“What, what is happening to me?” A Charley horse cramp seized her arms and legs.
“To put it bluntly, it’s part of my hair. A bit of fur. Think of a body fluid of mine. But, that’s not what you really want to ask me, is it?”
“Why?”
“We rise together or fall alone.” Nia smiled. “Oh, you mean why you?” She stroked Karen’s hair as it grew matted. “Since the beginning of time, humanity has come up with stories and legends to explain what you don’t understand. You cut yourselves off from your packs. You embrace loneliness. You fuck it and stroke it. You, Karen, love your panties and pennies. Now… now you can be a part of something greater than yourself.”
Nia sat on the cove base to Karen’s eye level as she continued talking, as Karen suffered debilitating contortions of muscle and nerves. “Soon severe symptoms are going to happen. Your sight, hearing, and smell become heightened. You’ll get increasingly aggressive and territorial. I bet when you had your morning coffee, you did not plan for your day to be like this. Before nightfall, you will have the nervous system that destroys the pain response, a relentless instinct to hunt prey, and a state of uncontrollable rage, leading to violent and unpredictable behavior. The only resource you’re going to want is to procreate and increase the number of ferals. Karen, I have good news for you. Ferals have a limited shelf life.”
Karen’s eyes grew red and swollen as she squinted out from beneath bushy eyebrows. Her vision swallowed the light in the hallway with one impatient gulp. Juvenile canine fangs sliced the woman’s lips from within. Her fingernails sloshed off. If the Ebola virus mashed with rabies was here, it would be envious.
“The other good news is that the virus can live in the air, in soil, on plants, in water, and in the human body. It’s small enough to colonize a single thread of hair.”
Karen was bound to the pain as her bones cracked and shifted as her limbs contorted into grotesque forms. She cried out in agony, the sound echoing through the hallway. Terror filled the woman as a weird screeching sound made its way from within the frail body. It sounded like cutting glass mashed with wet sand. “And you know what? A wolf’s hair is thicker than a human’s. More space to populate. The prime role is to decompose. Deriving nutrients. In this way, because of our nature and yours, humans transformed into savage, monstrous beasts.” Nia’s eyes were like steel as she observed the metamorphosis. Her rational mind analyzed every detail, noting the changes in the human female’s physiology. She saw the agony and despair, but she also saw the human spirit fading into the fade under the instinctual nature surging to the forefront. Her humanity became overwhelmed by a bestial nature. Her eyes faded behind pure malevolence.
Karen’s body elongated, and sharp claws emerged from her fingertips. Nia could sense that the woman’s consciousness was slipping away, replaced by an innate animal.
Nia saw the tragedy in the woman’s plight, recognizing that she was no longer in control of her actions. For a moment, the old woman’s eyes locked with Nia’s unwavering gaze. It was as if a silent pleading passed to Nia—an acknowledgment of the darkness that lurked within the human soul and the inevitable cycle of life and death in the wild. As patchy fur began to sprout from the skin, the old woman’s twitch muscles signaled her to obey the puppeteer. She bounded away from Nia.
As the hallway bathed her in a cool, cream-colored glow, Nia turned away and settled on the base of the wall air conditioner. Marisol's voice echoed down the hall, chatting with her kids.
"Well, time's up." Nia headed swiftly toward the apartment Marisol had disappeared into earlier. She raised her hand, ready to knock, and the door swung open, revealing Sofia in all her captivating glory.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Sunlight poured through the window, illuminating Sofia's rich, dark waves of hair cascading like a waterfall down her shoulders. Hints of golden-brown strands shimmered like sunlight through autumn leaves. Her almond-shaped eyes, inherited from her Chinese father, sparkled with warmth and intelligence that instantly captivated Nia. Long, dark lashes framed them, adding sweetness to her gaze.
Sofia's full lips sported a playful smile, hinting at hidden sensuality beneath her sun-kissed skin. Her petite, perfectly proportioned frame moved with an effortless grace inherited from her mother. Clad in a cozy, fuzzy loungewear set, she somehow enhanced her captivating presence.
