A girl is taken from her midwestern home into the den of a pack of werewolves. With her new identity, will she be able to control the urges being a wolf during part of the month brings?
A girl is taken from her midwestern home into the den of a pack of werewolves. With her new identity, will she be able to control the urges being a wolf during part of the month brings?
Lydia Swain gave a heavy sigh as she threw down the pen she had been holding. Her mind was a complete blank. The composition notebook in front of her was filled with the disturbing thoughts of her childhood. Ever since she had returned home from the hospital, her parents would shout that she needed to go write or something, like it never meant anything except that she didn't explode. The last time that had happened had been catastrophic and she wasn't anxious to have another 'episode'. She rested her head against the small half-filled book. There was nothing left to write about.
She was stuck.
It was hard enough to keep her temper under control and find something to write about in the one horse town of Chadton, Nebraska. She sighed again and closed the composition book. Nothing ever happened in this town worth writing about. Slipping the journal under her bed, she placed her decoy on the desk. Lydia knew very well that her parents liked to snoop through her journal and see if there was anything worth convicting her on. At least this secured anything she didn't want known. The house was quiet, ceasefire in a war zone. Rubbing her eyes as she looked at the grandfather clock in the hallway, she started walking downstairs where she could hear the TV on.
The news was playing. All over Nebraska there had been sudden vicious attacks. The police stated that they believed it to be the work of coyotes from the south as Lydia sat on the couch. "We plan to find any coyotes and shoot them with a tranquilizer and transport them to a safe location in a desert reserve where we can keep check on them." Lydia frowned slightly as she hugged her legs. Coyote's weren't often seen in Nebraska much less so far north in the state. Lydia winced as she saw the picture of the man who had been murdered. His throat was ripped out and his whole body was ravaged.
Shaking her head, she picked up the remote and turned off the TV. Again the silence in the house worried her. It seemed that everyone in the whole world had temporarily disappeared. Lydia cherished the moment, closing her eyes and listening to the darkness surrounding her. Suddenly the silence was broken by a loud purring sort of growl. Lydia jumped, startled at the sound. Peering out the sliding glass door leading from the living room to backyard Lydia's eyes grew big as she saw a pair of bright yellow eyes staring at her. The growl grew deeper before she gave a scream and dashed towards the hallway. There was a shatter of glass, alerting Lydia that the creature was inside now. She rushed towards her parents room at the end of the hallway and looked back as she started to shut the door.
The animal outside hadn't been any coyote. It looked distinctly like a wolf but the nose was squashed and it moved strangely as if its whole body were moving in longer distances then it was truly allowed. Lydia slammed the door shut as the coyote, wolf, or whatever it was slammed into the door. She could hear the growls and howls from behind the door as she rushed to the bed and picked up the phone, her shaking hands dialing 911. The thing had began to ram the door. "911 emergency. How can I help you?" "Th-There's something in my house!" she shrieked. "I think it's one of those coyotes!" "Alright miss, if you can just tell us where-" Lydia could feel her heart pounding in her chest as the line went dead. There was more of them, there had to be.
The door was close to breaking, she could tell, as the hinges tore from their screws. Breathing heavily, Lydia dashed into her parents walk-in closet, half of her mind thinking she'd be safe and the other thinking she was crazy to stay in there. The door suddenly came crashing down and Lydia huddled amongst the dusty, moth-eaten clothes in the back of the closet. As if she were standing out there, Lydia could sense there were at least three of them and they proceeded to wreck the room without abandon. The bed was torn; fluff and springs flying everywhere. The dresser came crashing, its contents spilling all over the floor.
Then one of the creatures appeared, sniffing the cracks of the sliding door to the closet. Tears filled Lydia's eyes as she remembered the picture on the news. She was going to end up like that if they found her. Suddenly the door to the closet crunched under the weight of the animal and it stalked slowly towards where the girl hid. Trying desperately not to allow her breathing to be heard, Lydia felt her tears falling down her cheeks, keeping her eyes shut.
Suddenly, hot, heavy breathing was in front of her. She knew what was there, knew it with every ounce of her being. What made her open her eyes, she didn't know. The next moment was filled with screams and loud, echoing barks. Lydia could feel blood pouring down her sides and arms as the animal's claws raked her body as if digging through her to find something inside. Her eyes began to grow heavy from loss of blood and suddenly one of the animals appeared in front of her, its hackles raised, a deep growl emitting from its throat. Lydia gulped and the coppery tang of blood stung her mouth. The thing reared back its head with a loud howl before moving back down and biting Lydia's shoulder.
Her final scream sent her into darkness.
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Gabriela learned her boyfriend had been two-timing her and writing her off as a brainless bimbo, so she drowned her heartache in reckless adventure. One sultry blackout night she tumbled into bed with a stranger, then slunk away at dawn, convinced she'd succumbed to a notorious playboy. She prayed she'd never see him again. Yet the man beneath those sheets was actually Wesley, the decisive, ice-cool, unshakeable CEO who signed her paychecks. Assuming her heart was elsewhere, Wesley returned to the office cloaked in calm, but every polite smile masked a dark surge of possessive jealousy.
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