Imperfect Life: Arc 7

Chapter 4

Crys shuffled around in bed, uncomfortable. She slowly stirred awake. It was the middle of the night, probably one or two in the morning, though she didn't know that. She just slowly sat herself up and went to reach for her phone on the nightstand, but as she did, she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye and she froze up. All she could do was slowly move herself back to just sitting upright and staring ahead at what she had seen.

There, directly ahead of her, was a chair sitting by one of the windows in her room. On its own, that was completely normal, but what wasn't normal was the person sitting in it, relaxed but still somehow dead serious as well. He was just sitting there, and his presence was menacing. In his left hand, he held an apple. In his right hand, he held what looked like a futuristic gun, sleek and monochrome. He was dressed fully in black, in what looked like a cross between a sleek uniform and a professional suit. His hair, similarly, was dark in coloration, slicked back flatly. He was clearly older, probably about as old as Tomas' dad was. Maybe a little younger. Crys couldn't tell for certain.

Crys didn't say a word. What exactly should she say in a situation like this? She had a gun-thing pointed at her by a stranger who had broken into her room in the middle of the night.

In her place, the man spoke up. "Good morning, Crystal." He said in a calm voice, smooth as could be. He had a firmness to his voice even though it was calm. "Or, do you prefer your other title, The Werewolf?"

"Who are you?" Crys asked carefully. She was scared, but the look on her face said otherwise. She was also furious as could be, and that was mostly what was being portrayed.

"Nothing but a bad dream, for the moment." Replied the man.

Crys shuffled around a little, thinking of getting out of bed and trying to knock out the man.

"I wouldn't do that." The man replied. He held the gun thing up a little bit higher.

Crys stopped moving altogether. All she could do was sit and wait, and hope that maybe, just maybe, this man really was just a bad dream.

The man turned the gun slowly to point the apple he was holding. As he pulled the trigger, the flesh of the apple started to burn. It wasn't on fire, but the flesh was rotting away. A colored beam of light could barely be made out coming from the gun. After a few seconds, the man stopped the gun and pointed it back at Crys. He placed the apple on the armrest of the chair and took his hand back from it.

Crys didn't say a word.

The man spoke up again after a moment. "I'll tell you this once, and only once, since I am feeling generous. Do not underestimate me." He said.

Crys looked at the gun, then back at the man. She was trying to figure out if there was any way for her to somehow disarm him. Maybe she could throw something? Maybe if she were to run fast enough she could-

The man gave a soft chuckle.

Crys snapped out of her thinking.

"I can see you trying to work things out." The man said. "I've heard you're a clever werewolf, but you know, among lycanthropes, accidents are unfortunately common. They think that their lycanthropy allows them to do such great things, but then, they wind up learning the hard way that they can't do everything." The man knocked the apple off the armrest of the chair. The apple landed on the faux-wood floor with a light thud. "And we wouldn't want any accidents, would we, Crystal?"

Crys pondered for a moment. The message the man was sending her was clear. "Why are you here?" She asked.

The man narrowed his dark eyes slightly and crossed one leg over the other, getting more comfortable. A very faint grin formed on his face. "Because of you." He said, with some menace to his tone. "You've been gaining quite the reputation. We don't tolerate any lycanthropes getting too popular. It's unhealthy."

"So why now? Why not sooner?" Crys asked in return with some sass to her tone, but not enough to lose her serious exterior.

"He tried to keep you from us." The man replied. "It doesn't matter, though. He couldn't keep you safe forever. I took charge, and now I am here to take care of things."

"Who's 'he'?" Crys asked.

"He doesn't matter. All that matters now is you, and me." The man said.

"What do you want?" Crys asked.

"You'll see in due time." The man replied.

Crys sneered. She didn't like these kinds of games.

The man grinned. "I'll tell you this, at the very least." He said. "I want to know what makes you tick. A girl nearly slaughtered in the forest, a bloody mess on the verge of death, becomes a lycanthrope. Now that girl is running around a city night after night, fighting people and sticking her snout where she shouldn't. How very interesting."

Crys' serious exterior cracked for only a moment when the man mentioned her being attacked in the forest. She could still vividly remember that night and all the suffering that she had experienced. "I go around helping people." She said with an edge to her tone, trying to keep her anger from taking over.

"Yes, how very interesting you should mention that." The man replied, still calm as could be. "You've helped out quite a bit, haven't you? You've killed both the corrupt CEO who wanted to take control of everything as well as that psychopathic lycanthrope who murdered countless innocents."

Crys flinched.

The man reoriented himself in the chair and leaned forward to stare more intensely at Crys. "How is it that a high-schooler managed to kill not only one of the most well protected sociopaths in the public eye as well as one of the most vicious animals that not even our own men could kill?" The man asked, letting a slight bit of emotion into his question. It was the only time his calm demeanor slipped.

Crys couldn't keep her serious face any longer. Her expression bled away to show nothing but terror. She could vividly see that other werewolf on the rooftop of the tower. She could see herself looking over the ledge and seeing the werewolf's body impaled on the metal spire. She could remember the tense moments that felt like ages as she clutched her ears as tight as she could, trying to drown out the horrible sounds that werewolf made. Crys fought to push her thoughts aside as best she could, then she stared back at the man with as much strength as she could muster.

The man waited for a moment, and once he realized Crys wasn't going to speak up, he sat back in the chair and relaxed again. "Very well." He said, calm as ever. "You wanted to know something, and now you do. It's unfortunate you couldn't answer. Perhaps the next time."

"What do you want from me!?" Crys grumbled, trying her best to keep herself from flat out screaming.

"Soon enough, werewolf. You'll see soon enough." The man replied.

Crys was seriously debating trying to leap from her bed as fast as she could to try and take down the man right then. She didn't care much about his weapon at this point. She was too angry.

The man smiled. "Good night, werewolf. Don't let the bedbugs bite..." He said.

Crys suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion crash into her. It was like a weight was just dropped onto her. She fought to stay awake, but after only a handful of seconds, she was out cold, laying back in her bed.

Crys woke up the next morning terrified. She bolted upright in her bed and looked around. There was nothing out of the ordinary in her room. No one was in the chair. Nothing was out of place. There was no apple on the floor. She was alone, and she had no evidence that what had happened last night was even real.