Lessons in Love

Ch 1

      Alexander darted through the tangle of mesh and vines, shouldering his heavy backpack. Escaping his headquarters was complicated, due to the many types of gear and technology, catching stray civilians, or trespasser. But getting into the Flowerew headquarters; a.k.a. Werewolf headquarters was a breeze, at least... breaching their rundown borders.

     A bitter taste filled his mouth when the monitor, clipped to the metal wristband digging into his skin, sent a paralyzing jolt up his arm. It was reminding him that he had to remember what he was sent to do.

     He drifted to the side, moving as silently as he could, imagining himself as a shadow, lurking quietly and unnoticeably. Gritting his teeth he scaled the next crumbling wall, avoiding as many cracks and loose blood red bricks as he could. Leaping onto the other side with a light thump, he slid his hand into his pocket, where a small matchbox lay. Of course everyone used flares now, or safety sparks, they were of course, safer. But he wasn't looking for safety tonight. He had a mission, and with a little hope he could possibly make it out alive.

     His light turquoise eyes glittered in the moonlight, symbolizing his species, or community... Sretfihsepahs; the shapeshifters. He stood up straight and his gaze darted to the right where a dreary eyed couple strolled down the street. His eyes narrowed in disgust, and he shrunk into the shadows, just in case they spotted him. Thankfully he hadn't been caught yet. Quietly he unzipped his bag and teased out a small container; a contact case. The Flowerew community had eyes the color of emeralds; Green. He started to unscrew the top of the case when something made him drop it with a loud clatter.

      A mechanical maneuvering sound drowned him in a sudden panic, and swiftly, he turned around. Without a second thought, he unsheathed his knife and sliced into the gears of the camera. Like slicing through butter. He thought numbly as it's parts fell with a loud thud. He flinched. He couldn't be spotted now! He gasped quietly when he heard footsteps and turned to run. A hand shot out and snagged him by the shoulders, luring him in like a captured fish. He struggled ferociously, and stopped cold when a harsh voice whispered in his ear. "Where do you think you're going..." He struggled again, this time driving the knife, still clenched tightly in his grip, into his capturer's hand. It yelped loudly and snarled. He felt it's grip loosen on his shoulders and he slipped from it's grasp, scrambling away. It attempted one last wild grab, but he slipped away, silently trudging through the darkness of the night.