I am the Night - the last She-Wolf

Chapter 5 - Blood

I keep my eyes closed. Keep the darkness close.

I’ve spent the night crying. I never cry. But after everything that happened, I couldn’t stop the stream of tears. They just kept coming and coming. Unstoppable.

I don’t know what time it is or how long I’ve been locked up here. There is no window telling me if it’s day or night.

Something tells me it's daytime. The place seems busier. People yelling. The occasional scream of a mad man. Tortured till his mind shut off I assume.

Outside the walls, I hear the usual buzz of the town. Women laughing. Children playing. Hunters going about their business.

When I hear my door open, I keep very still. My hands folded over my stomach as I slowly breathe in and out.

“Are you awake?” a stranger asks. I don’t know his voice and I don’t care who he is or why he’s here. “Hey!” he kicks my bed, rocking it slightly. “I asked you a question!”

“I’m awake,” I mumble, but my eyes stay shut.

“Food!” he says and I think I hear him spit. Probably into my food. “Eat it or you won’t get anything else till tomorrow!” And the door falls shut behind him.

With a heavy sigh, I open one eye. The other one is swollen shut. The room is dark except for a tiny light above the door. It barely spends any light.

Usually, that wouldn’t bother me, but with my face, all smashed in my sight isn’t the best right now.

I tested my limits and now I have to deal with the consequences. I don’t remember if I thought that it wouldn’t matter anymore. If so, I was wrong.

I hate this. I hate that Cillian left me here. That he just stood by while that man questioned me. I still don’t know his name, but when I find out, I will remember it. I will remember the one who claims to be good, but in truth, he’s pure evil.

Next to my bed, I can make out the square shape of a tray. Food has splattered all over it and spilled over its rims. It doesn’t look very pleasant. It looks like someone already ate it.

There is no cutlery, so I reach out and carefully stick my finger into the mushy substance. It’s still warm. Not hot, but warm enough, I guess.

It smells like nothing. Hesitantly I lick it off my finger. It also tastes of nothing. Maybe this is just mushed-up air. But even the air has a better taste to it. Even down here. Wherever I am.

Probably somewhere deep below the surface. Far enough so no one will hear the screams.

But I hear them. I listened to them all night and it breaks my heart. I’ve known there was something going on within these walls. I always suspected that it was something shady.

Depending on how the wind stood, I could hear the screams from far away. I thought they were interrogating prisoners. Wolves. But are they? What if they keep humans here as well? What would it take for a human to end up here? Climbing a wall? Speaking their mind?

This place isn’t what it’s supposed to be. A sanctuary for those who fear the creatures of the night. A place where you are safe. Where we fight against the bad. But as it turns out things are never that black and white, are they?

With a soft sigh, I push the tray away and lie back down. I wonder how long it’ll be until I’ll see the light of day again.

Next time I'll make a better plan to escape this place. I keep running until my legs give out. I will change the color of my pale blond hair and get a good tan, so no one will recognize me.

I wonder if there’s a way to get rid of my scars too? Maybe I start wearing a cape and always keep the hood on. That’s not suspicious, right?

I chuckle at my own stupid thought. The chuckle turns into a soft sob.

I never took myself for someone who hated life. I liked it actually. It wasn’t always happy and I lost my mother when I was still a girl. But my grandmother took care of me.

She gave me a good life. She let me find my own path. She taught me what freedom was. Something I’ve lost a long time ago. Maybe I lost it the day she died.

She always wore a smile for me. Her long silver hair braided down her back. She loved to wear that red scarf around her shoulders.

The scarf she used to cover me with when I had a nightmare. She told me it was made of a special fabric and it’ll protect me from the bad dreams. I believed it and it was all I needed to fall back to sleep.

I could use a magic blanket about now. But my grandmother is gone and I am no longer at home. At her small cottage out in the woods.

I often asked her why she wasn’t scared to live out there on her own. The cities were fairly safe. Wolves barely show up there.

But the woods are isolated. It’s lonely. She always laughed when I asked her that question and told me to take a closer look.

