Other Fan Fiction / Horror Fan Fiction ❯ Hunted ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

Werewolves do not come into being by a “bite” from one of their kind. Quite the opposite. They are born monsters with the mind and body that of a human. The wolf awakens from a bite given by a fellow wolf, hence the origin of the myth. The transformation between the human and werewolf can only begin once the first bite is given. Nothing else can spark the reaction. If the human is never found by another werewolf, the monster inside will soon gain enough power to take over the body and destroy the human mind, leaving a monster free to roam. It is the duty of all werewolves to track down and kill these monsters.

 

Contrary to popular belief, a normal human being cannot be turned into a werewolf by the bite. Rather, a more difficult technique must be used that involves a vampire, one which not always yields results. Many times, the human, vampire, and werewolf in question destroy themselves in the process. This technique has been banned for centuries due to the amazingly high rate of failure and is punishable by death, unless the transformation of a human is absolutely necessary for the supernatural races' well being.

 

Hm. Interesting. That is different. I glanced at the clock for a second, wondering how long I've been sitting there reading.

 

5:36 .

 

Five hours…not bad. My eyes had started to twinge again from reading for so long, so I grabbed a piece of paper lying on the table next to me, placed it as a bookmark in the book, and stood up, stretching. Crack! Wow, that felt good. I looked to see how far I was in the book. Only a quarter of the way to go. Not bad.

 

“I like that old time rock `n roll…”

 

I jumped at the sound of my cell phone singing. Quickly, I grabbed the device, looking to see who was calling me. No name, just a number:

 

545-7832.

 

I didn't recognize the number, but answered it anyway. Curiosity always gets the best of me. I really won't be surprised if it ends up getting me killed.

 

“Hello?” I greeted kindly.

 

“Is this Ms. Capona?” asked a vaguely familiar voice.

 

“Yes, it is. Can I help you?” I answered, slightly confused.

 

“Hello, this is Nikolas. I'm the manager at Barnes and Noble. We talked earlier today,” the voice answered.

 

Ah, so that's who it is. I smiled in spite of myself. What can I say? There's always something about a polite guy that gets me. “Is there something wrong?” I asked.

 

“No, nothing is wrong,” he reassured me before continuing. “I haven't been able to get you out of my mind, so I was wondering if you would be interested in joining me for dinner this evening.”

 

I raised an eyebrow. I barely knew this guy and he was already hitting on me…and doing a pretty good job of it, too. Usually, I would blow guys off that I didn't know, but I just spent the day entertained because of this man. And, he was polite. Plus, how many points had I already given him? That's gotta deserve a chance right there.

 

“I do understand that tonight might not be the best night to be asking you out, as I am a complete stranger to you, but I do hope you consider my offer,” he added after I didn't answer. “If you would like, I could just meet you at a restaurant so we could have dinner.”

 

Give the man another point for not being pushy. How could I say no now? “Sure. Where would you like to meet?”

 

“Do you mind Italian food?” he asked.

 

I could just hear the happiness in his voice, but it wasn't what struck me first. Do I mind Italian food? What kind of question is that?! I love Italian food! “Italian sounds great.”

 

“I was originally thinking Bavaro's, but after last night, that doesn't seem like a good idea. How would the Italian Courtyard be?”

 

“Perfect,” was my reply. This man was smart and smooth. If he proves to really be this and not just faking it, there might be a second date. Well, let's not get carried away. That one all depends on the conversation. Some guys can really trick you at first.

 

“Would 7:30 work for you?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, 7:30's fine,” I answered.

 

“Alright, it's a date. I shall see you then.” His voice was so beautiful, it was almost addicting to listen to.

 

“See you later.” With that, I hung up the phone.

 

I checked the time, seeing how much time I had left. It was 5:43. It took about twenty minutes to get to the restaurant from my apartment on a good day, so I would have to leave at seven, just to be safe. I learned to do that a while ago. If I ever leave at the moment where I should be exactly right on time, I'll be late, so I've just gotten in the habit of leaving a little bit early.

 

I walked into my room and looked in my closet, trying to find something to wear. I finally settled on a pair of rather nice black slacks and a silk, dark green blouse. It looked nice enough.

 

Besides, it's not like I could wear a dress or anything. It was too cold for that!

