chapter 7

With a defiant roar, I launched myself at the nearest assailant, my fists flying in a flurry of blows. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, heightening my senses and sharpening my reflexes as I fought with everything I had.

With every ounce of strength I could muster, I fought against the relentless assault of the werewolves, but it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave with my bare hands. Their power was overwhelming, their claws and teeth tearing through my defenses with frightening ease. I could feel my energy draining away, my limbs growing heavier with each passing moment.

As one of the werewolves grabbed me and hurled me across the basement, pain exploded through my body as I crashed into the hard concrete floor. Gasping for breath, I struggled to push myself up, but the agony was too intense, my muscles refusing to obey my commands.

Through the haze of pain, I watched in horror as one of the werewolves advanced on my mother, its razor-sharp claws poised to strike. With a primal scream of terror, I summoned every ounce of willpower I possessed and unleashed a burst of energy unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

As the brilliant blue glow emanated from my body, casting an ethereal light throughout the basement, I felt my strength waning, my consciousness slipping away. With my eyes barely open, I watched as the werewolves were thrown back by the sheer force of the energy I had unleashed, crashing into the walls with a deafening impact. Through the chaos, I caught a glimpse of my mother scrambling to safety, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Just as darkness threatened to engulf me, I saw my uncle burst into the basement, his eyes widening in astonishment at the scene before him. "She has a wolf?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with incredulity. And then, with a sinking feeling, I succumbed to unconsciousness, my body giving in to the overwhelming exhaustion.

In the moments that followed, I was vaguely aware of voices speaking around me, their words muffled and distant. My mother's panicked inquiries mingled with my uncle's reassurances, their tones fraught with worry and confusion. "How on earth are there starewolves walking freely in town, and why in heaven's name would they want to kill me? I need answers," my mother demanded, her voice trembling with fear and frustration.

"I understand your pain, sister," my uncle replied, his voice grave and solemn. "I, for one, am as confused as you are. But now is not the time for questions. We need to get Clara to the hospital immediately. If she truly does have a wolf, you know what's coming next."

With a sense of urgency, my uncle and mother worked together to lift me from the basement floor, their movements gentle yet determined. As they carried me upstairs and out into the cool night air, I could feel the weight of their concern pressing down on me, their unspoken fears hanging heavy in the air.

In the distance, the sound of sirens pierced the silence, growing louder with each passing moment. My heart raced with apprehension as we hurried to the waiting car, my mind swimming with a thousand unanswered questions. What had happened to me in the basement? And what did it mean for my future?

As we sped toward the hospital, I clung to consciousness with all my strength, the events of the night swirling around me in a haze of confusion and fear. 

As we raced through the darkened streets toward the hospital, every jolt of the car sent a wave of pain rippling through my body. 

The flashing lights of passing vehicles blurred into streaks of color against the night sky, and the distant wail of sirens echoed in my ears like a haunting melody. 

My mother's voice was a constant presence beside me, her hand gripping mine with a fierce determination that mirrored my own.

As we arrived at the hospital, a flurry of activity surrounded us. Doctors and nurses rushed to our aid, their voices blending together in a cacophony of urgency. 

I was gently lifted from the car and placed onto a stretcher, the harsh glare of fluorescent lights overhead causing my vision to swim.

The world around me seemed to fade in and out of focus, the edges of my consciousness fraying like a worn fabric. I could hear snippets of conversation—words like "trauma" and "emergency surgery" floating in the air—but they felt distant, disconnected from the reality of my own body.

My heart raced erratically, each beat sending a pulse of pain through my chest. I struggled to draw in a breath, my lungs burning with the effort. Every movement, every sensation, was magnified a hundredfold, a relentless assault on my senses.

Through the haze of pain and confusion, I felt the cool touch of a needle against my skin. The sharp sting of the injection cut through the fog of my mind, sending a shiver down my spine. 

With a final, desperate gasp, I felt myself slipping into darkness, the world falling away around me.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence—a profound stillness that enveloped me like a blanket. Then, slowly, I began to dream. Images flickered through my mind like fragments of memory, fleeting and ephemeral. Faces I couldn't quite place, places I'd never been, all swirling together in a kaleidoscope of color and light.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the dream faded away, leaving me adrift in a sea of darkness. I drifted, weightless and untethered, lost in the endless expanse of my own mind.

But even in the depths of unconsciousness, a single thought echoed through me with a fierce intensity:

As Clara lay unconscious on the hospital bed, her mother sat vigil by her side, her face etched with worry and exhaustion. She stroked Clara's hair gently, whispering words of encouragement in the hope that her daughter would be awaken soon.