Try To Best Me Werewolf (Werewolf Story) ~Trailer Inside~

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Chapter 1

Try To Best Me Werewolf (A Werewolf Romance)

** P R E F A C E **

My steps stomped with stealth. Today wearing 4 inch high heeled boots in a lovely shade of an opal black. I walked forward, the leather sculpting the tip of my toes and towards my legs.

Despite the noisy background I hear I try to cope with it as I passed the convicts. A click-clack heard in my step, the click-clacking creating an impression of empowerment. Most importantly, by just the simple tap sounds of the heel it also spell-bounded sexuality and female finesse.

High heels were my best friend, right next to the devil red lipstick in my back pocket.

I loved my job, I loved my work because I was a cop on the prowl.

Yet, I could not shake the sensation of being cold here.

This prison system a place of order, rules and isolation but when living in these enclosed quarters it also brought pitch black distraught. Looking at these rooms was enough proof. This Maximum Security Prison very tight as like any other jail. There was cruel punishment inside and cries amongst its walls.

Our dungeon did not allow an image of light to pierce the gloomy darkness. To even feel the embrace of air whistling in your ears or smell the fresh dew of green grass. The dungeon did not even have windows. Enabling for persistent shadows to go forth and wrap around the prisoners like a tightening fist so tight.

It was excruciating for them.

Even time would come and go as your aimless hands would try to touch something solid. Try by any chance to catch anything in their grip for a chance at freedom. Even though you knew it was hopeless because you would only coupe your hands to feel the very fabric of nothing. Everything of wanting to see, using your senses in order to see the high ceiling of the cell above you would be meaningless. The floor beneath us ruff to the touch.

Prisoners, I could only hear their rhythmic breathing. All of them wanting freedom but only inhaling and exhaling. The only knowledge of them being alive and yet they as well knew they could not escape without security going off.

I caught sight to my left of a man suddenly hunched over. Bending like a hunchback as his frame slumped and his breathing ragged. I knew he could feel the binding. The constriction of blood not running freely because of the cold thick chains encircling his bony wrist's, even his once thick mane of brown hair was now in the present an aging grey of white.

Another criminal was behind the steel bars. Cackling with crazed abandon and the ancient brick walls were the only thing facing face to face on the man's back. It touched his bared but emaciated frame. Clothes were now rags and would forever be a past glory. Laughing manically his voice echoed throughout the prison.

Nevertheless, his high pitch laughter dwindled along with the other voices. The crazed man's name was Rick Calvin. Known as Cannibal Killer and in his document, it stated he was a mass murder and ate his victims.

Finally, I reached over to Jack Chase's cell.

As I came closer, the view of him came into clarity and focus. Intentionally I stared at Jacks direction with a practiced eye but by sheer impulse I looked slow and carefully; roaming at his appearance. Not helping myself but to also focus on the sound effects of my traitorous heart. In my chest and at this moment I hear it pounding rapidly.