Conall ON HOLD

2.moon

        A sharp metallic smell hit my nostrils, and my tongue was being held down by a net.  A knot of thin, fine threads threatened to choke me, a few slipping down the back of my throat.  I coughed, sitting up and spitting, a thin strand of clear liquid dripping out of my mouth as I doubled over.  Long tendrils of blonde hair mixed with bloodied saliva splattered like paint on the pavement.

        I'd attacked someone last night — a girl by the looks of the hair length.

        I raised my hands to my mouth, reaching in to grab a few runaway strands, but an unmistakable taste teased my taste buds.  I pulled my hands away, carrying the blonde hairs with them, and looked at the appendages of a murderer.

        Skin was crinkled under the fingernails and blood decorated my skin up to my elbows.

        Death toll: one.

        My eyes searched the alley around me, and I felt a frown form on my lips.  There was no body.

        Had I left her alive?

        I shook my head.  It was risky, but even if the girl was still alive, no one would believe that a werewolf attacked her.  It wasn't that believable of a story.

        I caught a familiar scent in the air whipping in between the buildings, and I realized that it was the smell of my home.  Taking a better look at my surroundings, I recognized the alley I was in to be the one next to my apartment building.

        I was too close.  Soon, people would be talking about the girl who was murdered right outside.  The city held too many risks, but it was harder to find me in a city as filled with people as New York.  It was easier to hide in but harder to be a werewolf in.

        Trying to dismiss my mind of those thoughts, I stood up from the ground, wrapping my arms around my chest to shield myself from the cooling fall air.  I needed to get a jacket today.  I would go to the store after washing the sweatpants I was wearing.  They thankfully hadn't been destroyed during last night's shift, only had blood on them from two nights ago, when I'd killed a few pigeons.

        I let out a small sigh as I started towards and up the fire escape.  I would have to go in this way, since walking into the lobby shirtless in the middle of fall with blood on my pants and no shoes on wasn't a really great way to seem "normal."  I'd done this a total of eight times already, leaving my window unlocked each time.  The fire escape was quite helpful, as it kept people's suspicion down to a minimum.  Before I shifted, I'd leave by the fire escape, and after I shifted, I'd return by the fire escape.  No one ever saw me come and go in the night.

        It only took me about two minutes to reach my window, which I swiftly pulled open and clambered through.  I landed on my bed, smiling a little at the familiar scent of the crinkled blue duvet that was falling halfway off of the double-sized bed.  The faint pine green smell danced around the room, making me feel comfortable.

        After shutting the window, I crawled off of my bed and walked to my dresser, removing a dark grey long sleeved henley, jeans, underwear, and a pair of socks.  Then I started for the bathroom.