 

I grabbed the clothes from their hangers and laid them on the bed before entering my bathroom, washing my hair in the sink, and plugging in the hair straightener. I wanted to look nice, but I didn't feel like doing anything extravagant with my hair. Just straightening it would do. With that, I pulled out the blow dryer.

 

The hour passed quickly. I glanced at the clock on my bedroom wall as I was lacing up my black leather boots and saw that it was five `til seven. I grabbed my black coat from the closet. Just on time. I quickly walked out, grabbed my cell phone from the side table and dropped it in my purse. Grabbing my keys, I turned off the lights, walked out of the apartment, and locked the door.

 

That eerie feeling I had felt that morning in the elevator was gone as it ascended down the floors, opening on the first level.

 

Twenty-five minutes later, I stepped out of my car and locked it before I walked into the warm restaurant. Immediately, my senses were attacked with the sweet aroma of the Italian food cooking. I stood in front of the door for a moment just inhaling the wonderful scent. Garlic is a wonderful thing.

 

“A party of one, miss?” the hostess asked.

 

“Oh, no, I'm meeting someone here,” I answered. “Has a Nikolas arrived yet?”

 

“Are you Ms. Capona?” she asked.

 

I nodded in response.

 

“Right this way, ma'am.” Quickly, she led me through the restaurant to a table secluded in the back.

 

Nikolas stood, his appearance astounding. Damn did he look good! He was wearing black dress pants and a white button-up shirt. The top few buttons were unbuttoned, showing glimpses of tan skin underneath; no tie. His hair wasn't spiked, instead, styled as it was the night before, hanging just below his eyes, free of gel.

 

“Good evening, Danni,” he greeted me, pulling out my chair. Give the man another point.

 

“Good evening,” I replied, sitting down as he adjusted the chair. Manners, too. I think I could get used to this. I watched him take his seat in front of me, his eyes sparkling.

 

“I'm honored that you agreed to join me tonight,” he stated, smiling.

 

I smiled. “Are you always so formal?”

 

That made him laugh. Just as his voice was, his laughter was beautiful. I was surprised that he could maintain such a delicate laugh. “Only when I'm nervous.”

 

That turned my smile into a grin. “Well can you handle not being for formal for tonight?” I asked, teasing him a little.

 

His eyes sparkled at that one. “I think I can manage it.”

 

A rather handsome waiter approached us, his brown eyes lingering on mine for a few moments longer than necessary. His black hair fell around his eyes, with the front left part bleached blond. “Good evening. My name is Ryan, I shall be your server for this evening,” he greeted while handing us the menus. “I'll give you two a few moments to look over our drinks. Order whatever you would like, no matter if it is listed or not.”

 

“Thank you, Ryan,” Nikolas answered for both of us.

 

Ryan nodded his head, smiling at us, before turning and leaving to take another table's order.

 

I quickly scanned over the menu, looking for something of interest. My search was gently interrupted by Nikolas's voice.

 

“Please, order what you want. The price doesn't matter,” he said.

 

I looked up at him to see his gaze fixed on me rather than the menu. “I was just planning on something simple. I don't drink on the first date.”

 

He nodded, smiling, then looked down at the menu.

 

It was only a few moments of silence before Ryan returned. “Have you decided?”

 

Nikolas's gaze turned to me, silently gesturing for me to order first. “I would like a lemonade, please,” I requested.

 

“We have three different kinds: regular, strawberry-kiwi, or raspberry. Which one would you like?” he asked.

 

“Strawberry-kiwi.”

 

He nodded before turning to Nikolas.

 

“I'll have the same,” Nikolas said.

 

Ryan nodded again. “I'll be back with your drinks shortly,” he said before walking off again.

 

Nikolas turned to me after a few moments. “I'm surprised you agreed to meet with me tonight, Danni.”

 

“Why?” I asked, leafing through the menu.

 

“Well, after what unfortunately happened last night at Bavaro's,” he paused, “and that conversation you overheard last night at the cafe.”

 

I looked up, completely shocked that he recognized me. I have gotten used to being one of the few people that don't normally forget faces, while many other people will just look over you and forget you the next moment. It was a definite shock to find someone who remembered me when they only just saw me once, especially under those circumstances. To my horror, he continued.