To look at the trees, and the sky above, listen to the animals close by. She told me that the earth protects her. It provides and it will decide whether she has to die or not.

It made little sense to me since I didn’t know how the dirt could do anything about a wolf attacking my grandmother.

Later I learned that she might have been right. I was attacked in the city and because I remembered her words I ran into the woods. I was hoping something would save me from certain death.

I regret that decision. Compared to this, death seems to have been the better choice. But maybe the earth chose to spare me for a reason. I just really can’t see it right now.

Softly I ran a finger over my sore throat. It hurts. I can still feel the hands wrapping around my neck. Squeezing hard.

I should have been more afraid, but I’m not. I’m just numb. A part of me has already given up this fight I’ve been fighting. Against all odds. What’s the point anymore?

I’ve wasted all this time on finding answers. Trying to figure out why I survived. I won’t find out. Nobody holds the answers and maybe they simply don’t matter. They won’t change a thing, will they?

The day passes and the place becomes eerily quiet. No screaming. No nothing. Just silence, while the light over my door starts flickering. It’s keeping me awake. I guess that’s the point. They are depriving me of sleep.

With a heavy sigh, I turn on my side and watch the light stubbornly. I’m not letting them break me. I might just have enough fight left in me to defy them.

I lose track of time, but I am counting the seconds. Counting the mismatched rhythm of the lights.

Maybe days have passed. I can’t tell anymore. I am tired and hungry. But nobody was here to feed me. To do anything. I should have eaten the stuff they brought me. But by now it smells sour and rotten.

I’m starting to smell pretty bad too. My hair is clinging to my head. The wounds on my face ache. They might be infected. What're a few more scars, right? Maybe I get a fever and die.

Slowly losing my mind, I lie shivering in my bed. That’s when finally someone sets foot in my cell. He lifts his jacket to his nose in disgust at the smell. I couldn’t care less.

“Get up!” he orders. I don’t move. “I said get up!” he shouts and roughly grabs my arm to yank me off the bed. I fall to the floor at his feet.

“Move!” he nudges me with his booted foot.

I groan and manage to hold myself up on all fourth. He sighs annoyed and hauls me off the floor, dragging me along behind him. I can barely move my feet quick enough. Stumbling after him.

The hallways are illuminated brightly. Stinging my good eye. It smells of bleach again. Bleach and death.

This is a rotten, evil place. It’s in every c***k of the walls. Oozing with violence.

They questioned me before, but it was a different place. It was right after the attack and I just came back to my senses. They were testing my blood and kept me under surveillance.

I thought that was torture. I was in pain back then. The Lycans poison was still burning through my veins. It took a while before it finally calmed down. Before the pain became just a dull ache and finally vanished completely.

It was a different time. I can barely remember it. Just the pain. I always blamed them for inflicting it. But they didn’t. It was a very different situation.

If they knew how much I was hiding from them my time here would have turned out very differently. It would have been more like what is happening now.

“She hasn’t eaten in three days,” the man says. It takes me a moment to realize he’s not talking to me. There’s a man in a white coat standing in the middle of a sterile room. It’s a round room, made of glass.

“She is weakened then?” the white coat asks.

“Looks like it. Had to drag her here,” the guard complains and I’m being pushed into a chair-like construction.

“We might need her strong. But not today. I will keep you posted,” Whitecoat says and ties my hands to the armrests of the chair. I struggle a little. But it’s no use. I am weak.

“What are you doing to me?” I croak out. My voice is almost completely gone.

The man just briefly looks at me, but he doesn’t talk to me.

“So, what’s all this stuff?” the guard who took me here asks, fumbling with some tools on a glass table.

“I think that’s a little above your clearance level, Parker.”

“Just curious what you’re going to do to her. I heard rumors about her being a spy. I’m just worried there might be more like her within these walls.”

“You can be assured, there is no one quite like her,” white coat says with a happy smile on his face. He pushes his glasses up his nose and takes me in. “You may leave now,” he tells the guard.

