From Angels to Demons (gxg)

3

Phoebe clutched the side of the car, nausea pooling in the pit of her stomach.

It wasn't real. None of it was real. It couldn't be real. This was just some sick joke. A prank, maybe even a dream.

Overhead, great trees loomed. They shaded the old dirt road from the fat drops of rain that were beginning to spill from the clouds. The rental was speeding along at steady space, her dad at the steering wheel. 

Dad. Oh fuck, Dad. She still hear the crunching of his bones, still picture the thick dark fur sprouting from his pores until an unfamiliar monstrous face snarled up at her.

And then there was her own transformation- the unbelievable pain, so intense and mind numbing her nerves couldn't even relay the information. And then there was that being, that wolf, that was now preoccupying part of her brain, and it wouldn't leave.

Phoebe squeezed her eyes shut. It was just a dream. That's right, a dream. Tomorrow, she would wake up, roll out of bed, and laugh at how scared she was over a silly dream. The wolf in her head howled at what she thought was a laugh. 

The breaks squealed, and the old car pulled to a stop in what looked like the middle of nowhere. 

Her dad flashed her a smile. He opened his door, and stepped out into the frigid northern air. 

The landscape was unfamiliar to her, the trees clustered together and the foliage so dense you couldn't see 3 meters in front of you. 

Phoebe took a deep breath and let it go steadily. She pushed her door open and tried to stretch her legs. The six hour drive, through the ferry and up into the northern part of England, had been hell. Six hours of tense silence. Tears pricked at her eyes. She pushed the feeling down, breathing deeply and moving toward the trunk of the car where her dad was. 

"I know this is a lot to take in, love," he said, pulling out her duffel bag and handing it to her, "but ya' know I only want the best for ya' right? I wouldn't do this if I didn't think it would be good fer ya'."

Phoebe tried to be understanding, she really did, but all she could think about was rows of wolfish teeth spilling out over purple gums. And then, God, he'd lied to her! Her entire life he'd concealed... what they were from her, not even given her time to prepare for that traumatic night.

"Ya' gonna have lots o' fun, love, promise," He smiled then, and Phoebe shivered. 

Rain rolled down her neck, and her dad ambled over to the tree line, bending over and beginning to scan the forest floor.

"Pappy?" Phoebe called,"... what're you doing?"

He picked up a stick, and poked at a pile of leaves with it, "'know it's round here somewhere... where are ya' wee bugga'?" 

Phoebe glanced around nervously as she began to genuinely worry for her dad's sanity. The rain was coming down harder now, hitting the windshield of their car in slapping sheets. 

"Aha!" Her dad exclaimed. Phoebe whipped her head in his direction. 

He held up a small stone, turning to her with a smile. Phoebe could make out a small concave half-moon shape messily engraved into the flattest edge of the rock. 

He reached a hand into his collar and pulled out a necklace he had worn for as long as she could remember. Grabbing the small crescent-like pendant, he fit it in into the stone. The stone flashed a bright blue, then a doorway opened in between the trunks of two trees. 

Phoebe approached the tree line, clutching her duffel close and peering through the odd doorway. The cluster of trees inside looked exactly the same, only livelier, brighter, and more vibrant somehow.