Chapter four

My dreams that night were sweat-filled nightmares filled with wolves and the bastard vampire that attacked me. He repeatedly shoved me against the wall and taunted me. He laughed more the more I bled. The wolves circled, growled, and attacked at random. Derek loomed over me, earnestly telling me things that screamed at me. I had died. I used to be a werewolf. I used to be a vampire. I'd never be able to return. All of my friends and family are no longer with me. Throughout it all, I was engulfed in a vortex of agony that enveloped me.

My monitors must have given me away because the nurse came in and injected me with something that put me under so deep that my nightmares couldn't reach me.

Dr. Scott removed the cast from my arm in the morning, and I spent over an hour in the shower washing my skin and hair until I couldn't smell anything except soap. The only thing that remained hurting was my neck, so I washed it. I was shaky and trembling at the end of the shower, but I made it on my own.

I was a bit surprised when I dried my hair. My gray hair used to be quite coarse, almost wiry. But it felt just like my regular hair, smooth and silky with just enough curl to provide movement. It felt strange seeing myself in the bathroom mirror. It seemed like I was stuck in the body of someone else. I'd never been that skinny before. Everyone in my family was overweight, and I had often wondered what it would be like to be one of those ladies that all the guys desired. I wasn't sure whether anybody would want me, but the new physique was drastically different.

There was no clothing in sight, but a spotless robe awaited me on my newly made bed. I slipped it on and got an extra blanket to throw over my shoulders like a robe. I was sick of staying in bed, so I opened the curtains and drew a chair near the window. I requested a pad of paper and a pen from a nurse who came to check on me and bring me food. She arched an eyebrow at me but handed them over without hesitation.

The view outside my window worried me. Any hospital I'd ever been to previously had a fairly metropolitan view out the window. Office buildings, parking lots, and perhaps a few residences; but not here. My view was of a well-kept grass with a little garden complete with seats and a fountain. I could see a forest in the distance. There was no other structure in sight. The only logical conclusion was that I was in some private hospital, similar to a rehab center for addicts and the crazy. It didn't worry me much. I couldn't do anything about it. All I wanted to know was where I was.

I began jotting down all of the questions I wanted to ask Derek. Things I couldn't bring myself to ask last night. Things he said to me that made no sense. What was I going to do now that I had to start all over again? Is there any way I could speak to Samuel one final time?

I knew Derek would say no, but the thought of never speaking to my closest friend again tore me apart. It was almost as though he had died. Wasn't it the same thing to have him taken out of my life through no fault of my own, with no explanations or goodbyes? At least I knew he was secure and could continue living his life, but it didn't make my pain go away.

Samuel Nash had been my only true family for the previous several years. I didn't have anybody else once my parents died. I was an only kid with a small number of cousins. I didn't know any of them. My mother had died a few months prior, although she had relocated down South a few years previously. And, although I loved her, our relationship was never easy. My limit was one visit every year, and when it was over, I typically promised never to return.

So Samuel was the man for me. He was part of my family. He lived approximately 10 hours away by driving, but we chatted on the phone every day. We managed to visit each other every two or three months for a long weekend when we did nothing but watch movies and enjoy one another's company. Even though we were just friends, he was the most significant person in my life. I couldn't take the thought of losing Samuel, and I couldn't handle the thought of Derek telling me I'd never see or speak to him again, so I marked that question off my list.

Dr. Scott found me there, compiling my questions list and contemplating the view from my window. He sat down next to me and rested his feet on the thick ledge.

"Nice view," I said with a faint, sardonic grin, motioning to the gardens.

He smiled and closed his eyes, leaning against the back of the chair. "We try."

Then, to demonstrate that he'd understood my hidden inquiry, "We're not your typical hospital. It's more of a specialized clinic that assists individuals with particular needs like yourself."

I did chuckle this time, "What about special needs? Like furring up and hissing at you as you attempt to stitch me up?"

He, too, laughed "That's right. All things considered, you were extremely well-behaved. You did not bite anybody. You merely let us know you were in agony and upset about us putting additional suffering on you, even though we were just trying to assist."

"So, how many special needs situations do you get? This structure does not seem to be very large."

"No, there aren't too many. On this floor, we have roughly twenty rooms. A quarter of them is normally present at any one moment. The treatment and testing rooms are all underground, underneath us. When someone is snarling and threatening to tear your neck out, you can't risk them breaking through a window and fleeing."

