The Taking

Chapter 8

"Oh-my-God, Oh-my-God." I repeated for like the hundredth time.

The gigantic beast--or should I say Greyson--barked as if snapping at me to shut up. My lips pressed together and I flattened my ass to the ground.

Standing on all four paws, he walked closer, maniacally like a dark looming figure.

"Stay. Sit. Stop. Heel!" I cried out a list of commands, while blocking my face with my hands and peeping through my shaking fingers.

He snorted, ignoring me. His beastly form sluggishly took the vacant spot on my right side and sat down. The whole time I acted as though his touch could turn me into a puddle of water.

He curled into a ball and rested his head between his front paws. If I moved away he crawled closer, tormenting me. His human-like eyes curiously observed me. I looked down; he looked up.

It was like he was saying, 'are you done yet?'

Are you kidding me? How am I able to understand him?

Using his front legs, he sat up and wagged his tail back and forth. I could hear the sound of his tail thumping on the floor in a steady upbeat rhythm.

"You're that dog." I say flatly.

He barked once and nodded.

Common sense told me that human beings turning into animals was not logical, but neither was conversing with dogs.

"Ha, ha, Greyson. Awesome trick, I know you're hiding somewhere." I could hardly hide the quiver in my voice. I wanted so badly for this to be some joke. Even with what I just saw, my stubborn side--the part of my brain that I inherited from my practical mother--told me that there had to be a rational explanation to unravel this well-planned deception.

If Hollywood can create cheap tricks, then who says other people can't?

"Greyson," I screamed again. "Cut the crap and show yourself!"

The dog barked again, this time angrily, causing me to jump. His tail swished back and forth as if enjoying my crazy tirade.

"If your dog attacks me, I swear, I'm going to call the pound to take it!" A silly notion considering I didn't have a phone with me and there's no way anyone could reach me. I pointed at the massive canine and it sticks his tongue out, panting. Even from where I stood I could smell its horrible bad breath.

Beads of sweat formed across my forehead when it finally dawned on me that Greyson wasn't going to show up and the dog could very well be him.

"Greyson." I looked the beast in the eyes. "If that is really you...can you please--

I wasn't able to finish the sentence, but he somehow understood. Next thing I knew, the dog hopped on the bed and burrowed under the blankets.

"What are you doing?"

The duvet moved around wildly, before human Greyson sprung up...naked.

Can this guy ever not pop out of nowhere with clothes on?

Thankfully, he had the sheet wrapped around his lower region. I gasped and looked away, after taking a good glance at his glorious upper body. I wouldn't be a healthy teenage girl if I didn't. Who could blame me?

"Sorry, the down side of being a werewolf is having to carry around an extra pair of clothes." He said, jumping off the bed along with the sheet and grabbing his shredded clothes, throwing them in a trash basket.

"Werewolf." I whispered, testing the word in my mouth.

All those legends I heard of as a kid-witches, vampires, big foot, mermaids-where they real too?