Meanwhile, in the dark, obviously mysterious and unknown location of the bad wolf's lair:
"The werewolf population has taken a huge hit," Grim, the bad wolf's messenger spoke.
Broad arms crossed behind his boss' back, and he sniffed the air. "Uh huh."
"Pockets of gangs keep disappearing and even our inventory has been breached."
Isaac turned his back to Messenger Grim, staring across the tall windows, gaze sweeping over the blinking car lights racing below and the towers that failed to reach the height and beauty of his glass tower. "What did the thief take?" His voice remained cool unlike his hands that clenched into fists.
Messenger Grim cleared his throat. "Nothing, sir."
He brought his brows together, the gears in his mind churning to find a reason for a breach. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, sir. We double checked all the inventory and the numbers were the same from yesterday's shipping."
"So they broke into our most secure inventory system which must've taken intense and complex planning, and stole nothing? Everything in that room was left how it was?" The messenger stayed quiet, and Isaac clenched his fists even tighter. "Well?!"
"The thief took the guards."
Isaac twisted around. "We had fifty men secure that perimeter that night. How could a single thief take fifty armed, highly trained werewolves? What would they even do with that many? Commence a sacrificial act?"
Messenger Grim shuffled one foot to the side, averting his eyes to the floor. "They didn't leave a trace of blood or hair either. Some gangs have theories though..."
"What theories?" he snapped.
"I don't believe in rumors, especially ones that are passed around towns, but apparently..."
Isaac cracked his jaw and growled, leaning closer into the messenger to smell his fear. "Apparently?"
"The thief eats them."
Isaac smacked his hand across his table, sweeping off the papers that fluttered through the air. "All fifty? Do you think I'm an idiot?! Unless you're telling me a giant fe-fi-fo-thumbed their way into our inventory, swallowed fifty armed werewolves whole, and quietly left without making a single sound, you must think I'm delusional."
"I'm just reporting what I heard, sir."
He hissed, and stepped backwards with a shake of his head. "Impossible. No one eats werewolves."
"It's not just us taking a hit on declining pack members. From the south and east, all types of werewolf gangs."
Isaac sniffed again, this time getting a whiff of the messenger's sweat. Or maybe it was his?
"No vampire gangs or fae gangs have been affected. It seems a bit...odd, don't you think?" Messenger Grim asked.
He snorted and reached for the gun he kept clipped under his desk. "I guess our thief has a specific taste."
+++
Back in Alice's house where she will now stop talking in third person...
Although third person does sound very appealing... Wait, wait, I don't want to confuse you. Are you there Satan? It's me, Alice. Let's stick to first person.
"Sleep tight my love bugs!" I called from the bottom the staircase.
Sandy already disappeared upstairs to his room at around ten o'clock, still believing in the myth of beauty sleep.
YOU ARE READING
She Owns Him
AdventureA chosen eighty-year-old chainsmoker armed with stab-tastic knitting needles and a metallic cane must be trained by Alice-a mysterious teenage girl-to complete her prophecy and save Earth. While this old prophet is close to completing her destiny, h...