up.  His world was completely upside-down.  He looked to the left, and could see dozens and dozens of trees.  It was night, he shouldn't have been able to see that far, or so clear.  He looked up.  Yes, it was a full moon, but it still shouldn't have been so bright.  He got to his feet and found he suddenly had a different sense of balance.  It was easy, like his spine had a natural curve to never let him slip or make any movement that would send him in the wrong direction.

Then the pain hit.

Tyler cried out as his hands flew to his skull.  It was on fire!  There was something wrong.  There were so many sounds.  He couldn't process everything!  He could hear the tiny scurrying footsteps of a mouse twenty feet away.  He could hear an owl's feathers lightly brush the leaves several stories above.  There were hundreds of other things he could hear, but still more astonishing to him were the scents.

Ash, bile, alcohol, pine, blood, resin, countless small animals, the decaying carcass of a rabbit...  He could smell everything that was there, and plenty that had been.  He opened his eyes in shock.  Yes, this had been where the Duke party was.  But that had been months ago.  He inhaled sharply and stopped, not unable to believe what his mind was telling him.  He whirled around and came face-to-face with a squirrel, frozen on the tree trunk.  He technically wasn't right in front of it, as he was about six yards away, but he could see every detail of its raised fur, bulging eyes, and tensed claws ready to dart up the trunk as fast as possible.  What was more, he could smell its fear.

That was too much.  Tyler's eyes clamped shut and he grabbed his head, trying to will it all away.  No, thi isn't happening.  This can't be happening, he thought fiercely.  As if in defiance, everything he could hear suddenly got louder.

He growled and fell to his knees, shaking his head.  The pain in his skull intensified, burning bright and strong as if he'd poked a fire and dumped a gallon of kerosene on it.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.  Letting his breathing calm a moment before opening his eyes, he tried to assess if it had really happened.  He was on his knees, hands wrapped around his head as if it might split open.  He remembered what it had been like when he'd opened his eyes and been able to see details as if they were put under a magnifying right in front of him.  He remembered smelling the ash, and the pine, and several others.  Then he remembered the squirrel, and smelling its fear.

He opened his eyes and looked up at the tree trunk.  The moon made it just light enough that he could see there wasn't anything on the tree.  He looked to his right between two trees.  No mouse that he could see.

He put a hand up to his eyes and sat back on his heels.  It wasn't possible.  It just wasn't possible at all!  None of that could happen, it couldn't, it couldn't...

He sighed and another tear escaped his eyelid.  What on earth was happening to him?