chapter : 7

I wake up to the sound of muffled voices in an unfamiliar surrounding. I am in a small room with the curtains drawn over its only window, its main occupants are a bed which I currently lay on and a small bedside table on which there is a bottle of water. I gratefully gulp the water down, emptying half the bottle before I have to force myself to stop  and take a breath.

The last thing I remember was the immense pain and overwhelming blackness, but right now I don't feel any pain like I should be feeling . Only a lingering soreness. I'm sure I heard, and definitely felt, the bones in my left shoulder break, if not shatter. And then there was the fact that I had hit my head hard enough to get a concussion. But I feel fine, if not well rested. 

I look down at my bare left shoulder- it seems perfectly fine. I move my arm around and feel no pain at all. I look down at my palms and they seem fine too, not littered with cuts as I expected. Did I just have a nightmare last night? I'm still wearing my red prom dress and its fabric is ripped in a few places but still whole enough to cover me. Evidence it couldn't have been a dream.

I start to panic. I don't know where I am or how I got here and my mind was still reeling from what happened last night. What the fudge even did happen last night. Was I drugged? Was I kidnapped? Or am I still dreaming? 

My head swims with the infinite line of questions suffocating my thoughts. I gulp more water down and will myself to just stop thinking.

Before I could panic further the door opens and I see a surprised Irene who is wearing a black hoodie over her prom dress. Relief like I've never known before floods through me. "Oh" she simply states as if she expected to find me asleep and enters closing the door behind her. My first thought is I am at Irene's house, but I don't remember it having any room as small as this from the many times I've been there. 

"Irene!" I exclaim, glad to see a familiar face "where are we?"

"Ahh. . ." she drops a bundle of gray cloth into my hands as she searches for the words to say ".... at a family friend's, she has medical experience so we brought you here to treat your wounds" 

"So I did get hurt" I say more to myself than to Irene. "Yeah you did get hurt" says Irene looking slightly confused "pretty badly at that too".

"Then where are they?" I ask but she still looks confused 

"Where are what?"

"The wounds?" I say gesturing to my shoulder. 

"Ah. . . right. . . that . . ." Says Irene backing up to the door and sneaking it open "Is somethingimnotexplaining" she blurts and escapes out the door slamming it shut.

I hear her muffled voice shout from the other side of the door "She's awake!" and after a pause she adds "... and very curious!" 

I huff and look at what Irene gave me, a gray hoodie that has small Mickey Mouse heads printed all over it like polka dots. I stand up to put it on. The door opens just as I pull the hoodie over my head and I see Seth standing in the doorway.

He closes the space between us in two strides and engulfs me in a hug. I am shocked but I still return the hug nuzzling my head closer to his neck. I feel his chest rise and fall as his breath ruffles my hair and  hear the steady beat of his heart. He smells like pine and forest air mixed with masculinity. I feel the panic leave me as I savor the feeling of his arms around me. I feel safe. It's like he is a drug I take that has no side effects-except for the fluttering in my heart and the butterflies in my stomach.

"I'm sorry" he mutters into my hair and my drug has lasted. I frown and pull back far enough to look at him, he looks hurt, pained. "What for?" I ask 

"It's my fault you got bitten and-"

"How can you say that?" I cut him off before he can go any further "None of this is anyone's fault". I don't understand why he blames himself for this. I shuddered as I couldn't help but think about the creatures that jumped out of nowhere and wreaked havoc. What could he have done to prevent the attack from happening? After all, he is just as human as me.

Seth just sighs and I have the distinct feeling that he isn't telling me something. 

* * *

"Go ahead Ava" says Garcia, a woman in her sixties with graying hair, who, I was told,was the one who treated me. She looks like someone whom I wouldn't disrespect - No one would disrespect. "I bet you're bursting with questions".

It is about 12 a.m. I had asked Stacy about my wounds and the demonic creatures but she said I would get a proper explanation if I waited for a few more minutes. That being said, I was left to wait alone in the living room while the others- Stacy, Seth, Irene, Ryan and Garcia- had a small debate in the kitchen. After a few minutes of hurried murmurs, one or two barely raised voices, and then a beat of silence everyone had filled out the kitchen and gathered in the living room to finally give me some answers.

I surveyed the room feeling everyone's eyes on me as they silently monitored my each and every move, out of concern or something else I wasn;t entirely sure. Taking a deep breath I blurt the first thing that comes to my mind "What were those creatures?"

Stacy meets my gaze and she answers with a soothing, quiet calm as if careful not to startle me. "Werewolves" she says here voice ringing out the word loud and clear in the dead silence "the kind that are called Varcolacks".