A High School Werewolf

Chapter 28-Healing Hands

Sarah came back to when her ripped shirt began trying to take skin of with it, as Nichole gentle removed it.

Nichole was muttering as she worked, "Come on you damn cloth. Get out of the way so I can properly bandage this."

Sarah teased dully, "Talking to clothing, now are we?"

Nichole jumped slightly, "Oh! You're awake. I will have you know that you are very heavy."

"And I thought you were strong."

"I wouldn't insult your medic if I were you."

Sarah fidgeted with her hands, "Right. Sorry, um. Can you explain to me what the hell is going on here?"

Nichole sighed as she freed the torn shirt from Sarah's mangled back. "I may have not been completely honest with you about my family."

Sarah muttered, "You think."

"We are actually in the military, but it's a cover for our anti-werewolf tribe, or cult, the werewolf wranglers. My father's the leader. And Rick is my cousin. Everybody is referred to as brother or sister, or in my dad's case, Father. I didn't realize how wrong they were about werewolves until I met you. But, I can't leave now. My father is the leader, and, and I'm terrified of him."

"Do you at least know what they're going to do with me?"

Nichole cursed as she fumbled with the bandage before answering, "I don't know specifics. Just that they plan to torture you without killing you. Then make an example of you and kill you displaying your dead, mutilated, body in front of everyone to show what werewolves deserve."

Sarah cursed, "Fuck. I'm doomed."

Nichole finished and left the room, "Sorry."

Sarah lost track of all time as she lost hope and gave into despair. Every day was the same. Being woken by pain of wounds or by Nichole. Next, her daily 'lessons' with Rick then returning to her room for Nichole to bandage her. They never bother to give her food. Why bother feeding someone you're just going to kill? Sarah had long since given up pleading from Nichole to help her escape. He original banter and joking had slowly diminished until her only communication was the occasional whimper of pain as Nichole bandaged her wounds.

So, when Nichole entered carrying a small saw along with her normal first aid equipment, Sarah's only response was a whimper of fear.

Nichole reassured, "Don't worry it's for your cast." As she sat down next to Sarah she leaned in and whispered in her ear, "I convinced them saying that it was only getting in the way. But it's actually so you can escape. I can't sneak you out, but we can fight out. There are only around ten of us here total. Nine that we need to dispose of. Just by knocking them unconscious I don't want to become a murderer. When I finish bandaging you, we're going to make a break for it." Doubt crossed her face at Sarah's lack of reaction. "That is, if you're strong enough."

In truth the only part of Sarah that didn't hurt was her left leg where the cast had protected it from Rick's various tortures. Burns, cuts, and bruises covered the rest of her body. Almost nothing was untouched from the over a month of torture she had endured at the hands of Nichole's father's cult. The few times Father Stephan had visited, Sarah had understood Nichole's terror of her father. She couldn't imagine disobeying the man, even for love or whatever Nichole felt for her, if anything.

Nichole had finished removing the cast revealing Sarah's healed and uninjured leg. Nichole steadily continued changing Sarah's bandages careful not to jar her splinted left arm. Sarah repressed a shudder of the memory when Rick had broken it.