It's X meets Y this week; and Chuck has us using a d20 generator or just picking out what we'd like to use... me? I picked out two I thought would mix well: Inception and Teen Wolf.
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Cold night air.
My senses reeling.
The moon… oh my god…
that moon which fuels my energies!
Wait!... what’s
that?
A heart beating not
too far away – two blocks maybe? Three? Who cares – I’m after it!
Ears back, tail
twitching… I don’t see or know anything else but this next delicious morsel –
and all I need from them is… oh there they are!
Yes, run you bipod…
I’ll catch you in one, two… three leaps!
‘Good
morning, San Fransisco! And what a beautiful morning it would be if we didn’t
have to report another murder in our parks district late last night!’ the radio woke me from a deep slumber but I
didn’t miss that report from him.
Murder, what murder?
Pulling back the
covers, I find I’m naked – again!
How does this keep
on happening? I go to bed dressed and wake up in my birthday suit! Seriously, I
just don’t want to know. And so, I get ready for school.
For a good part of
the day, I just can’t keep my eyes open, every perfume anyone is wearing drives
me nuts (and I start sneezing) and I feel as though everyone is staring at me
for some unknown reason.
I feel like I’m
losing my mind – but I’m not sure why.
In the beginning of the
lunch hour, I head off to the toilets to see if anything shows that I’ve missed
anything. Looking in the mirror, I see
my hair is okay, my hormones are playing up with my skin (what’s new?) and my
make-up is as good as it’s ever going to look. I just feel so … so… charged.
Something is wrong
with me, but I’m not sure what.
The rest of the day
passes and I keep to myself; which the teachers find weird, as they try to call
on me unsuccessfully. They catch me staring out the window or my eyes are glued
to my pen – looking as though I’m really not interested in anything.
I am.
I’m wondering why I was so interested in everything only two days ago, and now I’m not interested in anything at all.
I don’t look different – but I feel different.
I walk the seven kilometers
home from school, vouching to miss the bus because the stench of them all makes
me want to puke.
Mum makes a roast
and I go back for thirds – something my Dad just can’t believe because he
struggles through his second-helpings. I
also devour dessert as though it’s nothing, whereas he skipped it and had a cup
of tea.
They’re wondering
what’s wrong with me; watching me carefully as I head up to bed by 10pm, after
all my homework is done. From my bedroom door, I hear them make a phone call:
“Yes, I think it’s
happened… we had hoped it would have skipped a generation – but I’m afraid to
say it hasn’t.” My Dad’s voice is clearly picked up from a part of the hallway
where I normally can’t hear anything – not even the television.
I knew it… they know
there’s something going on.
Turning, I find my
pajamas I thought I had lost the night before neatly folded on my bed, “I found
them outside.” His voice whispers from the door.
Spinning, I stare at
my Dad, “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Sorry, shoulda
knocked – you’re all grown up now.” A blush heats his cheeks, but he doesn’t
leave, “And sweetie, we know what’s been happening, why you walked home from
school today… the kids at school smell, different now.”
“I didn’t do
anything wrong.” I start looking for a way out but find he’s blocking the door,
“I had a weird dream.”
“You tracked down
somebody by their scent and attacked them?” he asked sitting down at my desk, clearing
the way to the hall, letting me know I could leave if I wanted, “Am I right?”
I didn’t know what
to say, so stay silent as I sink onto my bed, touching my pajamas, “Exactly
where were these?”
“Below your window
in the back yard.” He replies waiting for me to figure out what he already
knew.
“What… who… wha…?” I
didn’t know how to ask my own father about my screwed up identity, “Do I go to
school tomorrow?”
“No. We have placed
you into a private school for teens who are just like you – well almost. They are
kids who don’t fit into society because of their genetic make-up; and you’re
one of them.” He said, “I was wondering if you had to be enlisted into the
place or not.”
“Were you?”
He grimaced, “I only
wish this place was around when I was kid.” He slowly moved next to me and put
his arm around my shoulder, “Lisey, you are special in more ways than one… you
are from a pedigree family of werewolf. This means, you don’t have to get
bitten to be turned, you have it all in your genes. But you can turn people;
which I don’t think you should do.”
“So, what happens if
I meet somebody I want to be with?” I wasn’t sure if I want to believe my Dad.
“It doesn’t work
that way… you’ll sense another pedigree around you and you will both know if
you’re meant to be together.” He says, “It’s not all that complex.”
Suddenly, I can’t
handle it anymore, all this information I had only thought was crap
supernatural shit I’d seen on television and read in books. I burst into tears,
“Oh God, Dad, I think I … no, I couldn’t have… please don’t tell me I’m the one
who…”
Dad holds me close
as his silence confirms what I asked was true: I had killed those poor people
in the parks in the city over the last three nights.
“Oh sweetie, we
tried to lock you in, but you broke out every night.” Mum says from the door, “Now,
the authorities want you … um…” she couldn’t tell me that the police wanted to
kill me. Instead, she looks to the floor as she pulls a tissue from her pocket
and dabs her eyes.
“When do we leave?”
I ask.
“Tonight.” Dad says,
“We pack up all you gear after you go with me to the place and you’ll be safe
there.”
It looked more like
a prison than anything else. We drove along the road outside it as the sun set
behind us, but Dad didn’t stop the car; instead he kept on going.
“What’s wrong?”
“They were supposed
to meet us at the gate – there’s nobody there.”
He said, “We’ll go further around the see if there’s more instructions
to wait for.”
The top spun and
wobbled on the table as she slept on in the hospital with her folks watching
on.
“How’s she going,
doc?” I hear Dad’s voice warble through my sleep.
“Good, good.” He says
in a low voice, “The top is wobbling… she might be coming out of her third
level of dreaming yet.” He checks off a chart he holds in his hands, “Your
daughter is the best candidate we’ve had so far… but she has a ways go yet.”
The car pulls up and
Dad looks at me, “Now, you have to run.”
“What?” I ask.
“Lisey, you have
been sleeping… this isn’t real.” He leans in closer to me, whispering, “Make
the top fall over and wake up.”
The wooden top suddenly
falls off onto its side as my eyes snap open and I find myself in a hospital
bed, “What the hell.” The top to my right is swinging on its side as it stops
and I reach over and pick it up, sit up and look around. The spun rosewood is
pretty and old… and… the door opens and the doctor is standing there looking at
me, shock on his face, “No.”
The first thing I
smell is his scent as his heartbeat fills my head, “You… smell… so good.”
He turns away from
me, thumps a red button with his fist as I break the restraints on the bed with
an inhuman strength I feel as though I always had and jumped on his body, “Please…
don’t hurt me.”
I just love it when they
beg…