That made me stop for a moment. My room was on the bottom level of what looked to be a one-story structure. My window was sealed shut with no evident method to open it, and the glass was somewhat thicker than usual. Was it only energy efficient, or was it more?

"I can understand the safety precautions, but it makes me wonder; am I a patient or a prisoner?"

"Let's just assume you're a guest for now," he sighed. You can't go right now, but you're also not a prisoner. It goes beyond that. Even with your current rate of improvement, you need a bit more time to recover. You should also learn more about who you are today and what to anticipate from life once you leave here. Finally, since you're beginning over in that life as a new person, there will be paperwork and issues to iron out with the government."

"Is it the government? They are aware of...," I paused. I wasn't sure I could say it since it meant acknowledging what I'd become, and I wasn't sure I believed it.

"Oh, yeah," he said as he opened his eyes and glanced at me. They know almost everything. In truth, werewolves may live in peace and secret due to the government and the assistance it provides to individuals like you. What do you think the general population would think if they discovered werewolves and vampires weren't simply stories? Do you honestly believe you'd be able to live a regular life? No. For the sake of public safety, you'd most likely spend your life in jail like a caged animal. That is, assuming you weren't slain outright by a furious crowd once your secret was revealed.

"Elizabeth, I know it's difficult to leave all you've ever known and start again. You will be sad and hurt for a time. But we do this for your protection and the safety of your loved ones. An enraged crowd would not be satisfied with just you. They'd rip the individuals standing next to you apart as well. Then they'd start looking for more like you, putting every werewolf at risk. Elizabeth, it's not just your secret. Right now, you have complete control over your life. Please don't let us down."

Dr. Scott reached out to grip my hand gently. When he touched me, time seemed to stop and my whole world vanished. I was dressed in my hospital gown, but I was in a new place. It belonged to someone. The cabinets were vintage, maybe aluminum, and glossy white. The counters were Formica with a design that reminded me of a 1950s restaurant. The floor was grey linoleum tiled, and the appliances were gleaming white antiques: a tiny refrigerator and a four-burner gas stove. There was no dishwasher or top cabinets, just rows of lovely shelves filled high with plates, bowls, glasses, and another assorted crockery.

A lady stood at the sink, washing dishes. Her brown hair was tied back into a tight bun at the back of her head. She was dressed in an out-of-date gown. The hem was several inches below her knees and was a pale blue. She wore a white apron with ruffled borders and a tight tie around her waist over it. Her tight shoulders and set line of her jaw betrayed her disapproval and fury.

Dr. Scott took a position halfway across the kitchen. He looked precisely like the guy who had been sitting next to me in the hospital, but he was dressed completely differently. He was dressed in tan slacks, white socks, and penny shoes. His oxford shirt was precisely buttoned, and his hair was beautifully groomed into a lovely ducktail. He didn't appear to see me standing there; his focus was all on the other woman.

"Mother, please, you can't do this."

She turned to face him. Her demeanor and tone were both ice cold "You already know how I feel about it. Because of this stupidity, I lost your father. I told you not to follow in his footsteps, yet you did it anyway. You went and transformed yourself. So, congratulations. But there will be no more of you in my home. I'm not going to worry and wait as I used to every time your father went out to howl at the moon. I will not have another man come to my door and tell me you died the same way he did. This was the only thing I ever requested of you, yet you still refused."

"Please, Mother, don't you see? I had no choice. This way, I can take care of you forever."

"I don't need you to look after me. For the last three years, I've been taking good care of both of us. What I need is that my kid has a regular existence. You were aware of how I felt and made your decision accordingly. It will not be tolerated by me. This is something I will never do again. You are not my son anymore. You collect your belongings and go. Go live with people that are similar to you. You are no longer welcome in this home. Now go."

I caught a glimpse of his heartbroken face before my thoughts swirled and I was back in my hospital chair. Dr. Scott was standing above me, issuing instructions to the oncoming crowd.

"Elizabeth, are you all right? What occurred? Let's get you back into bed." He and an orderly began to pull me out of the chair.

"No, please. stop. I'm OK; I just need a moment." I turned to face Dr. Scott "I'm OK. But could you just ask them all to allow me a few minutes? I promise I'm OK."

