LEGEND OF THE LAST WEREWOLF 2

CHAPTER THREE

A TRAGIC STORY
PART ONE
SEBASTIAN

My story...
And exactly what was my story. I sat in Andrews kitchen. Watching, listening. As the four of us agreed and disagreed about the visions I once shared with Andrew Black. Yes, shared. The visions bad stopped. As soon as I reached the border of the Black mansion everything had stopped. The pain, the emptiness, the visions. It was if I stepped into a new world. As if I was given another chance. To change things or to have a better life perhaps. To live my life to the fullest.
To become old, if that was possible...
See I had a secret. A secret I was about to tell everyone. But I haven't as yet. Not only am I a man made abomination, im a 145 year old man man abomination.
There I thought of it again. I was 145 years old, in the body of a 22 year old college going boy. And that's exactly what I was. What I thought I was. The day I left home.

"Your awfully quiet." Andrew said.
"I'm just thinking."
"You should go on with your story now." Hylla suggested. "So I know how you found us, your part about being connected to Andrew. What else?"
"well...it all started..."

120 SOMETHING YEARS AGO
"You got everything you need hun?"
"Yeah, thanks mom." I muttered, throwing the rest of my begs onto the back seat of my dads beaten down ford.
It was finally here, I was going in late. But later then never. I finally saved up enough to go to college.
I knew I was leaving for college the moment I got the letter in the post box. The excited had built up. I was ready. Nevermind the fact I would be older. I would be cooler. I had my Id, my passport and my bags.
Mum offered to to drop me at the airport, a few days after today. But I said no. The beaten down ford would be taking me. Couple days journey it would be. But I needed the time to think.
Ever since I lost dad to the war, I had this breaking feeling inside me. And now more then ever it ached.
The summer before he left he gifted me his car for my 16th birthday and that was the last of him.

Tragic, the neighbors would say. "None of the men in that family lived to see their 50s."
I was determined to make it right. Outlive my life to the fullest. And imagine the look on my mothers face when I didn't return from college that year. When the police had exhausted all means of finding me. When years went on and I haven't shown up. Our linage line had finally died. I had not even lived to see my 30s. I had not lived to marry or have kids of my own. A son perhaps, to carry our family name. The Ruiz' line had ended with me. The point is, I though I was finished for. There's no sense of rushing to the end of the story so fast. Let's start at the beginning.

I loaded the last of my boxes into the back seat of the beaten down ford. Kissing mum goodbye, I let out a little smile and hoped into the front seat. Turning on the engine I let down the window and waited a bit.
"I'll miss you mom." I said smiling at her.
"Make me proud son." she said, blowing another kiss my way.
I smiled one time time, taking a good long look at the house before driving of down the road. I wouldn't be back until the end of the year. The money was just not enough. I'd spend my entire year on campus and after the year was done I would come home for the new year.
As I left I already felt the pain starting to grow inside me. The longing for home. I knew I would miss my mom dearly. There was no turning back now.
I pulled onto the highway. A steady glow of cars zooming past on either said.
Suddenly I noticed a man in a black suv driving what seemed to be over the speed limit. He zig zaged, between lanes as if he were drank, or maybe he just lost control of his car. I looked in the review mirror, watching as he neared me from the back. Turning I looked out my window, the water from the lake below glistening in the afternoon sunshine... Cars honking continually, making my heart pound inside my chest. Looking over my shoulder once again, I gasped in shock as he came straight towards me. I let go of the steering wheel and in that moment, I hadn't thought a thing.
I just knew in my heart my life was over. It happened so fast yet at the time it seemed to be in slow motion. As the he crashed into me, the beaten down ford starting to spin in circles. Closer and closer to the edge I went. Banging hard against the metal barrier. I closed my eyes shut, as the car wildly glided of the side of the highway before plunging into the water.

I could feel the water rising in the car as it began to sink. Both doors had being smashed down. I tried hopelessly to kick against the window but nothing happened. Soon the entire car was submerged and I was holding my breath. I could feel the water fill my lungs as I gasped for the little air that was left. I was trying to find a way to escape. It was probably mere minutes, but to me it felt as a eternity of suffering.
I finally gave in, I closed my eyes as my body slowly accepted the face of death.

A faint buzzing noise could be heard in the far background. The strong dense smell of iron and blood in the hair. But something other then that whiffed around. The smell of some sort of chemical.
Each time a gust of wind passed by me, I got the scent of the chemical again. Sort of like hand sanitizer, but stronger. As if someone had being drenched in it. Soaked in it for hours.

Phone rings
"Crooks." I heard the old, male voice say. His voice was deep and unclear. His accent that of which I didn't recognise. He huffed. Then the sound of the phone slamming back down.

Phone rings
"Crooks." I heard him say again. This time it was more angrier. Then slamming the phone down again. He huffed.
"If your not gonna talk, then don't bother phoning." he muttered under his breath. I heard the sound of footsteps nearing me. Then again...that strong pungent smell of detergent. I felt his cold hand slide over my chest. Tapping onto my ribcage feircly he groaned.
"Bullshit this one is."
"What's wrong with this one?" another voice said. Again...footsteps nearing me. This time it was different. The smell that came rushing up my nostrils wasn't detergent. It was blood. Rich, thick smell of  blood.
"He should have woken days ago." the first man said.
"Want to throw him out?"
"Not just yet lenord." He muttered.
"Oh pleasee!" he begged. "You know how much I love chopping bodies up father."
"I said not JUST YET!" He shouted back.

My eyes opened in a shock. I sat up immediately. Noticing my clothes had being removed. All that was left was a red and black pair of shorts, the one I had put on the this morning, when I left home for campus.
"Where am I?" I groaned. "What place is this?"
"Please sit back." the man said. Pressing his cold hand on my chest.
I looked up. The bright lights from, hovering over me. The dirty walls. I tilted my head. With one glance my heart had began pounding. The blood stained concrete floors, where covered in little pieces of flesh, broken bones and lose teeth. I noticed a sack of tools laying in the corner of the room near a wooden desk.
Looking at the calendar on the wall, I saw March.
"what month is it?" I asked.
"March 28th." the man replied, still examining me with his tools, some of which were rusted.
"How long have I being here?" I fussed, moving my arms and legs as he held them down. Fasting them to the metal bed frame with duck tape.
"Stop fussing." he warned. "Or im gonna feed you to lenord."

I swallowed hard. Unable to think what we happening.
I was in a strange place. Months had passed. I opened my mouth to speak again as I felt a sharp object entering my thigh.
I shreiked out in pain before passing out.