My Royal Wolf Blood

Ugly Creation

‘Violet? Seriously.” Anna places her pale hand on my caramel skin. ‘What are you staring at?’ I break contact from the back of his head and bring my eyes to meet my best friend, who worries about me too much.

‘No one.’

‘Someone, you have been blanking me since we have gotten to school,’ ... ‘Oh, the new boy.’ she blurts.

‘Shh,’ I turned as if he heard. But he doesn't seem to move anyway.

‘Do you know him?’

‘I think I need to talk to him.’ she pulls me back immediately.

‘No, you don't. What the hell has gotten into you?’ I ignore her question. We both linger for a moment, our eyes on him, like predators.

‘Luka Gale’ a small voice startles us both, I take a glance to see who it is, her strawberry red hair hangs down her breasts, her big brown eyes sparkle and she giggles Jessica Jones, knows everything around here, she's the newspaper writer, but then I just think she's just a big nose. ‘Luka Gale, he moved here yesterday from London; I think that's what the files say…’

‘The file?’ Anna interrupts her.

‘I have my ways. Anyway, he moved here from London after his mother died, with his father, sister, and brother, they said it was a car accident, and his father decided to come back here with the family. I believe he is related to the posh freaks up top.’

‘Don’t say that!’ I snapped.

‘Wait, how do you know his mother died? Does it say that in the file?’

‘Did I say, ‘I read it from a file?’’ Jessica huffs towards Anna, ‘Anyway, his father is a well-known man back home, so it was all over the news when his mother died. They are a very wealthy family. Richer than rich, I would say.’ I push her to the side as she makes humming noises and scatters away.

The ringing of the bells bows through my ears and sets everyone to return to their lectures. I turn to find the so-called Luka gone, and back to find Anna running off the wrong way, ‘Where are you going?’

‘I've forgotten my books.’ She shouts back, running backwards. I don't know how she can run like that as not just last year. She tore a ligament and had surgery on her knee. “See you there!” I shouted back…

I popped my glasses on and flipped my fringe over the top as if I needed them anyway. I did before I had become this. The professor wrote ‘Frankenstein’ on the board. A monster that wants to be loved, it’s a story with so many meanings, a story that people have studied and loved, a Gothic movement in literature. Dr Frankenstein created his monster for the betterment of humankind. But once his creation came alive, he was disgusted by his creation, casting it aside because of its ugliness. I don’t think that is fair.

I read somewhere that we are the same, werewolves, I mean. God created us for good, for the demons that came out during the night and survived on human blood, then werewolves became slaves, bound to the moon when one of our kind took human blood for his selfishness. And God cast us aside. Well, I hope there is an us.

“So, good morning. I am just going to get right onto it. I have paperwork here that all of you should have picked up on the way in…” A curly blond-haired boy leans over and grabs one, “Thank you, Roy.” … “So today, Frankenstein by Mary Shelly, you all should have read this over the summer break. For people that have not read Frankenstein, then get out.” She waits. Is she serious? “Good.” Our professor runs through her slide show, explaining what the school year will be like for us. Her short brown-grey hair bounces off her shoulders and into a curl. Some of the class whispers, mumbling about a sudden change in school, but I seem to be the only one who notices. The professor stops talking, my pen glides over the paper, and he waits for her to carry on. The door screeches open, and a sense of uncontrollable buzzing thrives through my body again.

“Excuse me.” A rich posh comforting voice breaks through the silence.

“Mr. Gale, correct?” I jolt my head up high. He stands there, one hand on his black rucksack strap, and the other gripping onto papers.

“Yes, Ma’am.” His unfathomable commanding words drift to my ears and vibrate on my ear drums.

“Find a seat.” She orders. His features are so elegant so sharp, his black hair hangs just over his eyebrows slightly parting in the middle, and his almond golden-brown eyes trail past mine, it’s so dull, so slow, so smooth. It is him. He searches for his chair like an eagle finding his prey. As he sat, everyone whispered, "I couldn’t help but look, gazing upon him, like a stalker." My curls cover my eyes, but that isn’t good enough as our eyes lock anyway, and for a moment, I remember, I remember a dream.

