Little Women vs. Werewolves

Chapter 11. Wilhelmina

It was nothing but a black void that she was only feeling like she was gently flying over her body. She can hear the people around her whispering next to each other of her ailment. Jo's vision was blurring and dimmed, her hand in front of her was crooked and flared.

"She needs help-"

"Is she going to die?"

"Someone needs to send for Doctor Adams."

A crowd of concerned citizens huddle around her examining her. She could only move her fingers and her toes in her boot sealed feet. "What's... Where... I don't understand."

Jo's words were distorted for her to speak or listen to her own voice. Her head was pounding like a hammer against the wood going on and on with never ending pain. It was worse than having the scarlet fever she had when she was an infant.

"Oh, my head. What is happening?" Jo muttered.

"What has happened?" A fruity familiar voice asks in the crowd. A man responded to the unknown voice to his question. She comes across a silhouette that was standing over her and puts his arm under her own and she was brought up on her feet.

"I will take her to my home. My father and mother should know what to do."

"Are you mad? She looks ill and she can walk only like she is on the plank of a pirate's ship."

"Please, don't touch me. I just need to sit and rest for a minute. Let me be," Jo muttered.

"No, Miss. March!"

How does he know my name? She thought. The familiar voice didn't open her thoughts or her memories as to where she heard that voice before. "You are in dire need of medicine that my father keeps. You do not trust the town doctor here."

With her eyes shuffled and her weak and tottering legs, she was able to move along with the stranger by her side. She didn't think of who he was but rather than a kind stranger or a young boy to aid her. His begrimed ashy brown hair caught her eye that had cure with a single touch.

His smell was awful, and she was walking with a complete stranger that smells of wet mutt and dirt. He had not taken a bath in a month, as that she must think. She had the taste of her morning coffee ready to spew out of her mouth. The taste was on the tip of her tongue. She feels her face burning and her forehead swelling like a bubble. It is either grip or a rather strange illness she has never had before other than scarlet fever.

Jo's feet were going to give out from each rock that collides at the foot of her heels. Her headache was less painful as it was before and after she smelled the silver bullet. The stranger that she was holding onto her side had continued to ramble deep to the woods in a road she didn't see before.

"Where are you taking me?" Jo mumbled. The words couldn't escape her mouth.

"I tell you, Jo. My house where my father can treat you with your ailment. The town doctor is not to be trusted. I told you that before. Now please, rest and don't have me to carry you all the way," he said.

"Who are you?"

"You know who I am."

"Laurie?"

"Goodness no. I would rather burn myself to the stake if I was that rich heir of the foundation."

She can feel her feet coming across a set of stairs and onto a wide porch. As she was feeling her head is at eased, they entered through a door and to a room where she was laying on the couch to rest.

The continuous voices has increased and her eyes were shutting down. Her ears ached like a needle piercing through her inner ear drum. She can feel her hands and her face being cold, she thinks that death has placed her on her head. As she is dazed, the black void had swallowed her whole, and she is already sinking in the hollowness that keeps a hold on her. Jo is screaming out for someone to hear her trouble cry, but her throat seems to be blocked away. She couldn't speak or scream, nothing of a sound.