“I’ll be outside if you need me,” he says with a nod and takes off. Leaving me alone in what can only be described as some kind of laboratory. There are a lot of machines and tools.

My gaze shifts and I watch my reflection in the rounded glass wall. Behind the wall, I realize are people watching.

I can’t recognize any of them, but they look important. High-ranking members of the Hunter society, I assume.

“What are you going to do to me?” I ask slowly slurring the words as I turn to look at the white coat.

“No need to be afraid,” he says, patting my hand as if he’s an old friend, “I’m going to make you all better.”

“I’m... fine,” I say hesitantly.

“No, precious, you are far from fine. You are sick and I’m going to study your illness. I’m going to unravel its secrets and maybe use it to our advantage.”

“I’m not that special,” I sigh and close my eyes from exhaustion.

“We both know that’s not true. You are more special than you led us to believe.”

I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. Cillian. He told them. He really gave away my secret. I always knew there was a chance he would, but I hoped I could trust him.

I was wrong. My little spurt of faith in him failed me. They know. The question is what do they want from me?

It’s not like I have very useful superpowers or something. All I have are improved senses. I can’t change into a wolf. I’m not super strong. A little faster than average maybe. But I’ve always been a fast runner. Maybe the things I already could do enhanced a little.

“Gentleman,” he says turning away from me, “may I present to you miss Mika. She arrived on the compound about eighteen months ago. She was found by one of our own. Bleeding and about to be killed by a Lycanthrope. He had already scratched her, as you can see by her scars,” he points to my face and neck, “The wolf had also bitten her. A certain death sentence for a female as you may know.”

He makes a dramatic pause. I really hate how he’s talking about me as if I am some kind of exhibit at an auction.

Everything he says is true, but I am right here. Listening to all of this is painful. And I’m just so tired. I want to sleep. Forever.

“We suspect it has something to do with chromosomes. But we have here a perfectly normal female. Healthy and vital. She was supposed to die. But she didn’t. After she arrived, we didn’t expect her to make it through the week. When she did, we started making some tests. Her blood showed some changes. We compared it to a Lycanthropes bloodwork. There were similarities. But not quite. We watched her and she never shows any signs of transformation.”

“I can’t change into a stupid wolf,” I mumble. But he ignores me.

“What she kept a secret was that her senses seemed to have improved too. Much like the Lycanthropes. Enhanced hearing, smell, and sight.”

“Will you be able to extract those abilities?” a voice comes through a speaker box. It cracks a little and it stings my ears. The static made me wince. “Can we use them to improve our Hunters?”

Improve Hunters? Are they trying to build an army of super-soldiers? Fear sparks in my chest and I struggle against the restraints.

“If not through science we might be able to improve the Hunter through breeding.”

“No!” I whisper and the white coat briefly glances at me. No emotion. No nothing. Just pure curiosity at what awaits him. I am a project to him. Not a living and breathing human girl. Almost human, that is.

“We will start with another analysis of her blood,” he continues to the small crowd watching us.

“How long will it take until you can present the first results?” a voice asks over the speaker.

“I know you are very impatient men, but you cannot rush science. I will work fast, I will work thoroughly. You will get your results.” he promises and turns towards me. “After I extracted her blood and analyzed it I would like to see if she’s able to change. If so, it would mean she is no longer human. It would make breeding and bending the fetus's DNA the easier method. Otherwise, I am not sure what it would do to our men. We wouldn’t want to turn our own, am I right?”

“Breeding takes too long,” someone says, “grooming a child. One at a time. It will take years to build the army we need to finally win this war.”

“Let me see what I can do. I understand breeding is our last option.” Whitecoat says and readies a needle for me.

“This is wrong,” I whisper to him. He smiles but shakes his head. “It’s not right!” I try again. “Please!”

“It’s science, precious,” he chuckles and almost gently pushes the thin needle into my arm.

Thick, red liquid slowly creeps through a small tube. Dripping into an oblong vessel. It’s like I am watching my fate tickling away. A fate sealed by someone I trusted.