Wolf's Blood

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Lonely prisoner

Alone in the room, her second dose now dispensed, she had plenty of time to look at her surroundings. Dull, stainless steel counters surrounded her but nothing else was in the room to clutter or contaminate the area. Her last prison cell, of sorts, had been a room constructed completely of wood. A result of which many patterns emerged that filled her imagination to the brim, the passage of time not as unbearable. But her new cell walls were made of steel. No stains or imperfections to stimulate her imagination this time.

She heard the soft and steady beat of her heart on the monitor and nothing else but her breathing. Since the paralysis wore off an hour ago, she had tirelessly tested her bonds. Every appendage had been securely tethered except for her severed hand, which flailed about freely. Her severed hand and the familiar trace aroma surrounding her reminded So-seti of Aticus.

The fanatical howling that Aticus learned and deciphered from his mother’s howls, on full-moon nights had been like a beacon when she searched for him and when she found him she vowed to never let her grandson go. So-seti felt sorrow when she thought of Aticus, brought up in this world confused with nobody to tutor him. She taught him to build a hut for protection when the rains came. She remembered teaching him to build a house near to civilization or rather, near to the prey, but not near enough to get noticed. But most importantly she taught him to seamlessly go from Wolf to man and back again without the sway of the full Moon.

So-seti managed a smile, Aticus was an excellent student, and he exceeded her expectations. They would hunt together as wolves sometimes in the daylight with no moon in sight. Come home to their hut with their prize and consume their prey as humans, grandmother and grandson enjoying a meal.

Ironically, it would be her very help, guidance and the construction of their home that brought about unwanted attention from the town folk that would be the beginning of the end for reconciliation. So-seti remembered trying to teach him the spells of her human ancestors; the very incantations that birthed “wolf’s blood”. The invocations unknowingly brought about attention from the God’s Light. And ultimately she failed her vow when she had been wounded and captured. The beat on the monitor associated with her heart rate increased just thinking about the God’s Light. The accursed God’s Light! The soft buzz of florescent lights soothed her momentarily to look at her wrinkled hand before the chains pulled taunt.

Two millennium of imprisonment, Lupine and long-lived she didn’t take stock in the passage of time, but she knew it had been a very long time since the loss of her grandson. No sun or moon to mark day or night, stuck deep inside the structure, no temperature variations to gauge the seasons. The only marker was the God’s Light apparel changing throughout the years, togas turned into lab coats, and sandals turned into modern, shiny shoes. But their sigil, it remained the same, the triangle with the accursed eye in it.

She had time now to think about the catatonic state she had been in. She had suddenly awaked when she heard the whirl of the helicopter blades. When God’s Light employees walked by she pretended to still be catatonic but So-seti couldn’t help turning her head to look at James and his intoxicating scent. Flying in a helicopter had been miracle enough, let alone the scenery, the wondrous scenery she felt an enormous chasm deep inside her heart. Despite the fact that she had been heavily sedated So-seti had managed to look around and out a large porthole to see unbelievable changes all around her. A few stone dwellings turned to a steel structure and plentiful. Some structures reminded her of the Tower of Babel, reaching vainly for the heavens. She even saw another flying machine high in the sky, sleek and shining white with blue stripes, until it faded into the distance.

Idle thoughts going through her mind about flying machines with fancy white and blue stripes, sturdy steel structures, the familiar aroma throughout the room and the curiously unique smell of James had stayed with her and made her feel alive for the first time in a very long time. She couldn’t gauge exactly how much time she had lost but it was a travesty that she had lost time to begin with and she had to do something about it now. She struggled to break her restraints but atrophied muscles and two doses of silver nitrate made it impossible.

Her dusty and dry eyes began to moisten until they were wet with tears. A lump in her throat formed. Small fangs tried to form but quickly receded. She tried to form claws but got nothing but blood for her effort. Five small skeletal fingers emerged from her severed arm like an emerging tooth bud on a baby and just as quickly retreated into the severed muscle thanks to the silver nitrate.

She remembered Aticus’ obsessive howl and howled, “Howwl, oww, oww!”

She howled the aria for hours until hoarse from effort and dying of thirst, she relented. Several yards underground and the room made of several inches of soundproofing material before the final steel panel had been painstakingly applied; the howls reached no ears.

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