Chapter 3: The Tour Guide
1118 Words
CHAPTER 3: The Tour Guide
Jason's POV
I dragged myself through the front door with every bone in my body aching. The match had been brutal, and my head felt heavy, like I was carrying a stone inside it.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, dropping my school bag by the wall.
Mom looked up from the couch, and her eyes softened, but she sniffed the air before I could even sit down.
“You’re still playing that hockey at school?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound casual.
She stood and walked over, brushing her fingers over my cheek. Her touch was gentle, but her voice was firm.
“Jason, you really shouldn’t be doing it. You know I’m right. Hockey is too much excitement for you.”
I pulled back a little.
“Mom, I like it. It’s the only thing that makes me feel normal. When I’m on the ice, everything else fades and… and even… the beast likes it.”
Her hand froze.
“Don’t call it that,” she whispered. “Don’t talk about it.”
I sighed and looked at the floor.
“Fine.”
She kissed my forehead, like she used to when I was a kid.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, sweetheart. You push too far, and you won’t be able to stop it next time.”
I didn’t answer. What could I say? She was right, but I couldn’t give hockey up. I needed it.
***
That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The house was quiet and I should’ve been asleep, but my mind wouldn’t stop and every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face… Leota. As annoying as she was, I couldn't deny the images that had come to mind when I touched her.
I turned on my side, trying to push it all away, and my body felt heavy and too hot under the blanket.
Then it happened.
One blink, I was in my room, and the next I was tearing through the forest on all fours. I could feel the wind in my fur and the strength in my muscles.
I stopped and lifted my head to howl, but froze.
Leota’s face stared down at me from the moon, and her eyes glowed, calm and sad at the same time.
My chest tightened, and my claws dug into the earth as something inside me snapped.
I lost control, and rage poured through me like fire. My body stretched and twisted with fur growing steadily. I wanted to destroy everything… rip trees apart and crush stones with my teeth.
I woke up abruptly with a gasp.
My hands weren’t hands anymore. They were claws and sharp teeth that filled my mouth, and dark hair sprouted across my arms and chest.
“Easy,” a calm voice said.
I turned and saw Dad sitting on the edge of the bed. He was steady, like he’d been waiting, and he reached out, resting a warm hand on my shoulder.
“Breathe, son,” he said. “Slowly.”
I forced air into my lungs, and my body trembled, but the claws began to shrink. The fangs pulled back, and the hair faded. After a few long moments, I was human again, shaky and drenched in sweat.
Dad didn’t move his hand.
“It’s getting worse.”
I looked away, wiping my face with the back of my arm.
He sighed.
“Your mother told me you’re still playing hockey.”
“I like it,” I said roughly. “It’s the only thing that makes sense to me. I feel… alive out there.”
“Or,” he said softly, “it’s feeding off the excitement. Getting stronger.”
I met his eyes and he wasn’t angry, just worried.
“No one can find out what you are,” he added. “You know that.”
“I know,” I replied.
He gave my shoulder a squeeze, then stood.
“Get some rest. You’ve got school tomorrow.”
I lay back, staring at the ceiling again and sleep didn’t come easy after that.
***
Morning came too soon, and I dragged myself out of bed, still tired from the night before. When I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I almost didn’t recognize the pale face staring back.
“You look like hell,” I muttered to myself.
By the time I got to school, I was running on fumes.
“Hey, Jason!” a girl called as I passed. She waved, smiling like she’d been waiting all morning just to say hi.
“Morning,” I said, forcing a small smile.
Another group of girls giggled nearby, and one of them whispered something, and they all looked at me. I felt their eyes follow as I kept walking.
It was always like that. People drawn in, even when I didn’t want them close. I stayed quiet most of the time, kept my head down, but still they came, curious and excited.
I tightened my grip on my bag. If they knew what was inside me, they wouldn’t smile; they’d run.
“Ryback!” a voice shouted.
I turned… It was Mason, one of the guys from the team.
“Coach Severin wants to see you,” he said.
I frowned.
“Now?”
“Yeah, now. He said it’s important.”
Great. I’d hoped to get to class first, maybe drink some water, breathe for a second, but I nodded and headed toward the rink side offices.
I knocked once and stepped inside, and Coach Severin looked up from his desk.
“Jason, come in.”
I walked in, expecting talk about drills or Friday’s match but then I saw her.
Leota stood near the wall, clutching a notebook against her chest. Her eyes widened when she saw me, and she almost dropped the pen she was holding, while my stomach sank.
“What’s she doing here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.
Coach Severin smiled like it was no big deal.
“I thought you could give Leota a tour. She’s covering the team for the paper, remember?”
I stared at her and she stared back.
A tour? Of course…
My hands curled into fists at my sides. This was the last thing I wanted.
Leota’s eyes flicked to me, unsure, like she could sense the rage I was trying to hide.
I swallowed hard, feeling trapped.
“Fine,” I said finally.
And Coach nodded, pleased.
“Good. Show her around, explain what she needs to know. And try not to scare her off…”
- Writer