 

“Damian and I were rather interested in your reaction last night. Not often does another person overhear our conversations…”

 

To my immense relief, Ryan came back with our drinks. “Two strawberry-kiwi lemonades for the two of you,” he said while placing the drinks on the table. “Are you two ready to order, or do you still need a few more moments?”

 

Nikolas looked at me in question. “I'm ready if you are,” I told him.

 

He nodded before ordering. “I would like the chicken parmigiana.”

 

Ryan nodded, writing onto his pad. “Soup or salad?”

 

“Salad.”

 

Ryan turned to me. “And for you?”

 

“The ravioli, please,” I answered.

 

“Marinara or meat sauce?” he asked.

 

“Meat.”

 

“Soup or salad?”

 

“Salad.”

 

Ryan nodded again, closing the pad. “I'll be right back with your salad and garlic knots,” he said, then left for the kitchen.

 

I quickly took a sip from my lemonade, trying to think of what to say to him. “Is that why you asked me to come here? To talk about that?”

 

His face took a different look now, one that was softer and a little more contemplative. “If that were the only reason why I would want to talk to you, I'd have caught you outside of Barnes and Noble this morning. Going out to dinner is too much trouble for that to be my only intention.”

 

“Oh.” I sat back, a little stunned, and feeling the slightest bit of guilt. Now I felt bad for accusing him. “I'm sorry.”

 

“It's alright,” he said softly. “I would be suspicious, too.”

 

We sat there in silence for a few awkward moments. I didn't know what to say to him. I mean, what could I say? Oh, well, the mutilated woman you were talking about oddly has the same name as my dead grandmother. Yeah, even my head didn't like the sound of that, and that's saying something.

 

“So, is that book any good?” Nikolas asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

 

It took a few seconds to figure out what he was talking about. “Oh! Yes, I'm really enjoying it!”

 

He smiled. “What is it about?”

 

“Werewolves,” I answered. “It's really neat, actually. The entire book is written like it's a journal of what really happens, as if werewolves actually do exist. I mean, there's so much information in there, it seems that the author put too much thought into the entire thing.”

 

“So, you like werewolves?” he asked curiously.

 

“Oh, I love them!” I exclaimed. “For some reason, I've always felt, I don't know, sort of drawn to stories about werewolves. I mean, I love the supernatural, but not so much vampires. I've always found them kind of boring. I was really surprised that I found a book about werewolves, since so many fantastical authors choose to center their writings around vampires or witchcraft or something like that.”

 

Nikolas smiled again. “Well, someone leafing through Grisham's books seems like a more realistic person to me.”

 

That made me laugh. “You notice a lot, don't know?” He only smiled, so I continued. “I pretty much read anything. I love Grisham, absolutely adore him, but I don't only read realism. It gets to be too much if all you're reading about it normal everyday lives - even if they are hyped up some. Sometimes, it's best for me to sit down and read a book that in no way could be even close to real life”

 

“That's an interesting view,” he replied. “But, one thing about the supernatural is what keeps it from being real? Have you read Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles?”

 

I was pretty sure I knew where he was headed, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions, so I just played along. “Yeah, some.”

 

“Well, that's told as if vampires really do exist. You know, Lestat and Louis really walking around out there,” he said, taking a quick drink from his lemonade. “But what if it wasn't fiction at all? I mean, who's to say that it really isn't all real, we just don't know about it?”

 

I thought for a moment. Few people have been able to word that particular thought in such a way. “I don't know.” I stopped in thought again. “Well, nothing really. It just seems so…unreal.”

 

“Doesn't that just make it even more believable?” he asked.

 

“Well…yeah, I guess.” I paused. “I've never heard it worded that way before.”

 

Nikolas smiled. “I think about it on and off.” He paused before asking, “Which would you rather be: a vampire or a werewolf?”

 

I sat back and looked at him, smiling. “What is this, twenty questions?”

 

“If you want it to be,” he replied.

 

I chewed on my lip. “I'll play along, as long as I get a turn.”

 

“Of course,” he replied, smiling back at me. “So, which one?”

