Werewolf Tale Take III - Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Her backpack landed on the scratched hardwood floor near the entrance of her apartment with a loud thud. After a ten hour shift, Knack did not have the will or energy to place the bag down gently. She fought with the elastic holding her mass of curly brown hair back from her face and reminded herself for the hundredth time that she needed to shave her head and be done with it though she knew she’d never have the courage. Once her hair was free, she walked towards the tiny kitchen kicking her shoes off as she went not caring where they ended up. She cared for little as she filled her tea pot with water and threw it on the stove. Soon she had a mug of steaming green tea and allowed herself to sink into the beige fabric of her loveseat. Within a few minutes her hands began typing away at her laptop on her daily plight.

Ever since she was bitten just over two years ago, Knack spent almost every moment of her free time trying to gather as much information on werewolves as possible. After a year she had given up hope on finding a cure but she could not stop herself from emerging into all things related to her curse. She dug into the myth and history, tracked news stories regarding animal attacks, and even spoke to others who claimed they were also afflicted. Her hard drive contained all the data she came across, her email carried contacts she had amassed in her searching, and one wall of her living room stood decorated with recent news stories and cases she wanted to follow up on if possible. To her alarm, a string of unsolved animals attacks popped up in her city over the last two months. Knack purposefully chose her residence to separate herself from others of her kind but now they encroached on her front door.

She uncurled her legs and slowly slipped off the loveseat as she made her way to the articles tacked to her wall. Each story had common denominators mainly that each victim had been attacked at night during a phase of the full moon by a large animal with some newspapers claiming a wide range of possibly animal suspects including pumas, bears, and wolves. None of the victims survived and no witnesses could be located leaving investigators scratching their heads. Knack knew the signs too well but unlike the poor souls described in the text scrawled across her wall she had lived and the nightmare of her attack often woke her from the deepest of slumber. Even the brief remembrance of that evening caused her to shiver as she turned away from the wall back towards the comfort of her loveseat.

This time as her fingers eased over the keyboard she opened her email. With slight hesitation she clicked compose. Though she purposefully built up contacts she tried to not utilize them as she detested the thought of needing help and getting other involved in her fight but she needed information and she knew just the person.

Chapter 1 - Werewolf Tale Take III

So, I write (haven't in awhile to be fair) and this is my third attempt, if not more, of this story that has floated around in my head for years.

Chapter 1

The line extended outside the small cafe spilling out onto the sidewalk outside bustling with commuters and students anxious to get to their destinations before the words “you’re late” could be ushered. Being one of a handful of shops not belonging to any big chain, Caffeine Wonders drew a large crowd who wanted something out of the ordinary. Most of the customers who entered understood that orders took a little longer than other places but were satisfied that their beverages were made with more care and better ingredients but today one of the customers didn’t get that memo.

She stood near the counter wearing a flashy, most likely expensive, suit ensemble carrying a designer purse and tapping the tip of one of her red heels against the tiled floor in a show of exasperation. When her tapping didn’t garner the attention she hoped for she pulled out her phone, glared down at the screen, let out a loud sigh, and repeated the set of actions several times. A few moments later when the woman didn’t have her coffee in hand she nearly shouted, startling a few others standing nearby, “Where is my coffee? I ordered it over five minutes ago and I don’t have time to waste.”

    

Knack having worked whipping up caffeinated beverages for a living for close to two years had experience her fair share of irate customers but the woman still using her shoes as a carrier for morse code picked the wrong morning to expect miracles out of the swamped worker. Knack raised her eyes for a brief moment from the cup and mug in her hand to fully examine the woman. In the short span of time that her lids closed and plummeted her into darkness Knack imagined throwing the contents of her hands onto the floor, coffee splattering in every direction, leaping over the counter towards the woman in the fancy suit and in one swift movement striking her hand through the delicate skin covering the neck and ripping her vocal chords from her throat. The image of the woman crumpling to the floor, hands failing to stop the blood pouring from the open wound, begin to form in Knack’s brain right before her eyes opened back to the actual world around her.

Instead of making her fantasy a reality, Knack mumbled a quick apology as she dumped in the non-fat half and half and two scoops of brown sugar the woman requested, popped the cap over the steaming liquid, and handed it over with a smile and their courtesy “hope you have a nice day” line. The woman snatched her coffee with a grunt, turned heel, and stormed out the door. Knack couldn’t help but smile at the look of some of the other patrons’ faces due to the woman’s behavior and gave quick thanks that the last phase of the full moon had finally passed giving her a short break before it all began again.