XAVIER DAMON IS A WEREWOLF

A werewolf?”

Everyone started gathering round little by little and very soon, the class was filled with students from different grades.

“How do you know?”

“Who told you so?”

“Come on, werewolves don’t exist!”

“You know Brad, he’s a liar.”

“I’M NOT LYING!” Brad screamed quieting the class down immediately. “And I’ve got proof.”

“Then show us,” someone said.

“Yeah,” another student supported. “Show us.”

“Show us,” a girl shouted.

“Show us,” everyone chorused.

“I would,” Brad grinned feeling like the hero. “If you would follow my terms.”

“What terms?” someone in the crowd asked

“Get me a sharp knife,” he smiled. “And hold the werewolf down.”

Xavier stared round at the crowd that thronged him, surprised that they were actually cool with Brad’s crazy ideas. A knife? And holding him down? He began to panic immediately and started thinking of the best way to escape what could turn out to be a very ugly situation so quick.

“Guys calm down, I’m not a werewolf,” he announced. “I’m Xavier Damon.”

“And how old are you?” Brad asked, running his fingers across the sharp blade that a classmate had provided.

“I’m thirteen for God’s sake,” Xavier cried feeling the blade pressed against his neck.

“Thirteen you say? What year were you born?” Brad asked.

“3^rd of October, 1909. Don’t kill me please,” Xavier was already crying. Some of his classmates gasped in horror while others laughed doubting the possibility.

“Not possible,” Melania frowned. “You can’t be a hundred and thirteen and still look this young. You aren’t Avatar Aang.” Everyone laughed and Xavier was pained seeing the girl he had started to crush on make jokes about him in the critical condition he was in.

“Now my third proof,” Brad announced and slashed Xavier’s middle finger with the blade. Everyone turned to watch, not sure of what to expect until it started to flow – ink black blood from the cut on his fingers.

“It’s a medical condition,” Xavier explained desperately. “Ma told me when I was 5. I was scared at first but it’s completely normal.”

“Not a medical condition,” Brad shook his head. “And not normal in the least. But if you want one more proof, I’ll risk a lifetime in jail to give you all that.”

Everyone gasped at the realization of what he wanted to do. Since werewolves couldn’t die except when stabbed in the heart with a silver weapon, a slash across his throat could prove the point. Before anyone could stop Brad from his crazy idea, he dragged the sharp blade across Xavier’s neck and everyone watched in horror as black blood sprayed from his neck all over the floor of the classroom. Xavier gasped and gurgled, spitting and coughing out black blood for a long time but he didn’t die. Students stared at him, surprised, expecting him to fall to the floor exhausted. He had lost enough blood to kill am adult instantly.

“I wasn’t lying,” Brad shouted. “Behold your werewolf.”

“Bravo,” Mrs. Megan walked in, clapping as Brad showed off. “What a show. I had my suspicions.”

“You promised to make me a Lycan,” he whispered loudly. “You’ve not yet fulfilled your part of the bargain.”

“As for that,” Mrs. Meg smiled walking to where they gathered at the center of the classroom. “Sadly, my king doesn’t think you’re smart enough to be in his pack.”

“But that wasn’t part of the deal!” Brad complained.

“My apologies,” she said. And in a flash, she changed into her wolf form. Before Brad could think of running, she tackled him to the ground and bit a large chunk of his stomach off, leaving both organs and intestines open.

Students screamed and ran in different directions and Xavier was lost in the crowd, trying to escape from his history teacher that desperately wanted him dead. He felt a tug on his arm and before he could cry, a pair of hands covered his mouth.

“Follow me if you want to live!” the voice roared.

They ran together, dodging through the crowd till they got outside the school compound. Someone was shouting “Find the two of them!” in the yard and he prayed the person wasn’t referring to him and his guardian angel.

“Who are you and why are we running?” Xavier asked panting.

“Layla,” she replied. I was a werewolf. Now this is all that’s left of me.”

“Layla,” he paused. “My sister.”

“This is not the time for games,” she frowned dragging him along. “I’ve been searching for you my whole life. You are one of us.”

“I’m not a werewolf,” Xavier shouted. “What’s wrong with all of you.”

“Xavier Damon,” she said holding him back. “You have been given a second chance.”

“A second chance at what?” he frowned.

“To avenge your people, our people, the people who killed our family.”

“Layla!” he turned to her. “Oh my God!”

“It took you so long,” she smiled. “You couldn’t recognize your little thief any more?”

“Layla, I’m so sorry,” he fell down crying. “I shouldn’t have called you names.”

“A little too late for all these don’t you think?”

“Layla…” he started again.

“I’m no more Layla,” she shook her head. “But you’re still Xavier. Avenge us.”

She howled, a high pitched howl that rang through the trees and then she changed. Xavier stared at her as she transformed into her werewolf form and ran deep into the forests leaving him with the wound on his neck, blood still spilling from it.

“I will avenge you Layla Damon,” he said through gritted teeth. “I promise.”