Chapter six: Werewolves

Werewolves… She'd seen one before, not too close, in broad daylight.

It'd attacked a neighbor in his garden, tearing at his flesh.

`Stay inside.' Mum commanded, then picked up her rifle. The door closed shut behind her and she cocked the gun. The next thing was Jo flinching when the gun went off.

*

There she laid, in the puddle of her own blood. Biten by a werewolf… ha! How ironic.

Her eyes where vacant, cloudy white and streaked with crimson. She laid in a petrifying stillness, holding her bleeding side, whimpering and shaking and at the same time trying to stop the bleeding.

Breathing became an unbearable pain. Her thoughts were distant and the only conversations were her slowing down heart and rapid rising and falling of her chest due to the painful breathing.

Her body was so cold so she tried applying more pressure to her wounded side but then she realized… the bleeding had seized. She just rolled her eyes to the sky at least she could still make out the moon from bleak eyes… What now?

Not long she sprang up with a new found energy, like she could overcome anything. Did she just die and wake up right before her own eyes?

She got up, walking. Then sprang into a half run. On reaching her heels, she picked them up and continued running. Jo felt incredible, she woke up with a new found energy, a purpose and a new mission. She knew what she was created to do now.

On arriving at the club, it was already closed and her vehicle was gone, it only meant one thing. She checked her cracked phone's screen. (12:00pm). I picked up my pace again, I could never get tired at this rate.

*

He had to get away from her as fast as he could. She smelled so delicious, her smell so rare and one of a kind. Only heaven knows what he would have done to her, if only she wasn't a damsel in distress… And there's something definitely up about her, that keeps danger away from her, he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

He slammed the front door walking majestically, keys clinking in hand, head reeling and mind racing. He felt a headache coming up.

`Jake!.' A maroon haired guy called with a British accent (same with Jake's), while fleding down the stairs in a swift speed.

`You don't look so elegant as of this morning.' Jake ignored him. `I'm guessing you didn't find a good snack?.'

Jake just sharply glared at him, his stare very deadly `Or did you loose it?.' Jake quickly grabbed him by the neck, pinning him to the cold creaking wall, with a huge force.

`This isn't a joking matter.' He snarled, chilly in a roar like manner, revealing his fangs.

`Okay-okay, I give up.' The maroon haired guy waved in defeat and he released his hard, firm grip on him. But the guy didn't feel hurt or anything, like he was used to it, instead he just smirked.