Skinwalker

Chapter 19

Next chapter is the last, I promise. 

When the bright morning light began to trickle over the Hargreaves Estate, it felt as though the storm from the night before never happened.

            Uncle Charlie was doing fine and happy, carving a pigeon out of wood.

            Melanie had recovered from her ill turn the night before.

            Clarisse was still feeling queasy but consented to see Dr Andrews and the other Hargreaves doctors.

            But Anwen…

            Victor sat on the edge of his bed, his arms braced on his knees and his hands clasped together as though praying.

            Anwen was in human form again, lying in the middle of the four-poster bed. But her face pale and stark of any colour. Her hands were folded over her middle and the sheets were drawn up to her chest.

            Her expression was… peaceful.

            Victor had been there the whole night and had not slept a wink.

            It was almost midday when a quiet movement made Victor jump and look round.

            Anwen’s emerald green eyes opened once more as she stared up at the canopy of the bed.

            “Annie…?” Victor said, softly and tentatively.

            Anwen looked at him, bemused as she began to recall all that had happened.

            “I’m sorry…” he said, kneeling down by the bedside, his head bowed, “I’m so sorry, Annie- I never wanted this… I know I can’t possibly ask you to forgive me… just… please… don’t hate me.”

“What… am I?” she asked quietly.

            Victor swallowed, “You… You’re a Skinwalker now… What people have been calling the family curse since the middle ages… We… we’re shapeshifters. Like the werewolf legends, but we change into something more… monstrous.”

            Anwen sat up and winced- her bones aching from the change.

            Victor didn’t even dare to look at her, bracing himself… though he knew it would be impossible.

            “How long… how long have I been stuck like that?”

            “Today’s the sixteenth day.”

            “Sixteen days…? Mum- Yvonne and Alex…” she said, remembering at once. They must be worried sick about her.

            At once, Anwen threw back the covers and got to her feet hurriedly, almost falling over.

            She ran to the door and Victor didn’t know what to do.

            He couldn’t stop her, nor did he want her to disappear from his life.

            “Annie- please-“

            Anwen stopped, her hand on the door handle. She looked at him and he at her.

            “I… I can’t…” she said softly.

            Victor felt as though his heart was being ripped out of his chest- the pain more unbearable than anything he had ever experienced.