The Boy Witch

4: Moving with Complications p. 2

I click my turn signal on as I move lanes and exit the freeway. I was officially in Colorado, and not a moment too soon, I'd say. It's been a number of days since I left New York, and the young vampire with it. He seemed oddly concerned for me, but he might've been tricking me.

After he left me alone in the garage, I was extremely hesitant to put on the runestone. But after some convincing from Morrigan, surprisingly, I finally put on the stone. I felt no different, but Morrigan said that she could barely sense my magic. It appeared as if the vampire had been telling the truth.

The landscape surrounding the road slowly switched from two story buildings to grassy plains and valleys to thick forests with tall trees. It was almost like humanity had disappeared for good. The road narrowed into one lane, allowing one car to drive in each direction. The light had started to die out not too long ago, staining the sky beautiful warm shades of red and orange.

Every so often there was a turn pike, splitting off from the road into another direction. Signs popped up infrequently, most of which advertising nearby towns. I frown when Wintervale wasn't on the latest sign. "Morrigan, did we pass the turn?" I turn to the lazy cat sitting in the passenger seat. "How should I know?" She snorts. "I'm not the one driving."

I pull over momentarily and take out my phone. It was old, to say the least. The scratches and dents can testify for how long I've owned the outdated touch phone. I pull up the GPS app and search for Wintervale. It said it was straight ahead, still for a number of miles, but still close. I pull back onto the deserted road and once again begin our journey.

It remained quiet for the most part, all except for the radio playing quietly in the background. The trees remained the same. After we drove for some time, I glance down at my phone screen resting in the cup holder. We were very close.

Not soon after a small sign standing off the side of the road appeared. It read, 'welcome to Wintervale.' I grin as I spoke. "We're here, Morrigan." She woke tiredly with a mewl. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

I grin at her disinterested response. But my original giddiness disappears as a huge wolf shoots out into the road. My eyes widen as I turn the wheel a hard right. I caught a glimpse of the animal's eyes, wide with shock and panic right before the car crashes into a tree.

My head bounces off the steering wheel and I hear the loud sound of glass breaking. Without even looking up, not that I could, I could tell the car was ruined from the sickening sound of crushing metal. Black dots swam through my vision, making the already blurry things even blurrier. I feel drained of energy, unable to move through this pounding headache. A metallic taste leaks into my mouth, and then I knew I was bleeding.

I was half awake when I hear the car door be forcefully opened. I only groan when someone pulls me out, carefully setting me down away from the car. My conscious begins to slip as it begins to become harder to breathe, my breath coming out shallow. The last thing I hear through the ringing in my ears was a male voice saying, "Hey, help's on the way!"

Then I black out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I couldn't keep track of time when I was consumed by the darkness. But slowly and surely, I began to grasp my surroundings, like how I could hear the steady monotone of a heart monitor. Or like the scratchy cotton becoming more apparent against my skin. And like how I began smell the chemical clean smell of a hospital. I definitely began to become aware of the thick head wrap wound around my head as well as the continuous ache in my body.

But what caught most of my attention was the fact that I kept having visitors, whose voices I didn't recognize, chatting with someone who must have been the doctor. They were different people, most of the time male but occasionally a female voice, but they always came alone; never had there been more than one visitor and a doctor in the room. I was too drowsy to understand what they were talking about most of the time.

Though I'd hate to admit, this scared me slightly. I had no idea where I was or who these people were. Were they Residents, here to try and extract magic from me? It sounded unreasonable, but after years of watching human sci-fi thrillers this somehow seemed like a possibility. The fact that I couldn't move my body or open my eyes did not help my unease.

After what felt like an eternity, today I could feel my body restless with cramped muscles. My magic felt restless, coursing through me more and more. I could almost imagine what it looks like; a bucket with water filled to the brim, a slow but steady drop of water edging the bucket closer to overfilling. I had to get out of this place, fast, before I make this place go boom with plants and hurricanes.

After some effort, I manage to peel open one green eye. The only view I got was of a pristine white ceiling, one that blinded me for a second. I grimace and raise a hand to cover my eyes. Looking at my arm, I saw white patches holding needles into my arm connected to an IV drip bag. I look away, suddenly nauseous. I never was good with dealing with needles or blood.

"Oh!" I look towards the door, seeing a nurse drop a clipboard onto the floor with a clang before hastening back through the door. I faintly hear her call out, her heels clicking on the floor, "Doctor! Doctor Tremain!" I push myself up into a sitting position, rubbing a hand along my stiff spine. Minutes later a man with a white doctor's coat on bursts through the door closely followed by two more men, each with a police badge pinned to their belt. The nurse from before runs in not a second later, breathing deeply from having to run in heels.

"My word! Thank the lord your awake!" Said the doctor. He was a man in his mid-thirties, with slicked back dark hair and an olive complexion. He was cleaned shaved and had curious dark brown eyes, looking and prodding wherever he looked. I couldn't help but put my guard up. It hasn't been the first time where I've had to escape a hospital because of Residents.

I attempt to talk, trying to ask what happened when I fell into a coughing fit. My throat was dry like sand, it must have been days since the accident. The doctor rushes to a bedside table and hands me a bottle of water, which I guzzle down gratefully. "You okay there, bud?" He asks as I try and catch my breath. "Yeah," I breathe out. "I'm fine."

The doctor sighs before smiling. "That's a relief. I'm Dr. Harris Tremain. The two gentlemen behind me are Sheriff James Dawson and Deputy Sheriff Ben Mills. Do you remember what happened?" Dr. Tremain gazes at me with concern, something I'm sure a lot of doctors just don't give out to any patient. He held a clipboard in his hand, pen poised to jot down notes.

I nod at Dr. Tremain. "Yes... I was in a car accident," I mumble to mostly to myself. "A large wolf had shot out into the road and I swerved to avoid it." The sheriff and deputy glanced at each other momentarily. The sheriff took a step toward the bed, and I got a better look at him. He was a man around his forties, grey starting to pepper his dark brown hair. His eyes were a frosty blue, staring with a intensity that demanded respect. His voice was no different when he spoke. "Can you tell us who you are and why you were heading to Wintervale?"

I swallow thickly and open my mouth to answer. "My name is Northern Nightfall. I came to Wintervale because I had heard of a house for rent here."

"Alone?" Sheriff Dawson prods.

I nod. "My mother was going to come later. She's on a work trip currently and is unable to help me with the move. She trusts me enough." A lie, but I'd rehearsed this enough times to make sound true enough.

"And how old are you?" He asks as he pulls out a notepad from his back pocket.

I shrug. "Anywhere from about 15 to late 16."

He raises an eyebrow questioningly. "Anywhere?" I nod, and elaborate on the puzzling question. "I don't know my real birthday. I was abandoned on the road when I was a year old. Everyone just says that my birthday is New Year's Day."

"So you were adopted."

"Yes."

"Well," Sheriff Dawson said, flipping his notebook closed. "I think that this was a little bit of a rocky start. I would like to formally welcome you to Wintervale." He gives me a warm smile. "I think you'll fit right in."