Lycanthrope

Chapter 5

When I woke it was to a continuous knocking. I opened my eyes and stretched, immediately regretting it when my ribs screamed at me. The door creaked slightly as it opened, my hand grasped for my gun, instinctively switching off the safety and pointing it at the intruder.

An elderly man, with a full head of white hair and aged skin, walked airily into the room with a smile on his face and a brown case in hand; it was like he didn't even notice the gun pointed at him.

"Now now dear, don't be pointing that thing at me when I mean you no harm." He had a slight drawl to his voice, like that of a farmer, but it was warm in its timber tones. The man ambled over, swinging the door shut behind him then stopped at my side to set the case on the edge of the bed. He raised a particularly fluffy brow at me, "The recoil from that would sure hurt your ribs." He said disapprovingly, gently placing his hand on the gun and pushing it away. I looked at him confusedly, his eyes glinted knowingly. I put the gun down to my side.

"Now then, I'm Doctor Fred, Fredrick if you want to be formal." He chuckled to himself, now searching through the contents of the case. "Joseph tells me you had a scuffle with some vampires, got pretty roughed up didn't you?" he teased, whilst pulling out a blue pack and slapping on his hands, he passed it to me with instruction to put it in my lip- which by now I'm sure looked as swollen and bruised as it felt. The icepack cooled down my skin until the throb became a numb ache.

"As did they." I replied.

He laughed at my disdainful emphasis. "I'm sure you gave them hell. Right off with that shirt." He said now holding a reel of bandages.

"Excuse me?" I looked at him aghast, having visions of Edwick. He rolled his eyes at me.

"Your ribs, my dear, by the way your sat I can tell I need to bandage them soon. Don't be shy now; I've seen everything out there from scars, cysts and an extra nipple a couple times."

I made an 'o' in realisation.
I put the icepack down to lift my shirt off, I was wearing a bra underneath anyway and this old man didn't seem like a threat at all, nevertheless I'd had to wear less in company before.

Fred let out a whistle, his eyebrows ascending up his forehead. I looked, for the first time myself, at the blue black mark on my torso it looked fairly unsightly but not the worst outcome from many.

Fred came closer, with surprisingly hot hands poked and prodded at the skin occasionally mumbling under his breath or apologising when he hit a particularly tender spot.

"Put your arms up in front of you, we'll have to get the good stuff on this." He turned back to his case and pulled out a pot of unfamiliar cream of sorts as he unscrewed the cap a tangy smell just on the other side of spoiled swam about the air.

"What is this 'good stuff'?" I asked, trying to breathe a little lighter but also starting to relax in his presence and willing the flow of our idle chatter.

"Werewolf speciality, top secret I'm afraid." Fred tapped the side of his nose in a 'hush hush' action. Once again he leaned over prodded around some more before he started to apply the cold viscous liquid along my side. We continued rambling between ourselves as he bandaged me up, I learned he had a mate called Martha and three children, already grown with children and partners of their own, he seemed to have had a good life despite the interference of the war, in which he had served as an army doctor, he even gloated about his good looks back in the day.

I could tell he was a soul that could get on with anyone.

When he was finished he left with instruction to keep hydrated and not to do anything too strenuous, then bid me a good day.