Fortis

Fortis | Tribus

            Fortis pulled his rumbling truck into my neighborhood and parked a few houses down from my own. It was nighttime and the cold air was blowing harshly, but I wasn’t shivering as I should’ve been considering I only wore bloodied jeans and a loose, long-sleeve shirt.

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” he said, gesturing down the road. “Say your good-byes, pack your shit, and go. If you’re not back in five minutes, I’m going for you. I’m a very impatient person.”

Glancing nervously at Fortis, I swallowed and opened the truck’s door. Cold air bit at my exposed skin and my wrapped shoulder, but my body temperature remained neutral. I was taking a wild shot when I wrote it off as a side effect of being a “lycan.” Unconsciously, my eyes skimmed over my hand.

I jogged to my house, only to find that no one was home. My heart sank to my stomach. No, that wasn’t fair. They had to be here! Fortis was forcing me to leave and this was my last chance to ever see them again.

I tried the door, it was unlocked. Mom would never leave the house unlocked, someone had to be here.

The house was dark, only a single lamp illuminated the living room. I called out for my mom, but only my voice echoing through the house met my ears. Tears pricked at my eyes, but my feet dragged me to my bedroom.  

The same mess was sprawled on the carpeted floor, my bed still unmade. A lone tear rolled down my cheek, leaving its wet trail. Maybe I could call the cops, tell them that some strange man wanted to kidnap me. But then, I thought that once Fortis got out of jail, he would search for me and without a doubt end my life.

So with that and falling tears, I grabbed my bookbag and poured out the school related contents. Stuffing random articles of clothing, I skimmed over my book shelf and stacked my favorites, planning on them to take this trip with me. Dragging myself to the wooden desk, my eyes caught the photograph of me and my family.

Sadness washed over me. I would never see them again; my dad, my mommy. The picture was taken just a few weeks ago, at the park. Dad had his arm around Mom’s shoulders and I stood in front of both of them, in the middle while smiling like an idiot.

But the longer I looked at the picture, the more I spotted the small movements. I saw my own eyes blinked in the photo, the breeze made the leaves on the trees sway. The water rippled, Mom’s hair flowed with the wind. Dad looked over at her, still smiling.

I rubbed my eyes, my brows knitted together in utter confusion. When I looked back at the picture, it continued to come to life.

Mom tucked the hair behind her ear, and I started laughing at her. But soon my laugh turned into a cough, my body doubling over. My parents looked at my concerned. My shirt grew visibly tight on my body, then it tore along my spine. Where there should’ve been skin was fur; course, silky fur. I fell to the ground, clutching myself as my body started to morph into a…

A wolf.

 A massive, mutated wolf hybrid.

My parents’ faces turned into one of horror and they started stepping away from me as I shook out my fur, my daggered teeth bearing. I turned to look at them, my wolfish eyes unbelievably black, my haunches raised. Pouncing at them, my teeth sank deeply into my dad’s neck, blood splattering as Mom screamed—

Screaming loudly as a hand landed on my shoulder, I spun around only to find Fortis looking at me strangely. Only then did I realize that I had been shakily crying, my chest sore from the rough sobs that racked through me. Hot, wet tears left trails down my flushed cheeks and I harshly wiped them away.

“What happened?” Fortis questioned, dropping his hand away from my shoulder.

I couldn’t reply, my voice catching in my throat, so I held up the picture. His brow came together as he assessed it.