Chapter 4: Confessions of a Werewolf
Background: Some pieces of this tale have yet to be written. The following takes place after her initial escape from the vampire Hector Cruor and her joining of a traveling carnival. She is quickly befriended by a young clown named Sean who becomes very smitten with her though the affections are never fully reciprocated.
Myka threw her things tearfully into a bag. Sean stepped through the open trailer door. "Wha-What are you doing?" She didn't look up but kept forcefully pushing her clothes deeper into the bag. He looked at her and examined her expression. "Myka, what's wrong?"
"You don't know what it's like. Sometimes, it just gets so bad. You don't know what it's like to look at someone the way I see them, a little more than a piece of meat. I instinctually hear their pulse, smell their sweat, and a rage burns within me. And I just want...I can't even say it. What you would think of me! What you must think even now…"
"Myka?"
"I just can't do it anymore. I can't stay here." She looked up at him for a second. "I…I can't get close to anyone. The passion is too much. When they get too close, when I feel their skin, smell their scent, when I see their veins, pulsing with blood, something changes inside of me. They are no longer dear to me, and I want...to harm them, and it's not because I hate them."
She resumed her packing. Sean grabbed her hand to make her stop and just stared at her in confusion as she continued to explain.
"It's worse then. But I can avoid such relationships even though I long for intimacy. But the fits still come. And they come without warning. When I see a person walking along my path alone at night, I begin to stoop slightly, walking with light footsteps, and I feel the need to...I have to set all my will to stop myself from attacking, tearing them apart. Teeth and nails to flesh and bones. I can almost taste it. The blood. The muscles ripping. I strain within my fleshy prison. I feel the changes. My heart pounds. My eyes dilate and begin to burn. My senses sharpen, my muscles tense. All the hair on my body stands on end, and my skin feels like it is boiling off. And my teeth. I can feel them. Feel them growing as my mouth begins to water eager for…" she looked down at Sean's hand and pulled away. "Human flesh, that forbidden prey." She looked directly at him.
"I don't know how much longer I can fight it. I'm afraid. I'm afraid of hurting someone, hurting you. I've trained myself for years. The more I repress it, the more it builds. It's gotten to the point where it's not a matter of if I snap, but when. And when I do…" She turned her head back down toward her suitcase. "I should leave. I don't know why I thought it would be safe for me to be here. Everyone has been so kind and understanding, but in the end, even these people could never understand. I am a monster."
"No, Myka, you're not."
Myka's voice was strained with frustration. "Yes, I am Sean! I'm…I'm…"
Sean leaned forward. "Whatever it is, Myka, it doesn't matter. You belong here. I need yo-"
"I'm a werewolf."
Sean started. "Wha-what?" He tried not to smile in disbelief.
"I am a werewolf. Didn't you listen to anything I just said? I hurt people."
"That's not possible." Sean shook his head. "I know you. You would never hurt someone unless they deserved it." He scanned her stony face, and suddenly was aware that everything she said was true. "Myka." He touched her shoulder. "It's not you who does those things. It's something else."
"Well, whatever it is, I can't control it. That means I'm a danger to everyone around me."
Sean sighed. "Why all of a sudden do you have to leave? Why, why now?"
"Sean, you're my best friend, and I care for you so much." She placed her hand on his and smiled sadly.
Sean's heart felt like it was breaking. He felt his chin begin to tremble and his eyes begin to fill with tears. "You," he choked back a sob, "you can't leave." He muttered despairingly, knowing the futility of his words.
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