The Good Intentions of a Cyborg Werewolf

Followed Me Home - II

Erin woke up on a bed. Not her bed, not in her home. She wore the same outfit from the previous night, minus the jacket. At least she assumed it was the previous night. She couldn't remember much, her head felt clouded, her throat was dry, and her shirt clung to her skin on her left shoulder. She reached up and tugged on it, but didn't see a wound. Her arm was a bit stiff, but she otherwise felt fine. Just tired. She didn't know where she was, but she recalled the previous night. She felt a surge of fear as she recalled the creature, the man, and what happened just before it.

"Morning," a voice came from the foot of the bed. Erin looked down in a panic to see a man, but not the one from last night. This person looked different, and his eyes weren't the same. He also wore glasses, and had short hair beneath a snap brim flat cap. He held a notepad in his hand, which he placed on a nearby table before picking up a glass of water and handing it to her.

"Try and stay calm," he said as he handed her the cup, "you may be dehydrated." Erin accepted. He had the mannerisms of a doctor, but this was no hospital. It was an apartment, cluttered but not untidy, and smelled of dog.

"Where am I?" She asked, trying not to overreact. "Who are you?"

"You're at my place," another voice came from her opposite side. A man stood, a familiar man, so still she hadn't noticed. His hair was dishevelled, he had the beginnings of a messy beard, and he had the weary eyes she noticed before. It was the same man from the park.

"Our place," the bespectacled gentleman said, and the messy man rolled his eyes. The first man turned back to her, "I'm sure you have some questions-"

"Where's Kyle?" Erin asked, "my... my fiancé? He was with me in the park and-"

"He's dead," the second man said. Erin's jaw fell open. She started to remember. Remember everything. The creature, its smell, its putrid breath, the horrible, horrible noise. Tears came before she even started sobbing, and Erin couldn't hold back as she dropped her head into her hands.

"Really, Lucas?" The man with glasses asked. "Just go wait in the kitchen!"

"Whatever," he sighed, then walked out of the room, Erin still weeping as the other man leaned forward.

"I'm very sorry, miss," he said, hands clasped in his lap. "I apologise for my colleague. I'm really very sorry, if there's anything you need..."

"Please," Erin asked, trying to compose herself, "just tell me what happened. What was that thing? What the hell was going on?"

"That's a... complicated answer," the man said. "Would you like something to eat? You may feel sudden cravings."

"What?" She asked.

"Sorry," the man said, offering his hand across the bed. "I'm Doctor Mercer Ray."

"Erin," she said, accepting it. Maybe she was in a hospital after all. Or maybe a veterinarian. If she was attacked by an animal she may have been brought there, but as Mercer helped her out of bed and out of the room it was clear this was not any proper medical facility, but it wasn't quite a normal apartment. It was cluttered, even in contrast to the bedroom, and unlike that room was more unkempt. There was a second bed, a single couch, and a small kitchen where the messy man stood. Across from it was some kind of work station with a computer and technology she didn't recognize. Large machines, things that looked like chemistry equipment, and tools of both the medical and mechanical variety. She now wondered if he wasn't the kind of doctor she thought of, and there was an oddly pungent smell coming from the kitchen.

"What is this place?" She asked, "who are you? You said you were a doctor?"

"I am," Mercer said. "A biochemist, to be precise. Please excuse the mess."