Rejection on the Alpha #1

20. A Cry Of Tally-Ho

(New and edited)
CHAPTER 20: A Cry of Tally-Ho

I look around, not terrified, but lost. Those three girls I was following before got lost in a crowd of illusions by the smell of it. None of them were here, no sweat to sent in the floral air. It smelt of roses, and a citrus of lime and orange, like an orchid of some kind, only among the bright colours was the red-tailed, orange-furred Fox I saw being chased not more than a few second ago.

It looked at me.

Purposely, among the crowd, it craned its head back to look into my eyes, it's deep blue ones beckoning me to follow like a puppet on strings and just like that, I followed. Moving through the crowd, across the bonfires, "Wait!" I call out, not getting anything from it, just hesitating at the déjà vu feeling creeping up my neck as I look back to the trees and still see nothing. Martin, Alice, Serena...they were all gone. I turn back from the fires around me and move further into the trees, ducking at a few bushes lowered down and following the creature, not recognising the change in the air until the fog and mist curls around my legs like white snakes shooting from the dirt. I run now, the orange blur flickers before I'm shoved off my feet and I scream at the sudden hall of the world shouting at me. I fly down and knock with a palpating force that rips my rib cage apart as I fall down a dirty hill of tree branch and dirt, grime and filth before groaning at the flat moment of concrete, of the sound of cars beeping and fumes.

What the hell?

I search for an explanation. I was in the woods and now I'm standing on a concrete flooring, in front of a building that wasn't far from the main city of London I believe. I smelt the air, it was one powerful illusion, to formulate the same air. Not only that, to shove someone from the woods, to a city structure in one of the most advanced simulations I've ever known.

All that I truly did know about this hell hole, is that they weren't tampering with my brain—meaning I'm not actually sitting in a chair right now, tied up to a bunch of wires, I was actually here, and Martin—he was actually, physically with me before that shield or wall of some kind slammed between us the second I saw that fox.

I heard the sound of a raging, ear-popping beep. And then my mind swirls to something I never wanted to see.

A memory.

"They're uncertain whether working for the supernatural council is of benefit to some orphans quite like her. She did not respond well to particular treatments that was advanced in her diagnostics, Agent. I did quite know who requested the child be put through combat training?" The nurse, she stood there like a concerned fool when it was obvious she had an agenda. The man in front of me, he said his name was Agent K. Only gave me initials.

"You said she shifted easily, under command, that isn't common for an eleven year old." The man says, his eyes illuminating in the dining room. Only I wasn't sitting in that room, instead I was in the hallway, skin tight in cold night clothes, the bruises on my wrists from cuffs against the bed. Like each other werewolf orphan must do for the safety of any human orphans that were upstairs too. Agent K sniffs the air, he knows I'm there, except he doesn't pin-point it.

"Yes, she did. Why is it not common for creatures like you?" The distaste under her tongue was hidden well. I was about to move, back upstairs, given its all I could do. Before the step creaked and before I could shoot up the staircase, he was kneeled by the seat.

The nurse stood there behind him, glaring at me, "You're supposed to be in bed." She says to me.

"Leave us a moment." Agent K says to her, staring at me, he's in a pristine suit with a white collar and a blue tie, thinner than that of a lawyer, but thicker than that of a rookie. He wasn't just any cop or agent of some kind, I recognised his face just from seeing it once, he's an associate to a council member I had seen once, taking up operations that would make the Whitehouse look like a red carpet circus.