Mean Werewolves

Chapter 61: Looking For Her

Narrator's POV

Feeling weak, Camila was slowly getting her consciousness back. She smelled that strange smell was familiar. She recognized that strange scent that could be found at certain corners of the city, especially around the full moon night. It was familiar and even more intense than Camila ever scented in her lifetime. She slowly opened her eyes and found herself in some kind of prison when she saw the iron bars surrounding her. It was not dirty or degraded but dimly lighted and to the vibe of an insane asylum. Camila was shocked when the sound of a man coughing broke the silence.

Lying on the floor, Camila looked in the direction where the man was. She saw a skinny man in his late fifties or early sixties across her cell. When she wanted to get up, she found herself chained and in the same clothes she wore when she left the training center. She did not see her bag, and she remembered her blue beanie fell off as someone snatched her out of nowhere. At this point, Camila realized she had been kidnapped and taken to this cell. She did not know where she was. She did not know who kidnapped her. She only knew that she did not like this place. It was dark, smelled strange, and quiet, too quiet for her like, even though she loved being quiet.

Camila struggled to sit up, but she managed after trying a few times. She moved closer to the door and looked around. There were eleven cells in total: five on her side, five others on the other side, and one bigger one by the end of this place. Camila looked at three cells in her sight, the cells where she could see the occupants. The one across her was the old man who coughed earlier. Next to the old man was a young man in his early thirties. At the end of the prison, which was on her left side, she saw an old lady sleeping in that bigger cell.

Camila's tears fell as she was scared. Not knowing where she was, who took her here, and what they wanted made Camila horrified. She shook her head, crying when she saw the condition of the people in the room, thinking she was going to end up like them: weak, sick, helpless, and with misery in their eyes. They were alive, but they were dead inside, even dying. Camila sat in the corner, curling up, and sobbing quietly.

"What have you done? young lady?" The old man across her asked with his hoarse voice.

Camila looked at the old man in fear. She did not know how to answer him.

"What is this place?" Camila asked in her crying, shaking voice.

"I don't know..." He said and laid on his back. He closed his eyes and ignored Camila. He coughed again.

Camila looked at the man next to the old man, thinking he might share some information. Unfortunately, he just looked at Camila with his sad eyes behind his glasses. Camila felt hopeless. She did not know what to say. She knew she was in prison. She also knew it was not a jail or prison where the police put the criminals. She would have known where she was and why they took her if she had been taken here by police.

The man in glasses finally spoke. "are you a journalist?"

"Nah, she is not." The old man answered instead of Camila.

"We don't know what we did wrong to deserve this place, but it doesn't mean we are the bad guys." The man in glasses said.

Camila said nothing and just listened to them. Her eyes were still wet but she had stopped crying. She looked at them again. She could tell that the odd man was a hybrid. The man in the glasses was a human being. She looked to her left side to the woman in the last cell, who said nothing with her eyes closed. She could not tell whether she was a hybrid or a human. She heard sounds and voices, coming from other cells, but could not see them. She did not know why she was here, but she knew many kinds of beings were in this prison.