Super

27 - My First Thought? Throw Soap At It

DISCLAIMER: I HAVE BEEN TO ICELAND!!!! Hi guys, just thought I'd let you know that I've actually been to Iceland. Yes, I know it's Greenland that is icy, but Iceland ALSO HAS SNOW. This chapter takes place during the winter time (right around the time I went to Iceland) and where I went (North-ish) had a lot of snow and ice. Keep in mind as well that this is Annie and she's exaggerating everything. I know it's not a tundra, but Annie is overdramatic and that's why she calls it that. Thank you so much for your feedback in trying to help make this story more accurate (I really do appreciate it) but EVERY place that I mention in this story (i.e. Istanbul, Iceland, London, etc.) I have either been to and/or lived in.

"Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, she became a butterfly."

– Barbara Haines Howett

My first thought? Throw soap at it. Apparently.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I reached into Ciaran's pocket, pulled out the bar of lavender soap from the Grand Bazaar - which was, by the way, coated with lint from his pocket (totally called it) - and chucked it straight at the growling wolf who was salivating like the coyote from The Road Runner Show.

For a beautiful second, the wolf was stunned into silence. Even the other pack members fell silent and seemed to exchange confused looks. It didn't last long, though. Already, this wolf – let's call him Rufus – was shaking out its muzzle and glaring at me. All the soap seemed to do was piss Rufus off further. In hindsight, I probably should have anticipated that.

From next to me, a small groan escaped Ciaran's lips. I gasped with relief, casting a look down to the unconscious super whose eyelids fluttered, slowly, but surely. His lips were parted a little and colour was gradually flooding his cheeks. He was waking up!

Unfortunately, despite his semi-sophisticated name, I highly doubted Rufus was polite enough to wait for Ciaran to wake up before he maimed me.

"Seriously," I sighed, "what's the point of having supers if they're never around when you need them?"

"You really gotta stop saying that right before I save your ass," a raspy voice grumbled next to me and I gasped again, so happy he was awake that I threw my arms around his neck, momentarily forgetting how pissed I was supposed to be at him. Less amused, however, Rufus only cocked his head and snarled louder.

"Alright, don't get your tail in a twist," Ciaran grumbled, "I'm really not a morning person."

"It's, like, midnight," I deadpanned.

"Which, as I recall, is in the morning," Ciaran sassed back as he slowly got to his feet, dusting off his shirt and shaking snow out of his hair. Rufus just looked back and forth between the two of us, stealthily inching forward like the ninja wolf he was. Less than a few feet away, his pack circled us, panting hungrily as I glanced anxiously at Ciaran.

That's when Rufus lunged.

Everything after that seemed to simultaneously slow down and speed up as a sharp scream pierced the night air, popping my ear drums as the temperature seemed to drop another ten degrees. Ciaran rolled his eyes at me - yeah, as it turns out, I was the one screaming - and looked hard at the wolf, who stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening as an agonising howl rang out louder than my own cries. I stopped screaming to look at Rufus in confusion, who, by now, had dropped to the snowy ground, writhing in what appeared to be pain.

I stared in a mixture of horror, disgust, and awe as Rufus slowly started to smoke and the smell of burnt meat filled the winter air. Even the snow around him was melting into a black puddle as Rufus's body disintegrated into only bones. The other wolves began backing away slowly, sniffing anxiously at the air and wondering where their pack leader could have gone.