"People don't really fear the darkness, they fear what's lurking in it."
SPES
I'VE BEEN SHOT.
There's an intense searing pain in my right shoulder which wouldn't be one of my biggest problems if I wasn't on the run right now. So I have no other choice but to ignore my need to rest and cure my shot. They can't get me again.
No, I'd rather die in with this not-so-fatal wound than have them destroy me again.
This wound should be healing, if only I had the time to stop and pluck the silver bullet out. Silver kills werewolves when it is a direct shot to the heart or head. But it doesn't mean that it's less painful.
The footsteps are getting closer and closer now. I have to have faith that this miserable body is going to hold up 'til I find a safe-- no, there's no such thing-- a place better than the streets. It would have been better if I could shift to my wolf but for the sake of these humans chasing me, I can't.
Funny, I was thinking their sake and they are going to stop at nothing just to kill me.
My limbs are starting to beg me to slow down and rest. My lungs are already heaving too fast but the oxygen is not enough. Just my luck, I think I ended into some kind of village. For the people with deep pockets. A high end subdivision.
Oh no. There's a huge risk in this. Even if I get my pursuers lost in here there's still the risk of being caught by CCTV cameras and patrol guys. And I'm sure as heck they'd knew I'm up to no good. Between my pursuers and the police, I'd pick the latter this time. They'll just imprison me which I'm kind'a used to by now.
But then, I'm just a twelve year old blond girl who inherrited her hair from her dad who was a british soldier from World War I who built his wolf pack here. My dad used to be the best and the strongest I've ever met considering that our wolf pack was full of werewolves who decided to be military men to blend in. Dad was the best until he was murdered.
Anyway, I am honestly thankful for the past three days I haven't washed my hair because it's getting darker. Don't get me wrong I love my hair it's just unconvenient in times like this. I look like someone who's waving a bright yellow flag for those who are chasing me.
I manage soundless walks now. Survey each house and look for an opening. I just need a place to curl up and sleep then I'll be gone the moment the sun cracks the darkness.
Maybe I'll see if I can find water too.
I keep walking for a few minutes and yes! I found it.
A modern designed two story house. The edges and ledges are good footholds which I really like. It's not the first time I sneak into a house like this.
However, I have this stupid bullet wound in my right shoulder. Ugh. I guess I'll just find a way to dangle up there which is what's left for my despair. Just my rotten luck, I hear faint footsteps from somewhere near me. They'd find me if I break down because of this pathetic wound.
I better discover a way to go up there like the prince in a fairy tale I've heard. The only difference is there is a long hair he climbs on. If only Rapunzel was up there to lay down her hair.
Moving on, no time for sentimental stuff. I shove all the memories that came with it in a drawer inside my mind which I open, only, when things
gets too hard.
After tremendous effort of climbing up, I finally reach the balcony. I almost moaned in relief when I saw that the glass sliding door is ajar. I can't stay at the balcony in open because there's a fat chance they'll find me.
I slipped in silently and I quickly collapse on a corner behind a huge vase.
A bell woke me up. There's a slight brush of orange on the sky. I take a moment and observe my surroundings. It's still early and I guess it came from one of this house's alarm clocks. No one in this house is up yet. Good. The bullet's still in my arm. Horrible.