 

I thought for a moment. “Well…I wouldn't really want to be a vampire, because I couldn't stand killing people in such a personal way. I mean, I can't imagine having to go through and watch their entire lives and all their memories only for me to know that I'm taking them away from their family and friends. So, that's definitely out. But I don't know if I could be a werewolf because they have no control over themselves during the full moon. Instead of being conscious throughout the murder, you wake up to flashes of memory and the sick, horribly feeling as you remember what you felt through the entire time, too.” I paused. Just the thought of either possibility makes me shiver. “But, that reminds me of what this book says. It tells of how a kind of chip was developed that keeps the wolves' sanity. The elders have this chip planted into every werewolf so they can control their desires while in their wolf form.”

 

Nikolas nodded in interest. “That's really interesting. So, if the chip were available, would you be a werewolf?”

 

I smiled. “Yeah, I would. I mean, I could still have a normal life, not kill anyone, and be able to turn into a wolf at free will. I think that would be so neat to do.” I looked at him in curiosity.

 

“Well, what if it were possible that a vampire wouldn't have to completely kill their victim?” he posed. “Say, they only take a little bit of blood and erase the person's memory of that time. Would you still want to be a werewolf?”

 

That made me smile. Always gotta love a man with intellect and a knack for a good debate. “Yeah, I'd still be a werewolf. Wolves by nature travel in packs and have families. Vampires are solitary creatures. I couldn't go being that alone.”

 

Nikolas thought about that one for a moment. “But there always seems to be the exceptions to that.”

 

I shrugged that off. “There's exceptions to everything. But I wouldn't want to be that exception.” I paused, taking a drink from my lemonade. “What about you? Vampire or werewolf?”

 

He laughed. “Well, that's a trick question.”

 

“How so?”

 

“If I choose werewolf, you'll accuse me of copying you, but if I choose vampire, then you'll think that I wouldn't being alone for eternity, which would then lead to you assuming that I have a cold heart.”

 

I smiled. Another point for him. “Smart man,” I replied, making him laugh. “Alright, so, let's say that I won't accuse you of copying, or assume that you have a cold heart, which one would you choose?”

 

He looked at me for a moment, thinking. “Werewolf.”

 

I smiled. “Why?”

 

“I've always thought that werewolves are more powerful than vampires, in certain areas. While vampires do contain certain powers, they can't compete with some of the powers werewolves hold. A mad werewolf is always portrayed as powerful and dangerous,” he answered.

 

“But vampires are always portrayed closely with fear and death,” I argued.

 

He straightened up, getting himself ready for this debate. “But more controlled. A mad werewolf is something to be feared. You can still try and reason with a vampire. There's still a chance of getting away. With a werewolf, you're pretty much screwed if they want you dead. A werewolf turned mad is a complete monster with absolute power. Just imagine what kind of power it would have sane.”

 

“So you're power-hungry?”

 

“Not exactly power-hungry, but I would want to be able to be in control, and power enables that.” He smiled. “But, that's not the most important thing.”

 

I caught a part of his implication. “Alright then, what's the real reason for choosing a werewolf?”

 

His smile widened. “So I wouldn't be your enemy.”

 

I laughed. “Oh, so you're more of the playboy, aren't you? You know, say whatever's going to make her smile so she'll take you home.”

 

He laughed. “Is it working?”

 

“Not really,” I replied, laughing as well.

 

“I hoped not,” he replied, his eyes suddenly serious.

 

That caught me, but Ryan came up with our salad and garlic knots, delaying my response. “Having a good time, I hope?” he asked.

 

“Of course.”

 

Ryan smiled at both of us as he set down the bowls. “I'm glad you are enjoying your evening.” He added parmesan to our salad before leaving again to tend to another table.

 

“So, why would you hope it wasn't working?” I asked after we each tried the garlic knots and started on the salad.

 

He thought for a moment, then looked at me. “Well, I was just hoping there was more to you than that.”

 

The rest of the dinner went very well. Our conversations remained light and humorous, drifting from one subject to the other. By the end of the evening, I was almost sad to see my time with Nikolas was at an end. I had become rather comfortable with him, which surprised me. I really thought I would still be at least a little suspicious of him.

 

It seemed as if he shared my reluctance to end the evening. “Danni, would you like to go see a movie tonight?”

 

I smiled. “I would like to, but I have something else I must attend to tonight,” I replied.

 

Nikolas seemed curious. “Really? What is it?”

 

“Why?” I asked. “Jealous or something?”

 

“Or something,” he answered, a smile playing at his lips. “I'm just curious as to what else has drawn in your attention.”

