Part Sixty-Three

Adrian took half hour naps after each injection so as to keep to his routine of cutting me and injecting me. Every time I closed my eyes, he would stab me and I would jerk awake at the pain. I had lost track of time but it was dark and I reckoned I had been there for six or seven hours.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked him as he sat down with a water bottle and a box of crackers.

“My great-grandmother was a wolf. She thinned the blood by having children with a human man. History repeated itself and by the time my father was born, he knew the stories but couldn’t change, same with me.” Adrian didn’t look at me as he spoke.

“So you’re mad because you’re not a wolf?” I asked him confused.

He laughed at me but it sounded angry. “My uncle was a hunter before your father killed him after the explosion. He gave me valuable information on how to find you and ultimately the diaries I read convinced me that you all need to die.” I remembered the man in the house that I had killed. Not Malachi,