Screams.
A blood curdling scream echoed through my window, ripped me from my sleep.
Then came the khranitel, the loud, deep horn sounded from the forest. A warning that danger was coming.
I jumped out of bed, my body taken by instinct as I slipped out of my soft, turtle printed pajamas, into thick black leggings, dark grey top and thin but heavy duty jacket. That would make it easier to fight, yet also be strong enough to last a few days trek through the bush, if needed.
I reached under my bed and pulled out my pre-packed emergency bag, that had been stored there for a moment like this.
As I finished tightening the straps across my front my bedroom door flew open, to reveal a man who almost filled the doorway.
"Stasie, are you ready?" He'd asked, keeping his gaze on the window as he reached his arm out to me.
"All set, Dad." I took his hand, and let him lead me out of my bedroom. I looked over my shoulder to the pink walls that were covered in drawings and photos of my best memories, the memories I now need to forget. It's always best not to think of them once we leave, easier to make new memories when not dwelling on the past moments my mother would say.
We rushed away from the bedroom and down the stairway as silently as possible, the khranitel had already passed and screams had began quieted down. Then there was just silence.
Once we reached the landing, dad pulled me to the left and continued past the small sitting room. We continued along the narrow deep green hallway, no time to stop and collect the family portraits that hung on the walls.
As we sped through the dinning room I knocked into one of the four chairs positioned around the small circular table, causing a loud clatter.
Not a word was said as my dad caught a hold of my elbow on my free arm to steady me. His head whipped in every direction, to make sure we were still undetected.
Once he was happy that we were safe for the moment, he gave the slightest nod and released my elbow so we could keep moving.
The moment I stepped into the kitchen, two slim, strong arms grabbed me at the waist, ripping me into their grasp.
"Annie." My mum whispered so lightly I only just heard it.
She wasn't the only one in the room, behind her was her brother, my uncle Derek.
He stepped forward, and reached his hand over mums shoulder to place his thumb in the center of my forehead, before he slid it down the side of my face until it sat just below my cheekbone.
A sign to our people that they have strength and pride in the eyes of the Videniye, the one who 'signs' them.
The older tales say its a sign of protection, an oath to stand as ones protector.
"Be strong." He whispered.
Something about this gesture made me feel a very uneasy, as if something was really wrong this time.
A shuffling outside our kitchen window stopped me from questioning his actions.
Mum released my waist, and placed a hand on my forearm, as we stared out the floral bordered window, waiting for the sound to repeat itself.
We waited for about a minute, and nothing happened.
"We need to keep moving." Dad forced as he hooked a rifle over my shoulder. "Do you have your knives and the spare pistol?"
YOU ARE READING
The last blue orchid
WerewolfAnastasia Patrovic, or Anna Lockheart as she is going by this time around, has been on the run since she was 14, when she watched her family and friends get slaughtered by wolves. They were the Blue Orchids, a powerful magical tribe that originated...