 

I smiled. “Okay, I guess I can tell you.” I paused, taking in a deep breath. “Today is the anniversary of my grandfather's death. He died three years ago. I was going to stop by the cemetery and place a few flowers on his grave.”

 

Nikolas gave me a confused look. “You go to a cemetery at night instead of in the middle of the day?”

 

I nodded. “He passed away at night, so I've made it a tradition to stop by then.”

 

He nodded. “And you're not worried about being attacked?”

 

“Actually, I was trying not to think about that,” I answered, my smile faltering.

 

“Would you like me to accompany you?” he asked, rather sincerely.

 

His sincerity is what caught me. It seemed so genuine. Besides, it would be nice to have another person there. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

 

I was sliding into my car about ten minutes later, after arguing about the check with Nikolas. I wanted to pay for my share of the meal, but him being the stubborn gentleman, wouldn't let me. Our argument would have been rather amusing had I not been a part of it. I saw his car drive up to mine, and then we headed off to the cemetery, him following me.

 

It wasn't long before I was closing my door, locking the car, and holding my coat and flowers close to my body, waiting for Nikolas to walk up. We both then walked through the graves until I came up to the one I was looking for.

 

I knelt down in front of the grave stone and laid the flowers onto the white snow next to flowers that had already been placed there that day, most likely by my parents. Nikolas had left me a little while ago to give me some privacy, but promised to stay close and keep me in eyesight.

 

I sat there for a few good minutes, remembering times I had spent with him. So many memories came by, but it's a lot easier to look back on them now than it was a couple years ago. I can remember when I used to run up to his cabin, waiting to hear what story he would tell me next. I would watch him paint pictures of wolves and other animals while telling me all sorts of stories and even some history. I really do miss him, but I'm glad that he's finally at peace.

 

The howling of wolves brought me out of my memories. It was amazing. My grandfather had always loved wolves. They were his favorite animals, although he would never really tell me why. He's the one that introduced me to the world of werewolves. My parents were a little cautious at the beginning, but they had warmed up to the idea over time. The wolves' howls were almost like a tribute to his memory.

 

I slowly stood up, awakening my joints that were already stiff from the cold weather. I smiled once more at the tombstone before I turned around to walk back to my car, and to find Nikolas.

 

However, what I meant to do is not what happened at all. When I turned around, I instantly froze. There, standing maybe fifteen feet away from me was a huge black wolf - my grandfather's favorite. It was beautiful, or so I would've thought if I had not been shaking in fear. I didn't know what to do. There I was, standing in the middle of a cemetery at 10:00 at night with a huge, wild wolf standing in between me and my car.

 

Instinctively, I took a step backwards, almost crushing the flowers I had just laid down. In response, the wolf took a few steps towards me. I backed up more, somehow avoiding the roses at my feet until the back of my knees hit the tombstone. The wolf only followed, getting closer to me.

 

I was confused. Wolves were supposed to be afraid of humans. They weren't supposed to randomly approach a human.

 

Slowly, I stepped around the stone and continued backwards, careful of where I stepped. The wolf only continued to follow me, a little faster and only getting closer. This unnerved me. Without thinking, I turned and sprinted away, just wanting to get away from it.

 

For a few moments, I thought the thing hadn't followed me, that I was safe. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Within moments, the wolf appeared in front of me, forcing me to try and stop, which only sent me sprawling onto the snow. I quickly scrambled backwards, only to watch as it leaped at me, its jaws closing around my right thigh and its canines tearing through my skin.

 

My thigh felt like it was on fire. I threw my head back as a scream erupted from my throat. The jaws clenched harder, tearing through my muscles. My body thrashed around uncontrollably. I could feel my left leg kicking at the wolf, my arms flailing around, grabbing a hold of fur and ripping.

 

Even through the pain that clouded my mind, I heard a sentence come from behind me. “Alright, Nikolas.”

 

The wolf suddenly released my leg and backed up a bit from me, trailing blood on the snow. I instantly tried to scramble away, only to be paralyzed by even more pain shooting from my leg. My hands clamped onto my thigh, unsuccessfully trying numb it. I looked around for the voice that spoke, and suddenly found what I was looking for. Brown eyes glowed through strands of black and blond hair to meet my gaze.

 

“Ryan?” A collision with my head sent me into darkness.