CURSED - Chapter Two

A/N:
As I mentioned before. It pains me more than it does you to write such negative story regarding the occult. And regarding the last chapter. I DID WARN YOU IT WAS DARK! You continued to read at your own risk. And here again it is...

***WARNING***

Its Dark...And not meant for lighthearted individuals. More than rated MA...

As a matter of fact, I think it should not be viewed unless you have a very tough stomach. Think of Hostel...The human centerpede...n movies like that...if you have seen those and been alright with it, you are just as sick as me and should be alright to go on. If you are not, you have been warned.


DISCLAIMER:

Some research has been done, but most is just Hollywood flare. Recognizable character and situations belong to respective creators. I claim to own only the original work enlaced with the borrowed material. If you claim something belongs to you, contact me personally and credit will be announced accordingly. If your work was posted after this has been published, too bad so sad.

As usual, Reviews are not just accepted, they are encouraged. I would love to know you feel about my piece. Constructive criticism preferred.

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Chapter two:
Your pain, my pain
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He couldn't watch her leave.

His anger didn't allow him to stay in this form for long. While loosing himself in the other form he unwillingly gave up all privacy of his inner thoughts, it made it easier to deal with his innability to cope.

His brothers knew better than to berate or banter, rather they sympathized and pitied him for his misfortune, phasing out and allowing him the so searched for solitude he desperately needed. There was no need to continue patrols, The Cullen female had left.

After endless hours of running himself ragged, he falls to the wet ground exhausted...panting shallow breaths....whining, begging for his mind to settle down and let him ascent into a dreamless sleep.

His brothers and friends find him and beg him to return home. They tell him that his father is sick with worry and wont eat until he does.

Jacob relents to their pleas, if only to keep the only person in his life that cares for him outside of the pack. He finds that no matter in which form he is still too exhausted to move. His best friends decide to help carry him, sharing his dead weight after a distance. He can barely keep his eyes open as Quil places him on Embry's back and is too far gone to realize when they begin moving. His mind fades slowly.

Jacob never registered when they stopped and switched mules to keep their trek down the forest.

He was awaken by a sharp stabbing pain on his torso, making him wince and escape the hold his brother had on him, falling to the floor yelling in pain. His alarm brothers are shocked to to discover a puncture the size of pencil on his side as he bleeds. The wound begins to heal shortly after, but the question still remains.

What-ta hell just happened?

“Lets get you home so we can figure out this shit.” Quil said. Jake nodded reaching up as his friends pull him up unceremoniously. They are about a half an hours time from the treaty line and then its just a few minutes till they arrive at the little red cabin.

They transform and they begin to weave through the trees, confused as to what just happened but silent. No one wants to disturb his distraction and mention the reason for his departure.

He fumbles in pain moments later and phases back to human holding his arm, as the red blood percolates through his fingers. His pack mates, face back astonished, reeling in fear os to what could be happening to their brother.

Embry pulls on his cut offs and helps a still bleeding Jake into his, then pulls on him to stand.

They watch in morbid fascination as another wound opens down his side, the pain bringing him down to his knees and screaming once again.

Quil tried to get away stumbling over his own feet in fear of the ghostly horror he is witnessing, and yells, “Fuck this! I'm calling Sam!”.

And phases not caring that his shorts end up as confetti and howls the alarm.

Immediately as Sam and the others phase he bombards them with images and his confusion and fear over the situation. Sam calls all hands on board to help bring their haunted brother home, and barks orders to prepare arrangements, “Seth! Call The elders to wait for us at Billy's! And tell Sue to bring anything and everything she has for medical attention! Leah, bring my truck to the Black's! We might need it to transport Jake.”

They watched, through Quil's eyes in horror, as more and more wounds made tracks over his smooth skin, bathing him in his own blood, useless to stop the cause for his torment.

When they arrived at the gory scene, they didn't loose time. Side by side, they picked up their fallen comrade and tried not to jostle him as they carried him home, but had a hard time keeping him steady as more absent devices cut into him making him squirm in pain.

At the Chief's house, the silence was broken only by his pleas for solace and screams in pain, the sheets and mattress long ruined with the continuous, unexplained spill of his blood. The Elders researched in the old journals for any sort of information that could possibly justify this punishment, while the women moved tirelessly back and forth, with the help of the pack, between bringing buckets of hot boiled water and towels to clean him and applying sterile gauze and tape to hold the opening wounds.

Billy swept the olf relics from the table as his son screamed once again asking to be forgiven for whatever he had done to anger the spirits.

Nothing.

There was nothing.

“I'm sorry, old friend. I wish there was more we could do.” Old Quil said with suffering along with his friend, feeling just as futile.

“Oh god! Somethings happening! SAM!!” Emily screamed terrified. They all trampled one over the other only to watch as Jake was now bowed in pain a silent scream suck in his throat, his fists white and trembling while he tried to survive the torture he was enduring.

“Stop...Pl- Please....st-” He whispered but them bowed further off the bed with a jolt, in another silent scream.

“GRRAAAHHHH! JAKE! JAKE! WHAT DO I DO?!!” Sam begged yelling at his brother, feeling utterly useless....falling to his knees on his bedside, in sobs as Emily wrapped her hands around his head tightly.

“Bella...” HE whispered once more and his body became limp ob the bed. They were all silent, waiting for any sign that it was over...that their brother would be okay.

Like a heartbeat, but...

Nothing.

“Jake?” Embry was the first to break the intense silence, “Jacob?” they he walked closer, ignoring the whimpering gasps as the others noticed nothing happened, “No...no, no, no...NOOOOO! JAKE!!” He ran to the bed and shook the body. Only to be pulled to a tight hug by his other friend, who tried to reason with him, “He's gone, Embry.”

Embry fought to return to his brother, not believing the rash reality, “He can't be! NOOO! JAAAKE! PLEASE!”

After a moment of mourning and watching, unbelieving of what had just happened, Sam, Jared and Paul excused themselves and went into the forest, only to return carrying a robust tree that had been uprooted for the purpose of building a canoe for their brother's last voyage, as per tradition.

“NO!” Billy said powerfully as he noticed from the back porch, what the boys were trying to do.

“Billy...” Sam began but chocked on his own words. He wanted to be useful, do something to keep him strong, but he wouldn't be able to keep the front for much longer.

“No...my son...”Billy said with a wavering tone. His tears streamed silently for his son.

The elders and the pack grieved next to him while waiting for the women to go inside and finally wrap his heirs body. Before he followed then he turned to his fellow Elders and voices his wishes, his voice strong despite the emotional turmoil he was in.

“He will be buried in the island.” he sat defiant, daring anyone to tell him otherwise. All in his bloodline were Chiefs. His son was the last one.

After a moment of silence, he turned around to roll his chair inside. He was vigilantly standing by as his son's body was prepared for a funeral fit for a Chief the rest of the evening.