“I’m not messing with you. Promise!” Matt pulled a camera from behind him and started tinkering. “Though I had an inkling this would be difficult for you to believe, so I took this.”
Matt handed him the camera, and it started playing a video. The timestamp reads early this morning, around five, just before the sun rose. It was still dark inside the greenhouse, except for the sparse light fixtures. In the middle of the screen was a dog-like creature, except that this creature was too big to be a dog. It was barely moving, asleep under a blanket he quickly recognized to be the one he had himself wrapped in. The candles placed in a circle were glowing with light purple flames. Light was creeping over the landscape, and as it did, the monstrous creature was decreasing in size. Sunlight hit, and it vanished underneath the blanket, with only his head sticking out.
Morgan’s mind went blank trying to process what he just saw, and Matt’s wide smile showing off his teeth didn’t help. He knew Matt was experimenting with filmmaking, but he would not have been able to edit something like this so quickly. He opened his mouth in an attempt to say something to reject what he saw, but all that left him were gasps of disbelief.
“I know, right. It’s a little blurry because the lighting was terrible, but I think I made it work.”
“I don’t remember any of this,” he said, shoving the camera back at Matt, his head shaking in denial of what he just saw. “Werewolves aren’t real. This video isn’t real. It can’t be.” He wasn’t telling Matt, but himself more so. Deep down, he somewhat knows it to be true.
“Well, Doc did say the first night was going to be a blur to you. Are you feeling okay though? You’re body hurting anywhere?”
It hurts everywhere.
Matt then pulled a small bottle from behind him. It was filled with a purple powder that he placed carefully on Morgan's palm, apologizing for what he was about to do. He moved it close to Morgan's face, sending an itch to his nose. The awful stink was coming from it, and when Matt suddenly blew the powder in his face, it sent a searing sensation through his nostrils like an ignited flame running down his lungs.
Morgan sprang forward, catching Matt by the collar of his shirt and knocking the bottle away with force, pulling Matt closer as he growled, teeth clenched, and eyes enraged. The next thing on his mind was to bite Matt, dig into his body, and tear him flesh from flesh for what he did. He was ready to bite, staring down at his meek prey, ready to strike, until he saw his best friend's eyes staring back at him. There was no fear on them, and they pulled Morgan back to his senses.
Backing down slowly gave him some time to realize what he was just about to do. Shame and guilt filled his gut, knowing how close he was to harming his best friend, and he quickly showered Matt with apologies.
“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
“What the hell is that thing anyway?”
“Wolfsbane. He said the purple ones sting the most. Look at your hands. And can you feel those in your mouth?”
“I think I now know what a chimney feels like.” The flame was still tracing his throat. More importantly, he could feel his fangs have grown sharper within his mouth. The same could be said for the nails on his hands. He tried shaking them off as if a dream, but it did not make them disappear.
“There are patches of this plant further back. Lola’s been growing a lot of these, and for good reasons. Apparently, there are a lot of werewolves in Lawton. Wolfsbane is said to come from the deepest parts of the underworld, where the flames are so strong that even the hellhounds can’t withstand them. Cool, isn’t it?”
“Oh my God, I am a werewolf.” It was an epiphany Morgan never thought he would have in his lifetime. He fell back to the ground, staring back at the empty sky, as the idea really sank in.
“Yep.” It was a blunt confirmation coming from Matt, who seemed to be honestly delighted by the idea.
“This should not be happening.” If he could, Morgan would scream at the top of his lungs and flail around like a child who just had a lollipop taken away from him, but even just raising a finger sends his whole body into pain. “I’m just a kid who wants to lead my team to a basketball championship. I don’t want to be a monster.”
“You wanna switch?”
Morgan laughed, but it seems Matt was being serious. “Why would anyone want to be a monster? I almost bit your head off a while ago. Aren’t you scared? This is scary. Terrying. Aren't you scared?!”
No was Matt’s quick and solid response. He did not even hesitate. “You’re my best friend. You won’t ever hurt me. You didn’t even when you were in your werewolf form last night. You'll learn to master and control it. Doc will help us figure it out.”
“How would Doc know much about this? Don’t tell me he’s a werewolf too.”
Matt shook his head. There was a hint of disappointment in his voice for just a short while before he returned to being happy. “He’s a witch.”
If his headache got worse, he could not even tell at this point. Now Doc is a witch. Maybe it would be better to just go along with it until he passes out from the pain.
“I come from a family of witches.” Matt sighed and bowed his head.
“That means you’re a witch too, right?” Morgan assumed this was something Matt would be ecstatic about. He had always been interested in the paranormal and the supernatural. “Or shouldn’t you be called a wizard?”
“Doc insisted that the titles wizard, warlock, and sage are reserved for the few elite witches in the community. Most of them are assholes too, according to him. It doesn’t really matter. ‘Cause I’m not a witch. I’m a squib!”
“How are you a squid?”
“I’ve lent you the books years ago! You should’ve read past the order by now.” Matt's face dropped longer as he sighed once again, a warning that this would continue throughout the day. “Every once in a while, someone in the family will be born without access to magic. Technically speaking, my magic is dormant. I can still help brew potions or be a stand-in when casting spells. Doc wanted to spare me the hurt and is planning to tell me about the whole thing after my first child is born. But you know, it’s not adolescence without trauma, and so the universe decided to let out the secret now. As if I didn’t have other disappointments to think about already. Are you feeling all better? Let’s go get breakfast, and I’ll catch you up on a few more things.”
Morgan agreed. It’s still more painful compared to a day’s worth of heavy training, but it is bearable now. “Before we go anywhere, could you get me something to wear first.”
“Of course! I brought you your clothes. Here.”
“Couldn’t you have led with that?”