Howl

Chapter 2

Cold.

Why was my bedroom so cold?

I stirred, and then remembering that I wasn't in my bedroom, I opened my eyes entirely. 

I was still in the alley, alone, but this time I was splayed out on the ground. My arm extravasated a syrupy, crimson substance, and I was aching so fiercely that I wasn't sure if I could stand. 

I struggled to my feet, leaning against a wall for support. Another frigid breeze swept by, so gelid that it hurt to inhale. 

Green eyes still penetrated my mind as I pulled out my cellphone with shaky hands. How the hell was I still alive? 

Why didn't it kill me? 

I didn't bother calling Alfred, so I punched in the cab's number instead.

''This is the Green Cabby & Company, how may I help you?'' asked a high, feminine voice over the line. 

''Are there any r-rides available?'' I stuttered, licking my chapped lips. 

She asked where my current location was. I wasn't thinking straight, so it took me awhile to find a street sign. She asked a few more questions before hanging up. 

I should've been calling the hospital instead, or my parents, like any other normal girl would do.

But all I wanted was to go home. And strangely, I was starting to feel better... or that could be the giddiness getting to me. 

I had removed my cardigan, swathing it around my injured arm in an attempt to repress the blood. I realized how unperturbed I might've seemed to anyone else. I was assaulted by a wild animal, after all. 

Suddenly, it all clicked. It wasn't something that I had been able to discern before, but then it hit me with shocking recognition. 

The wild animal was a wolf. I had only seen a wolf once in my life, and that was during a trip at the Yellowstone National Park. My memories as a twelve-year-old were vague, but it couldn't have been anything else. 

I would've been happy for discovering this on my own, except that it sounded completely illogical. What would a wolf be doing in New Hampshire of all places? I wasn't an expert, but not a lot of them inherited green eyes, if any. 

And for one to attack like that... it had to be rabid. 

Oh god, I could have rabies. 

My night just kept getting worse and worse.

--- 

It took ages for the cab to arrive. So when it finally did, I could've expressed my joy in the most euphoric way possible, but at that point I was too numb to care.

''Miss? Are you okay?''

The driver had rolled down the window to speak to me, staring at my blood-soaked arm in horror. He looked a lot like Alfred, with white hair and leathered skin. 

''Fine,'' I croaked. ''Just a scratch.''

Very funny, Allen. I wasn't gifted at lying, so I never bothered in doing so, but I did slip up occasionally. It wasn't something that could go unnoticed, either--- my so-called ''slip ups'' were the equivalent of face-planting in a pile of bullshit. 

The driver frowned, obviously not buying it, but he didn't question any further. 

I dropped into the backseat, biting my lip to keep from moaning in pleasure. The heater had been running for awhile, so the cab was nice and toasty. My skin stung from the sudden warmth, but it only took a few minutes to adjust. 

The driver switched on the radio, where a saccharine love song filled the silence of the cab. My eyes fluttered as I fought the urge to sleep, pressing my back deeper into the abraded upholstery. Maybe if I just closed them for a moment or so...