He looked me in the eyes with a penlight, took my pulse, and nodded to the others. "I believe she is safe for the time being. Go ahead and contact me if I need you again." Dr. Scott squatted next to my chair as they all filed out of the room.

"Elizabeth, something occurred when I touched you. You were stiff as a board and froze. Your eyes sprung up, and your pupils dilated until just a small ring of your iris remained. I was afraid you were having a seizure. I called for help, but soon as they arrived, you snapped out of it. I'm interested in doing some tests. I'm not sure what's going on. I know you claim you're OK, but you suffered a very serious head injury, which concerns me. I want to make certain that everything is in order."

I turned my head and looked him in the eyes. I needed to know whether what I was going to say was true.

"Your mother expelled you. She said her son was no longer alive. She forced you to leave your house and ordered you never to return. You, too, are a wolf, aren't you?"

Dr. Scott tensed and remained motionless. His expression of shock made me feel like a total jerk for sucker-punching him like that. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to harm you," I said as I stretched out and placed my palm on his face.

He stroked my hand and rose, turning his chair around to face me as we chatted. "It had been a long time. How did you find out? I only informed one person about what occurred that day. You had no way of knowing any of this."

"I witnessed it. I witnessed that moment when you squeezed my hand. Both of you were in the kitchen. Your mother was doing the dishes. She didn't want you to turn into a wolf, but you did, so she warned you to go and never return. Your father was a wolf, and you are one as well."

He nodded, "Yes, that's exactly how it happened. My father was killed in a hunting accident one night when he was out with his pack. She made me promise to never become a wolf."

"Why?"

"I think she blamed his death on being a werewolf. If he'd been human, he'd have been home in bed with her that night. Not out hunting."

His face was devoid of emotion, but Dr. Scott could not quite keep his voice under control. It was rough with grief and sorrow.

"After he died, she worked two jobs to make ends meet. The pack tried to help her, but she refused. I thought if I was a wolf, she would change her mind. I was wrong."

I reached over to touch his hand. He was so upset. "Did your mother ever forgive you?"

He shook his head, "No. She never did. She never spoke to me again after I left the house that day."

It made me feel sad. Dr. Scott was a decent guy who had just wanted to assist his mother. How could a mother abandon her child in such a way?

Dr. Scott spoke up, interrupting my thoughts. "Elizabeth, I was thinking about the time I touched you. You were able to witness it in some way. Have you ever experienced something similar?"

My head shook "No, not at all. I would sometimes get flashes of... intuition, I suppose. It was never an issue. Things like knowing if the phone rang and it was for me. I could occasionally tell when one of my buddies was unhappy about something. My mother also got a taste of it. She often remarked that most people only utilize 6% of their brains, but she and I used all eight." I smiled as I remembered. "It was never consistent, always sporadic and unexpected."

Dr. Scott was deep in thought. He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair while he considered what I said. "Elizabeth, vampires, like werewolves, have unique talents. Not the same ones, mind you, but as effective. Vampires, in addition to their physical prowess, may enter a person's mind. If they are feeling merciful, they may blot off what is going on. They mostly employ it to increase dread since the victim's bodily response to anxiety affects how they taste."

"Did the vampire make you hear things when he attacked you? Did you see anything that wasn't real?"

I agreed by nodding "Yes. I saw him murdering someone else. A young lady."

"That's what I assumed. The vampire that attacked you was of the second kind, one that feeds on fear. I believe having the vampire within your head has greatly enhanced your intuition, particularly if you previously had any."

"Will I be all right?"

I had already turned into a werewolf. That was enough to make me nervous. I didn't need the extra vision stuff, either.

Dr. Scott went over to touch my knee "I believe so. Don't get me wrong: I'll still do CAT scans and blood testing. I'd be remiss if I didn't. Hopefully, you have a bit more talent than the rest of us."

I gave him a sidelong glance "Joy. Because hair and fangs aren't enough to contend with."

He laughed and got to his feet to depart. "I'm off to order those tests. You just keep your cool and roll with the punches. I believe you will be completely fine."

That's OK. That's correct.

During my... vision? my note pad had fallen to the floor. Yes, I suppose that might be called a vision. I took it up and checked numerous items off my list. At the very least, my discussion with Dr. Scott provided some answers. Unfortunately, it generated a slew of others to which I don't believe any of us had answers.