Daemon.

"Back to the same spot tonight?" Seymour questioned with a cunning smile.

"Why not?" I gave a rhetorical response.

We had a good experience at the club yesterday. Not only that but we each left with trophies in the shape of two attractive brunettes.

After discussions with possible partners, we were leaving the restaurant and making our way to the parking lot when I suddenly halted.

"What's that?" I inhaled deeply.

"What are you talking about?" Seymour inquired surprisingly.

A wonderful scent was hovering around.

I headed toward it instantly wanting to discover where it was coming from. Seymour rushed after me. I was pacing amongst passersby and prepared to speed to a jog.

"What's going on?" Seymour followed me with excitement.

"Don't you feel that smell?" I answered abruptly ignoring the traffic light as I crossed the walkway.

The cars honked and slowed down severely.

"What scent are you talking about, Daemon? There are thousands of them! Take it easy!

Seymour apologized to the drivers who sent a distinctive finger-wagging gesture at their temples expressing their opinion on us.

"I can't! I must find it..."

The source of the scent was concealed behind the corner.

I turned the corner and came to a dead stop. Seymour crashed into me while I was staring at a girl in a long black dress. She was petting a street cat.

The cat was happily bending her back, rubbing itself on the girl, and purring loudly.

I couldn't move or take my eyes off this view. I was only smelling the amazing aroma that emanated from the girl. Seymour was looking in the same direction, trying to figure out what drew my attention.

The girl smiled, adjusted her hair, and showed her face.

I was stunned. I recognized her.

"So..." Seymour murmured shifting his focus to me. "You were running like an insane to catch up... a cat?"

I ignored the question. I had no idea what was happening. Why does the girl smell that way? And why did I want to go up to her and bury my nose into her hair?

She turned towards us. I abruptly recoiled and hid behind the corner pulling Seymour with me.

"What the hell are you doing?!" my friend said as he attempted to repair his shirt.

If only I knew... I couldn't fathom my emotions. I didn't realize what was happening. I was afraid she would notice me.

Suddenly I instantly bent in half as if a strong electrical charge had rushed through my body. I groaned down the wall and collapsed onto my knees.

"What's wrong with you?" Seymour was terrified and squatted, supporting me with his elbow.

"I don't know..." I croaked and sought the source of the smell, leaning on my palm.

"Daemon!" Seymour stopped me when I began roaring.

People walking by slowed down next to us. Some of them even inquired if I needed help but Seymour made it clear that he would handle it himself. My friend shielded me from prying eyes, helped me stand up, and pulled me in the opposite direction.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Take it easy!" "Not here!" he demanded, grabbing my shoulder hard.

I knew it wasn't the appropriate place! But I couldn't help myself. It was difficult to breathe.

"We must leave," Seymour said, supporting me as I walked, despite my shaking.

He struggled to take me to his car and placed me into the back seat. About twenty minutes later, we were at my yard. Seymour almost got me to the lift. I became progressively worse there. As we ascended to the 17th floor, my companion fixed an uneasy look on me. I could hardly stand on my feet while leaning on Seymour and trying to keep my growing fangs under control. We were fortunate not to come across anyone upon leaving the lift.

Seymour found the key in my pocket as we reached the flat door. I put my back against the wall and slowly slid down. Finally, I was dragged inside and assisted to the sofa. I crashed on it and ceased holding back.

"What the hell is going on?" Seymour gave in to his panic and nervously walked around the sofa.

He watched my body spasm.

"Why are you transforming?"

Instead of responding, I snarled deafly and rolled onto the floor from the sofa. I scratched the carpet with my growing claws. The muscles were exaggerating, and the heat was intolerable despite the open windows. Seymour was dictating my address to someone on the phone just before I lost consciousness.

The stinging anguish rushed across my body in waves. That smell got stuck in my nostrils. I began hallucinating. In my illusions, I attempted to find the source of the scent but couldn't discover it. I'm unsure how long that lasted, but gradually the pain subsided and I fell asleep.

The bedroom curtains were closed. I was unable to navigate in time. I was lying on the bed in my boxers, wondering what had happened. Groaning, I attempted to stretch my muscles. The body hardly obeyed. It felt like I had been steamrolled countless times.

"Good evening, my sleeping monster" Seymour's head appeared at the doorway.

He was leaning against a doorjamb, drinking coffee.

"What happened?" I stared at him.

"The ultimate embarrassment of my entire existence had happened!" Seymour entered the bedroom and sat in an armchair.

He seemed exhausted.

"I had to drag you on myself, save the carpet you almost tore into the stripes, then I had to undress you and carry you to the bed"

"Let's keep it between us," I stated while grinning.

"It's far too late. The doctor witnessed everything, and now you have to marry me." 

He attempted to lighten the mood with humour, but it was obvious from his tone that he was excited.

"What doctor?" I lifted myself using my elbows.

"Ours. A regular one would flee, and I would be forced to pursue and devour him."

He took a sip from a cup of coffee, sighed, and added in a grave voice, 

"We had to inject you with a horse dose of tranquillizer. You were feverish. Now, explain to me what happened.

"I have no slightest idea..."

Seymour took another sip of coffee,

"The doctor confirmed the same. "Who was the girl you chased yesterday?"

"Diana" I gasped.

My chest seemed to have been grasped.

"Do you know her?" My pal was astonished.

"I've used to know." She's my ex."

Fragments of memories began to occur in my head: I chased Diana in oblivion but failed to catch her. I still felt that smell that I was so drawn to. I wanted to haste find her.

"Tell me everything," urged Seymour displaying his willingness to listen.

So, I told him everything, except for a few moments. This time, I didn't fool myself as I did nearly 2 years ago when Diana and I broke up. The fact is, it was my fault. I've always known that, but I've blocked out all recollections of her. A few months after we split ways, her image stopped ravaging me in my dreams. Plus, I wasn't quite up to sleep. My bed was warmed by multiple girls, but I experienced no romantic relationships after Diana. I tried everything to force her out of my mind. I chose freedom and avoided confronting my conscience. I almost forgot Diana. And then I was turned.

"You are such a moron..." Seymour concluded as I culminated my story.

"I know" I agreed with my friend's reasonable conclusion. "I tracked the smell. I didn't expect it to be hers."

"Well, it's getting progressively exciting... Are you confident it's about the scent?

"Yes. It's continuing to linger in my head." 

As I said these words, I felt the wolf inside me begin to scratch and howl. I clutched to the mattress and moaned.

"Get up," Seymour urged, rising from the armchair. "It's time for an investigative experiment. We can't keep you sedated all the time, no matter how adorable you look asleep."