It’s been months since Winter has been gone and I’ve gotten myself a regular job in a cafe as a barista
of all things. Can you imagine that? I never would have thought I would have to be as responsible as I
now am, taking care
of the bills and still going to school at the same time. Is this how Winter had felt every day when she
had done all the
household chores and responsibilites?
“Thanks, have a good one” one of my regulars yelled out as they left, the last customer of the night,
and I closed the door gratefully and locked it. Now all I have to do is clean up and I’m done for the
night. It doesn’t take long, I’ve
got myself into a regular routine and before I know it, I’ve put my coat on and ducked out the door. Brrr
it’s slightly
cold and I shiver, putting my hands in my pockets.
I walk home slowly. It’s otherwise a beautiful night and the stars are twinkling overhead. I don’t bother
to use
the car anymore. Not when I can avoid it anyway. Walking saves gas and means I have more money to
take care of the
bills. Besides, it’s not like home is that far away and I’m not frightened that someone’s going to jump
me. I’m a shifter for heaven’s sake, not to mention, the town is mainly made up of pack members and
shifters.
I stared at my house, feeling strangely hesitant. It looks so uninviting and cold. Then again, it’s felt that
way since Winter’s been gone. I never really saw just how having my little sister around made the
house feel more like a home. I miss her laughter and her smiles, even if her smiles were rare and few
and far between. I miss Winter. I miss
my little sister, more than I ever thought possible.
Tunlocked the door and put my keys away in the entrance hall, turning on the lights. It might seem silly,
but I
hate that the house is dark when I get home. I really should remember to at least leave the front porch
light on, but it always seems to slip my mind. Sigh, the refrigerator is practically empty. Damnit. I’ll have
to go grocery shopping
tomorrow. My stomach growls. Damn I’m hungry.
Then it hits me. There’s a scent in the house and it doesn’t belong to me. It’s not Winter’s either. It’s
also
frighteningly familiar, although I can’t quite place it. It’s definitely not father’s, I’d know the smell of that
bastard anywhere. It seems to be throughout the entire house. Has someone broken in while I’ve been
working? But nothing
appears to have been stolen. Then again, it’s not like there’s anything worth stealing in this house
anyway.
I sniffed and began to do a methodical search of the rooms, my body tensed and poised to fight. But
there was no one there. The smell is faint, like it’s been several hours since whoever it belongs to has
been here, but there is one
more place that I have yet to check and I’m not looking forward to it. But the basement needs to be
checked and I’m not going to shy away like a coward. But why the hell is this scent so familiar to me?
It’s like I’ve smelt this scent
before but I can’t for the life of me think who it might belong to.
The smell is stronger as I approach the door leading down to the basement and I give a grin. If the
person is still
down there, they are in for one hell of a beating. I opened the door cautiously and began my descent
down the stairs,
listening for any signs of a person waiting to ambush me, the smell getting increasingly stronger. I have
no doubt that there’s someone waiting down here for me and my eyes continually scan my
surroundings. My whole body is tense, ready to shift at a seconds notice in order to protect myself.
Where are you, you bastard, I think fiercely to myself, prepared to shift at a second’s notice. I reach the
bottom of the stairs and begin to move forward, ears pricked for the tiniest of sounds. The basement is
dark and I curse the fact
that I’ve never gotten around to replacing the light globe that’s no longer working. Some light would be
really useful
right about now.
I’m cautious, moving around the various bits of junk and furniture that’s piled haphazardly all over the
place.
The basement’s been used primarily for a junk room over the years, but it also contains one other thing
that makes
me sick to my stomach as I stare at it. The cage, or more accurately a cell, stands in one corner, made
of silver with shackles and restraints against the wall, to keep someone immobile and unable to move.
A cell, that I remember with remorse, Winter was often placed in and locked up for what father deemed
as misbehaviour. Even now, I can still
remember her screams as she pleaded to be let out. The crying. God, my stomach churns to look at it
and I resolve to
get rid of the cell as soon as humanly possible. There’s nothing but bad energy down here and it’s like
it sucks all the happiness out of you.
The sound of footsteps rushing towards me, has my body turning, but too little too late as I feel a sharp
pinprick
in my thigh. I fall, my knees buckling to the ground, feeling strange, my body almost paralysed. What
the hell have been dosed with? How could I have been so stupid and let my guard down, even for a
moment? What is it that this person wants from me? They’d been hiding in the shadows, awaiting the
perfect opportunity to strike and I’d given it to them. I’d let myself be distracted by the cell and gotten
lost in my memories. How stupid could I be?
My head feels like it’s spinning and becoming hazy as I drop to a lying down position on the hard
concrete floor. My body refuses to move, let alone shift, and it’s now that I realize I’m unable to hear my
wolf at all. That meant only one thing. I’ve been dosed with wolfsbane.
“Who are you” I managed to mutter, my throat seizing. The footsteps are slower now and the person
comes right around to my front, giving me a perfect view of them. My eyes widened in horror. I must be
imagining things surely. The wolfsbane must be playing havoc with my mind. That’s the only logical
explanation I can think of, as they bend
over me. They’re not real, this is just a dream of some sort. I’m hallucinating. This wasn’t possible at all.
Had I been
drugged back at the diner? Had someone put something in one of my drinks?
Because this can’t be happening. My eyes are feeling heavy now and I’m struggling to keep them
open. The person chuckles down at me as I flinch. The person sounds real, but do they feel real? The
prick in my leg had felt real enough.
“Well now” he murmurs,” it looks like you’re in a bit of a sticky situation now, aren’t you Damien”, he
says with a
smirk. He’s getting blurry now but the voice, the voice is exactly how I remember him. How is he here?
Why is he here
and what is it that he wants? Oh god, is he after Winter? Darkness surrounds me and I succumb to it,
passing out
completely unconscious and left to this person’s mercy. How is he still alive and what does he want
from me after all this time?
62fb1bb41dcb31934bd49bda