Bite

8

My parents arrive at the house much later. After a couple of healing agent injections, my eye is scarred over but still hurting. I narrowly avoided losing my entire eye.

“Ashara!” My dad runs to me. “Who did this? Who did this?”

“It’s nothing, dad.” I move my face away.

“What do you mean it’s nothing? Have you lost your marbles, Ash?” He looks at me.

“The werewolf scratched her.” Emilia shook her head. “She’s fine, she got the shot and some healing agents.”

“It’s not fine. What the hell, Ellisyn?” My dad looks at her.

“Your daughter is an adult, she can watch herself.” Ellisyn shakes her head.

“Not with just one eye.” My dad protests. I gently place my hand on his shoulder.

“Dad, it’s okay.” I look up at him. “I promise.”

“Are you sure, sweetie? You don’t have to keep doing this.” My dad looked at me.

“I know but you know I can’t rest until they’re six feet under.” I sighed, looking away.

“Ashara, please be honest with me. Do you want to keep hunting?” My dad crossed his arms. I hate feeling like I’m disappointing him. I most certainly am, but I just want to get my revenge.

“I do.” I sighed.My dad just hugs me.

“I wish you’d stop putting yourself in danger.” He sighs, rubbing my back.

The next morning, we headed back to his tomb site. Terrence was driving, Emilia was messing with the radio, and I was on my second Starbucks frappuccino. Lauren had opted to go with us, stating that she was bored.

“What do you think we’ll find?” Emilia asked us.

“That I don’t know.” Terrence shook his head. “We could find anything.”

“Hopefully we can find a clue to how they sealed that motherfucker in there.” Emilia shakes her head.

“Hopefully.” Lauren responds. We get back to the site, making sure we all have our weapons on us. We spray ourselves with scent spray to cover our scents.

“We stick together, okay?” Emilia looked at us. “Lauren and Terrence.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Terrence pretends to salute Emilia and she laughs. We look around. There’s rotting wood structures everywhere and a well in the middle. There’s the hole where they dug up the werewolf god. I notice what looks like headstones in a corner besides a pile of rotting wood. I walk up to them. They have names.

“Albert Cross, 1775-1778, smallpox. Awww, he was only three.” Lauren looked saddened.

“Lavinia Houston, 1666-1761, old age” Terrence shook his head.

“Katalina Ziranda.1572-1772, murdered.” I responded. I walk into one of the abandoned houses with Emilia following behind me. There was nothing in the house save for a ring. It was beautiful, a ruby inlaid in a gold band that was intertwined with another. I wonder who it was. I leave it there, not wanting to disturb the item.

“It smells like pigs in here.” a voice said. All the hairs on my arms and neck stood up. Varron. I turned to see him with several other werewolves. I get flashbacks and my head starts to hurt.

“I thought I was smelling a wet dog.” I manage, feeling my fists getting warm.

“Seems we’re after the same thing. But it’s missing.” Varron smiles at me. I feel bile in the back of my throat.

“You’re after him, aren’t you?” I backed up into a rotting wall.

“Well, duh. We need our aid to help us in this time of need.” Varron changes his arm to a werewolf’s and swings at me. I duck and take out his ankles. Emilia shoots him right in the thigh. Terrence and Lauren run to us, weapons drawn.

“Is he one of them, Ashara?” Terrence looked at me.

“You-” He glares at Em with golden glowing eyes. “You’re all pathetic and stupid.”

“Yes.” I responded, looking right at Varron. Terrence then kicks him in the face.

“Ow.” Varron snarls at him. Lauren shoots him in the hand.

“Why?” He hollers. He was always pathetic.

“You need help?” Emilia shoots him right in the groin area. “You know we’ll help you.”

“You fucking bitch!” Varron starts to shift into his werewolf form.

“Don’t go too far, Em. But I think I got it.” I summon the macuahuitl and he finishes shifting, darting towards me. I managed to slice his arm off.

“Where are the rest of your dog friends?” I snapped at him, setting his cut off arm on fire.

“It was just me, I swear!” Varron looked panicked. I then sliced off his foot. He starts to scream louder.

“I’m not lying! Stop cutting off my limbs!” He was grabbing at his ankle. I cut off his other hand. “I’ll tell you whatever you want!”

“Why do you want the werewolf god? Is it for your pack’s sick little project?” I smack the blade into his other foot.

“No, don’t cut off my other one, God, what is wrong with you?”

“A lot.” I slice it off anyway. He starts to screech. “Some assholes decided to beat and brutalize me for the funsies and now everything’s broken. Answer my question or I’ll go for your entire arm next.”

“I’m not telling you that!” Varron looked at me, angrily. I just sliced off his arm.

“They want him to increase our power, the other packs are plotting against us and we need to strengthen ourselves and our numbers!” He hollered.

“No honor among thieves, huh?” I shake my head at him. “Are you still trafficking people?”

“No, we stopped after your little stunt!” Varron looks at me.

“I don’t believe you in the slightest.” I slice off his leg at the knee.

“Goddamn you, Ashara!” He hollers. I aim for his head, slicing it clean off with the macuahuitl.

“He already did.” I snap and his body is set ablaze by the sacred fire.

“So, the other werewolves turned on them. I wonder why.” Emilia looks at me.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “They are a strange bunch.”