Chapter 1

347 7 0
                                    

This was it. This was where it all started.

The bipedal she-wolf smashed the door down with her shoulder, wood splintering while all that remained swung on its hinges. A musty stench filled her nostrils as dust particles floated about in the early morning sunlight.

The cottage had been abandoned for years. Apparently it was once a family vacation home, but over time, with the real estate market crashing, the family didn't see fit to restore or sell it. Instead they abandoned it and left it to rot.

Loona kicked some of the chipped pieces of wood aside. The doors had been left bolted shut, hence her brutal entrance. The windows were boarded up and the paint on the walls cracked and flaked in numerous places.

The furnishing didn't look that much better, with chairs, tables and love seats left in disarray. There was a thick sheet of dust draped across everything; it had been so long since the last time someone visited.

It hadn't been easy for Loona to find this place. She had to wander around the county sniffing the air while searching her deepest, vaguest memories from when she had been found. Abstract images and shadows of the local landmarks. She had to retrace her steps and remember these odd statues and structures from having once seen them through the thin mesh of a cage.

She padded across the entrance hall and looked around for any familiar objects. Anything that might give her a clue.

The study had been converted into some kind of studio or laboratory. The lab equipment was emptied and cleaned, save for their current samples of dust. Over in the dining room various sheets of paper had been strewn about across the table like a shoddy makeshift tablecloth.

Loona sifted through the loose papers. She couldn't read the handwriting at all. Sloppiest penmanship she had ever seen.

She glanced to the side into the kitchen and she spotted a stairwell that led to a cellar.

As she padded down the steps her tail and the hem of her black trench coat lightly dragged behind her. Her nose twitched. That familiar stink was getting stronger.

The door at the bottom of the stairs had been forced open long ago, its latch broken and now hanging crooked with a missing hinge.

Loona peered inside. The concrete floor, the white-painted brick wall, a cold familiarity rang a sense of alarm in her. She did know this place.

She looked around at the two tables on each side of the room. There too were messes of illegible papers and notebooks, half of them fallen to the floor. She clutched at her coat, realizing she was seeing these things from an adult's perspective now.

Loona leaned back against a table as she struggled to prevent from hyperventilating. She remembered being found here by those folks from animal control. She was only a puppy. She hadn't learned to speak yet. She couldn't explain herself before she was brought to those people...

Loona lurched forward holding her head in both hands. She didn't want to remember, but this was where it started. Before she was made into their research subject and forever classified as neither human nor canine.

She crouched down like she was under attack again, panting as she tried in vain to remind herself that she wasn't in danger anymore. Papers that hung over the tables' edges fell. Loona's ears twitched as something else landed with a heavy thud, snapping her out of her panic attack.

She looked up. On top of the papers was an old leather-bound book.

She picked it up; its binding was slightly cracked along the edges and spine. However its royal blue coloring hadn't faded one bit, nor did its gold leaf decoration lose its luster.

The cover featured an archaic diagram of a crescent moon surrounded by stars.

She gave the book a sniff. It had the strangest odor, like it wasn't made in this world. She wrinkled her nose as she detected hints of smoke, blood and brimstone in this otherworldly cocktail.

However there was another faint smell, one that revived a warm, long forgotten feeling of having once been cradled in someone's arms.

Her nostrils flared as she took in as much of this fragrant thumbprint as she could. This was her key to finding out how she got here.

She tucked the book underneath her arm and darted back up the stairs. She could read it later. First thing she had to do was track that scent.

A Hellhound in Manhattan: Part 1Where stories live. Discover now