Werewolves: Emerald of the Wilds

“Want a ride?” Zack asked a woman, wearing thick make-up with skimpy clothing, that was standing over a lamp post with other women chewing gums in the almost same provocative outfit.He roamed his eyes over the ladies that gathered in one area while the others were leaning against a wall while an earphone was plugged on their ears. “Hi handsome!” came a young pretty lady, wearing a big smile on her pouty red lips. She bent down over his car window, deliberately showing her cleavage. He sniffed. The lady smelled fresh even with the cheap pungent smell of the perfume she wore hasn’t covered. “No. Not you,”he simply replied. The young lady,who was more likely in her teens, frowned. She stepped back, sulking. Most women preceded him after he rejected the youngest and perhaps the most sought after, yet he chose the one left leaning over the lamp post. - - - - - - The light from a burning cigarette was the only thing to see on this cold dark night. It belonged to a man standing on the house’s second floor balcony. “Aren’t we going to start?” said the woman in a softened, seducing voice. Probably in her 50’s, who was trying to look younger by wearing  red-colored hair in pigtails and only in a black string bikini and wearing crotchless black fishnet stockings. Not heeding to even cover her saggy breasts. “It’s getting late, sweetheart,” she said in broken English. Running her fingers into his hard lean chest. “My time is ticking, Babe.” She added. “Sure you do.” He replied in a deep throaty voice and flicked the cigarette in the dark. He lifted the goblet of wine standing on the wooden deck and sipped it. “How many children do you have?” He asked. Not looking at the woman. The woman raised her brows. Surprised to hear an unusual question being asked her. “Just answer.” He said sharply with no hesitation. “Two girls.” Turning her back as she replied. Her eyes dreary. She sighed as she shrugged her shoulders and resumed talking. “Two beautiful girls. They’re on an easy street. They don’t need me.” Although it was said in a very low voice,resentment was hinted which he heard and felt clearly. Zack glanced over but immediately looked away. He doesn’t want to feel it. He doesn’t want emotions to be part of his existence.It is a certain kind of fragility, and he can’t consider that. “Just what I needed” he murmured. Making sure that the woman won’t hear.But even if she hears it, there’s nothing she can do. “Go on inside” he said, “and prepare yourself,” he added. The woman smiled sweetly as she walked towards the room without leaving his perfect curve illuminated dimly by the moon. Hips swaying. Eyes fluttering. Trying to catch his eyes. He looked at the glass of wine. Not budging. The silhouette of the hunter’s moon started to dance with its glow in the goblet.He started to get mad.He gets so provoked and furious whenever the full moon calls.He doesn’t want this to happen. He doesn’t want to be a monster.Neither does this woman want to be a victim.But for him, this must be life. He began to feel the stiffening of his body. His bones started to break. His fingernails were growing longer and sharp.As sharp as the fangs that replaced his teeth.His wavy hair slowly fell out and again, was replaced by a dark fur. It’s time. He knows.. . . He knows when the full moon comes. For 15 years, he has been enduring this curse. The beast’s hair hackles and a roaring sound enveloped the silence of the night that ushered the woman to scream and was soon silenced by the coming of death. - - - - - “It’s a certain Annisa Nur, Sir,” said the beach resort keeper in their native language. “No. I’m asking who checked in, in this room?” asked the officer, pointing out the room where the Indonesian courtesan was found swimming in her own blood. “It’s Annisa Nur, Sir,” the keeper said again. “How about the name of the one she’s with?” the officer asked. “Only the woman wrote on the ledger, Sir.” The keeper replied. “And I can’t recall the man she was with,” he added, and looked at the assistant beside him for confirmation, which the person quickly agreed by nodding. It started to shower outside.The weather seemed to mourn the incident.The skies slowly turned dark from its nimbus clouds, which made the detective hasten his men from navigating the perimeters. The detective asked no further questions. He knows that people can sometimes be too comfortable to not keep up with their jobs. Once again, he examined the victim’s body. He looked clueless. It’s never possible that this gruesome activity was conducted by a human. Looking around, the body’s throat being ripped, its blood scattered from walls and sheets, grievous wounds to arms and legs, chest tormentingly butchered with its heart nowhere to be found. He’s sure this is not made by humans but that of a beast. Considering the foot prints from the floor to the veranda,they pointed out that this was where the beast jumped off. But How? What kind of animal made this? Where’s her companion? There’s no doubt that this woman is a courtesan. Who killed her. . . or them? There was no sound being heard by the hotel employees, according to them. The investigator assumed that these workers must have been caught up in something like playing music or whatever they’re watching with their earphones plugged in their ears. He’ll make sure they’ll be called for further interrogation and they have to come up with a proper answer.After all, they are liable to their surroundings for their duty. The police investigator walked to the veranda and looked down. “Did you find anything? A male . . . or female? “ he yelled. “Just this one,” said another police investigator. He raised his hand, showing an empty wet crumpled cigarette packet. “And this,” said another investigator holding a cigarette butt using tweezers. “Good! Good!” he said, yet not able to notice the cigarette packet dampened from the rain showers. - - - The medical examiner appeared at the door. “Detective Sudarso?” The detective stood up and gathered the autopsy certificate handed to him. He scanned the medical report and was shocked to find out that he was right.The wounds were not inflicted by a human but, yes, a savage bestial attack. The person who owns the DNA of the evidence found on the cigarette butt and broken pieces of the goblet is the only segment that can answer this puzzle. But where is he? Or she? - - - “Please! Help us find out who did this. We need justice for this gruesome death of my mother,” the two daughters summoned, crying for justification. Detective Sudarso reclined his seat and stretched his feet on his table. He stroked his head and rested on one arm. He still recalls the plea of one of the two daughters who was orphaned by their mother.Besides, he felt a certain emotion for the woman which he later decided was just a simple compassion. He wants to help. He was sure of that. He didn’t get to graduate this course in flying colors if he had no passion for solving crimes. He had to start with the evidence he gathered. He has to find the missing person. Now he felt his adrenaline rising.He stood up and gathered his things. The woman who was found dead earned her pennies by selling comfort to men.He had to take note of that.They are an easy-lay for a crazy murderer.