"Ah, Nia! Hola!" Sofia exclaimed with a playful drawl, her smile widening. "You finally graced my humble abode with your presence. Come in, come in!"
She stepped aside, gesturing grandly to invite Nia into the cozy apartment. As Nia entered, she couldn't help but soak in the warm, welcoming atmosphere. Sofia's confidence was palpable, radiating like a warm sunbeam. "I'm Sofia."
"It's good to see you too, Sofia," Nia replied, her eyes scanning the room. "You must be one of the pups?" she added, mirroring Sofia's playful smile. Three young men were on a couch watching TV. Reports of her uncle slaughtering a news anchor on air played in her mind, and Nia smiled to herself.
One of the men, shirtless with a dark brown beard and low faded hair, glanced at Nia before returning to the screen. The one beside him, wearing a trendy watch, a black tee, and dark blue jeans, tilted his warm smile at Nia as their eyes met. The third, looking like an older teenager in a stylish shirt with slight facial hair and a neat hairstyle, appeared contemplative as the TV volume decreased.
Sofia twirled a strand of hair, her bare feet padding softly on the floor. "Yep," she replied with a wink. "Gotta keep up appearances. But speaking of appearances, have you met my mother's culinary masterpiece?"
A delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen, drawing Nia's attention. She peeked past Sofia to see Marisol bustling around, her face aglow with pride as she put the finishing touches on a steaming dish.
"Wow, that aroma is intoxicating!" Nia exclaimed, her eyes widening. "I can't wait to dig in."
Sofia winked again, her confidence tinged with a hint of mischief. “Right? Come, let’s not keep her waiting.” She stepped aside again, gesturing towards the kitchen. Nia couldn’t resist the warm, inviting atmosphere that enveloped her. She followed Sofia, eager to meet Marisol and indulge in the feast that awaited them.
As Marisol turned from the stove, a radiant smile lit up her face. “¡Nía! ¡Me alegro mucho de que hayas podido lograrlo! ¡Ven, ven, que la comida se está enfriando!” (Nia! So glad you could make it! Come, come, the food’s getting cold!)
Nia tapped Marisol warmly on the shoulder, the love and pride evident in her eyes. “Thank you for inviting me, Marisol,” she said sincerely. “I’ve been so hungry.”
“¡Ahora a comer! (Now let’s eat!)” Marisol declared, leading the way to the dining table. The aroma of spices and herbs filled the air, and the sight of colorful dishes made Nia’s mouth water. This was more than just a meal; it was a celebration of shared culture and heritage, a gathering of loved ones that promised a warm and memorable evening.
The three men came to the table and made their own plates without spoken words. Each of them sat back and waited for Marisol to sit and open the table.
“Vamos muchachos, comer. (Come, boys, eat.)” Marisol’s mothering jolted them to grab forks and feast.
“These are more of your pups?” Nia said as she stabbed the flank of the veal.
“Sí. La última es la chica más joven. Ella está con sus primas ahora mismo. (Yes. My last one is the youngest girl. She’s with her cousins right now.)” Marisol swiped a cloth napkin over her lap.
The youngest boy playfully fought Sofia for meat on a serving platter. Marisol smiled and watched as they squabbled over dinner. “Juro que pareces humano, pero por alguna razón es como si tu cerebro estuviera al revés en esas cabezas tuyas. (I swear you look human, but for some reason it’s like your brain is upside down in those heads of yours.)”
Laughter filled the table. As the last chuckle echoed, Marisol grew somber as she stared at Nia. “¿Te envió él? (Did he send you?)”
“Only to be backup.”
“Todavía necesita uno más. (He still needs one more.)”
“Yes. That’s why we’re here. He sent the Scorpion and Shadow to bring her.”
Marisol smirked confidently. “Ellas no la encontrarán. (They won’t find her.) No sin mis hijas. (Not without my children.)”
Sofia subtly urged her brothers to tidy the table as she stepped in silence with Nia toward the ambient glow of the television. Reports of werewolf attacks unfolded on the screen, oscillating between presenting them as factual events and downplaying them as mere fiction.