Lycan Pass

Lycan Pass - Chapter 23

Wow, guys! We've made it pretty far in, haven't we? Well, there's no point in holding back now!  Let's continue on Anastasia's little journey, shall we?

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      When I awoke that morning, I felt cold and sick to my stomach, like I had somehow swallowed a gallon of ice water in my sleep. I reached over to the nightstand and pulled the alarm clock over to me. It was about seven in the morning. I laid back down on the bed and groaned.

      "I'm making bacon, eggs and hash browns. They'll be ready in a minute if you want to get yourself ready." I felt and electric jolt with the sound of his voice, and something like fear. Suspicion, maybe? I could have sworn I had a bad dream about him last night, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember what it was. I scowled and cursed my awful memory. I moved my hand to brush the hair out of my face and felt an itchy pain in the crease of my arm. I checked to see what it was, but only found a tiny and almost-healed pinprick, like a needle, or a bad mosquito bite. I decided to ignore it.

      "I'll be right there." He smiled at me, melting my previous chill with his warmth.
      "Great." With that, he left to attend to breakfast.

      As I climbed out of my blanket cocoon and dressed myself, I couldn't shake off the startling weakness in my limbs. There was a gelatinous feeling in every step I took. I was almost like I had turned to Jello in my sleep. I tried to shrug it off as an after effect of my hard traveling, but I knew that wasn't quite right. I tripped a lot as I made my way down the hallway. I was leaning heavily on the walls by the time that I reached the dining room. Wilson eyed me carefully.

      "Are you alright?" I thought about lying, but something told me he wouldn't believe a word of it. Instead, I shook my head and wobbled over to a chair. He quickly pulled it out for me and eased me down onto it.

      "What's wrong, my child?"
      "I don't know, I just feel... weak." He furrowed his brow.
      "Maybe you caught a case of food poisoning on your trip here." I remember the roadkill and left-overs from the trash I had gotten into when there was no prey around and blushed.
      "Yeah, that's probably it."
      "Well," he said as he put a plate in front of me, "how about some breakfast, if you're up to it?" On cue, my stomach roared.
      "Sounds marvelous."

      I practically inhaled the food, and felt better as soon as I did. I felt as though I was finally walking on solid ground again.

      For the rest of the day, Wilson and I went out on the town. He bought me new clothes (I noticed the girl from the other day wasn't there), took me to the little diner for lunch, and we wandered around the library for a bit. I picked out a few books and he checked them out for me. When I asked him why he was being so nice, he simply chuckled and shook his head, like I wouldn't understand.

      Every night since then, I began to fall asleep faster, dream less, and wake up sicker than ever. At first it was just the original weakness and a growing amount of dizziness, but then my head got heavier and my thought were fuzzy at best. I couldn't produce a clear train of thought anymore. We went out less, and I stayed in bed or on the couch for most of the time.

      Wilson took care of me. He made sure I remembered to eat and take the pills he had given me. They tasted like iron. I think they made me feel better, but I... I can't quite remember. I was slipping in and out of consciousness a lot, and I couldn't seem to remember much.

      I don't know when or where I fell asleep that last time, but I now regret closing my eyes for even a second. When I woke up that night, I finally remember my dream, and realized how much danger I was in. I awoke sprawled out on the guest bed. As I moved to scratch the growing irritation in the crease of my arm, I found that I couldn't move. I looked down at my ankles and saw that they were bound to the bed posts with rope.

      "Wilson! Wilson, help!" I screamed. As soon as I said it, he moved up from an unseen corner of the room and stood by my bed. I tugged hard at the ropes as he lingered over me, his warm smile now more like a kind of sweet poison.
      "Oh, I think it would be best if you stayed there for now." My heart stopped.
      "What?"
      "Ah, you see, my child, I have many things to explain. I wouldn't want you to wander off before I was finished, now would I?" As he leaned forward, the moonlight caught in his eyes. They glittered with a deadly coldness.

      "Who are you?" I whispered.
      "Well, you could call me Wilson, or Icarus. Or, you could call me Father."

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Okay, I'm going to hold a little contest within the comment section of this chapter! Are you ready for it? The first person to guess why Anastasia has been feeling ill will have the next chapter dedicated to them! And it has to be right, not just close (:

Good luck, my friends! See you on the next chapter!