A SECOND CHANCE

“Wake up Xavier,”

Xavier opened his eyes slowly, squinting at the bright light shining above. He jumped up, suddenly aware of the surrounding. The sun was shining brightly in the sky and the winds blew gently, carrying along debris and fallen leaves all the way. Xavier spun around confused, wondering how he had slept off at home and woken up by the side of a busy road. Little children skidded along the road, their shoes with tyres and they all stared at him as they skidded past as though he was from an 1850 vintage collection. Some even pointed at him.

“What’s he wearing?” he heard them murmur.

“Looks like a 19^th century pauper,” another laughed.

“Think he slept on the road…oh the cold,” one said.

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re dressed up like an old farm boy.”

They all laughed and Xavier stared at his clothes wondering what was wrong about wearing an overcoat in the cold winter of 1922. He ignored them and walked on, wondering where his family house that had been standing on that spot for years, suddenly disappeared to that morning. He walked through an alley and marveled at the sight before him. Skyscrapers lined the streets of Manhattan and everyone walked about wearing suits and jackets. Looking at himself, he realized that he was actually the odd one there. His clothes were old and dirty, like they had been stored in an underground pit for years and as the children earlier noticed, they were 19^th century fashion. But wasn’t it 1922?

He turned around confused and headed back towards where he had woken up. He had to start from the scratch if he was going to have any clues about where he was and what was going on. Few meters away from where he woke up, he saw a house. It wasn’t exactly a big house but compared to where he had lived in all his life with his parents and siblings, it looked like heaven. He walked to the door and contemplated knocking. It seemed pretty quiet inside and he wondered if his parents had decided to surprise him and get a new house overnight. But a house couldn’t ever be quiet with Layla indoors. He waited for a while, hoping someone would notice him and ask him in or something but no one came around. Finally he decided to knock. He knocked at the door three times and waited for a reply. No one came. He knocked again and waited but there was still no reply. He turned around and started to leave but he was blocked by 3 boys.

“Yo. Whatcha wearing,” one of them said.

“My ma made it for me,” he replied, expecting another set of insults for his weird dress sense.

“Ain’t talking bout your rags bruh,” the biggest of the boys grunted. “What’s on your neck?”

Xavier looked around confused. “My head maybe?”

The other two burst out laughing and Xavier looked on, wondering what exactly was going on.

“Hey smart ass, think I’m joking here huh?” the biggest of the boys said sizing Xavier up with his eyes.

“I’m not looking for any trouble,” Xavier stammered. “Ma says I shouldn’t.”

“But where’s ma now huh?” he cracked his fingers and punched Xavier on the face.

Xavier fell to the tarred road bleeding from his nose and the boys rushed at him and started tugging the necklace on his neck.

“Come on, let go,” they urged him as he struggled with them for the necklace.

“I can’t,” Xavier cried. “Its mine. It was my dad’s and it was his dad’s before him. You can’t take it.”

“Well, watch me,” the boy said.

He punched Xavier hard on the nose till he passed out and he dragged the chain from his neck and turned it over in his hands.

“Silver,” he smiled. “This could get me a hundred bucks with a greedy merchant.” But the remaining two boys weren’t answering him anymore. They were crouched on the ground, staring intently at Xavier’s limp body on the tarred ground.

“What’s it?” he asked. “He dead? We better start moving.”

“Not that Brad,” the other replied. “Look at your hands.”

Brad stared down at his hands and then he saw it. The blood from the punch he had given Xavier was all over his hand and clothes. But that was not the problem. The blood was not red as expected. It was black. Shining black.

“What does this mean,” he turned to the other two boys.

“I’m not sure,” one said standing up. “But I’ve heard stories.”

“What stories?” Brad asked, eyeing him.

“Never heard the legend?” the boy asked. “Wolfmen.”

“Werewolves,” Brad laughed. “Don’t tell me you believe all that bullshit Jack.”

“I shouldn’t,” Jack frowned. “But they say wolfmen have black blood.”

“Doesn’t matter dumb ass,” Brad grunted, pushing Jack aside to assess Xavier on the ground.

“We should all just go home,” Billy, the last of the boys suggested.

“Yeah,” Jack nodded. “We’ll be in a lot of trouble if he is.”

Brad stood up and started towards the pair and they both backed away slowly knowing how dangerous he could be.

“No one leaves here till I say so,” Brad commanded.

“But what if he’s really a wolfman,” Billy asked. “He looks weird by the way. Look at his clothes, they’re old and worn out.”

Brad chuckled. “There’s no such thing as a wolfman, idiots. And even if there was, it wouldn’t be a weakling. Look at him, he can’t even defend himself.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Jack said. “We could get in big trouble.”

“You all are already in big trouble.”

The three of them turned towards the direction of the voice and stared down at the red haired girl standing in their front.

“And who are you?” Brad asked

“Not important,” she smiled and pointed towards Xavier. “But I’ll tell you who he is.”

“Go ahead,” Brad grunted impatiently.

“He is Xavier Damon, the last living werewolf and he died a hundred years ago.”