“Hey.” He hushes for me to calm down, “I am here now.” He places his forehead against mine, hovering, his nose brushing mine, comforting me, I’m here now.” He whispers, “I'm yours.” …

Professor Jane quiets down the class. Their gossip and irritating movement distracts me, like my siblings, a constant pain. But the professor is strange; every time she turns, her eyes land on Luka. A flash of anger. Beside me, he gazes out of the window, observing the students stride along the grass, his pencil taps on the top of his peached lips. His head turns and glances towards me once again. A sudden flicker splashes his eyes, and his dark eyebrows crease. Does he know me, too? I pull myself away. Otherwise, I'll overstay. I have only had a couple of dreams with him, a dream that told me that he was coming, he told me that I am his wolf, I don’t know what that means, but it means something.

“Miss Rose!” I flash my eyes and look towards a very impatient professor. She sighs. “It is an easy question, Miss Rose.” I glanced up towards the board where a question in bold letters stood. But was it that question she asked? I felt pressured, and I felt embarrassed. But there is only one way to answer it. What was the main reason Frankenstein hated his creation?

“The monster was cast aside by his creator, who named him hideous; he never gave him a proper name. Frankenstein's creation was very sensitive and emotional. Frankenstein still refers to him as a ‘creature,’ as a ‘thing.’ As soon as he was created, Frankenstein was ashamed of his making, and immediately loathed him. He never asked to be created, created by different bits from different humans, corpses, people who have already died, a creature that is trapped in their own body, and all he wanted was to be loved, to not be alone, but the so-called god robbed him from that future, from happiness. He was still human, that felt everything, half human, half monster… He was hunted down, slaughtered because he was born different...” The thought had never crossed my mind before. Was I talking about the monster or me? The silence around the classroom is deafening. I feel hatred, eyes all on me, I feel foolish.

“Thank you, Miss Rose. But that wasn’t the answer I was looking for.” My body heat multiplies the control to change is challenging. What is happening to me? My hands clench the side of the table, I feel exposed, and I feel like I'm going to change, why am I getting so angry at such a little thing? “The creature was never human in the beginning, and not human in the end. He was always a creature. Dr Frankenstein should have never created such a hideous monster. He gambled with the balance of life. One should have never made such a catastrophe. A monster will always be a monster, Miss Rose.” She mumbles, so freely, so happily. It was so peculiar, but it made me so furious as if she was aiming that at me, or am I just being paranoid?

“Not particularly.” His strong voice captures everyone’s attention again.

“Is that so, Mr. Gale.” She mutters.

“The creature was very intelligent, grasping a language in a quiet little time that most humans spend half of their life to reach the level of knowledge he had, he showed his humanity, but humans are known for their interactive impulsiveness, humans have shown acts of immense brutality, g******e, propaganda, slavery, dictatorship, wars of revulsion, inhuman acts. The anger, the so-called ‘hideous monster’ that Victor had created, felt rage pushed by the humans that treated him like he was a vicious animal, a creature with no heart. He was no longer lonely, but he was revengeful to his inventor. And so would I be.” … “So, no. I think Miss Rose was right, ‘the catastrophe’ was hunted down and massacred because he was living a life he never asked for.” I exhaled, I thought I was relieved, maybe shocked, I didn’t think he would do that, why would he? I glance over towards him; he does not even look at me. Not even a side-eye.

“So, you think it’s acceptable for something like that to be running around freely?”

“No.” … “But do you think it’s acceptable for humans to slaughter something they don’t understand, something that is innocent? Humans do that a lot.” He pauses for a moment. “We either run away from something we don’t understand or destroy it. It’s human nature” The class watches them both like a cat watching ping pong, a bizarre quarrel that no one would have imagined happening.

“He murdered innocence. He needed to be put down.” The professor hisses.

“Innocence means nothing to some people, professors, some more than others.”

The professor opened her wrinkled mouth, the time went past its mark, and half of the class stood to go. The professor insistently packed everything away. It's hard to adjust after the change, I kept to myself, I was strange to people who didn’t know me, and people who did, stayed away, I’m just a teenage senior trying to get through school. But I can't always control my nerves. What happened between the professor and Luka was forgotten as everyone left the room, even me.

I grabbed what I could and left, I needed to get somewhere safe, somewhere far away. "Violet!" Anna’s voice travels towards me, but I ignore her, I can not let her see me like this, not yet. I pushed the books to my chest and twisted the corner to pace down the corridor. I was trying to walk quicker than I could, bumping into people younger and older than me. I am lost deep in thought, I don't want to change now, not in front of the people that I seem not to notice around me, they will call me a monster, what if I hurt them? I then glance up to see a large chest, at least one step in front of me, obscuring my path. I hadn't noticed before I could move. My eyes widened as my feet stumbled over him, and my books fell to the floor in a clatter.

“Are you okay?” …