Created (Book 1 of the Created)

by Shaw, Shannon

  Chapter 7

  "Where am I?" I wondered aloud.

  My head was pounding. I was hoping it was a side effect of being targeted as a lab rat by a maniac. Running my hand over my head, a deep breath was drawn. Something did not feel right. Maybe it was the compressed positioning of being on my stomach or the lingering after effects of my ribs being remade, but I felt as if someone was trying to rip me apart. I tried to roll over which was unbearably painful, but at least I could move and I was free from being bound to the bed.

  Eyes opened, I was alarmed to find I was blind. Lying still, I waited to see if the condition was a permanent side effect of the experiment. Creeping, the edges of my field of vision turned from black to charcoal gray then a little less gray. It seemed my vision was feeling a temporary effect. The restoration to normal, if there was to ever be such a thing as normal, would be a slow process I surmised. Happy to be alive and unsure of my surroundings, I lay on my back surrounded by a scattering darkness on a softly textured squishy, mat that had the consistency of a shag carpet as I ran my hands across its surface.

  I seemed reasonably safe at the moment. My memory was fried. Items from mere seconds ago disappeared and others bounced away before I could capture them. Unsure of where, and afraid, I tried to remember anything about myself. It dawned on me quickly that I didn’t even know who I was.

  Terror set in as I fought to focus long enough to attempt to remember my own name. The terror was brief as a new need developed; hunger. I had to find food. I needed food. Rational thoughts were being shoved aside by desire for my next meal. The hunger was accompanied by searing pain in my abdomen that radiated outward. Once tiny, it grew infinitesimally until the pain and the need was one.

  My throat received the brunt of the burn. Swallowing was pointless, it only continued to burn.

  I needed to find a way to extinguish the hunger. The hunger pushed into my mouth and developed in a thirst. A red hot need to find nourishment overtook me. All I could think about was finding a cure for the ache. My mind was consumed by a single desire until I heard the crunch of what sounded like a dead leaf being trampled underfoot.

  The night sky was coming into view above me as well as the trees swaying in the evening breeze. Shadows were abundant before my eyes, but the pieces fit together. The sound could have been anything. I remembered that the night was full of sights and sounds though the night before me was not fully developed enough to see. I remembered enough of survival instinct to know the sound could have been a variety of animals or the wind.

  Relax, I told myself. Crunch.

  My heart began to race. Maybe it was something to eat, my mind reasoned. I fought back the thoughts. I had to find safety, I told myself. I had to find safety until my vision was restored and I could figure out what the hell was going on. Especially why I could not remember my name or why I was in the woods. With every thought of safety, my mind yelled about hunger.

  Inexplicably my body seemed possessed as my senses kicked into overdrive. My nose was rapturously presented with a banquet of odors, one of which smelled highly of musk. The musk contained traces of something familiar. Unsure of what to do, I lay still.

  My hands loved the sensation of the bed I was on. I knew it was moss now that I had a moment to reflect, but still no luck with my own name. It was frustrating.

  The musk drew nearer. More smells became pungent though one dominated my sinuses, sending them pulsing. The other scent was so strong, so close. I just couldn't put my finger on the odor until I heard the rapid, pulsing sniffing. A loud throaty grunt erupted. The deep snarl resembled that of a creature curious about a new unwanted item in its environment or a noise of excitement that found food lain out before it. I realized I knew the smell now, the smell was wet dog.

  The canine was close. My senses were telling me the animal was approaching slowly, but the direction was undeterminable. Was the creature circling? I eased to a sitting position cautious the beast would be provoked.

  My vision was spotty at best. The background of the forest outlined by the blue rays of the moon was clearly defined though the most I could determine were shapes with auras. Finer details were another issue, especially in the darker recesses where the moonlight could not penetrate through the tall pine trees above. The animal that was stalking me appeared more mirage than real as it darted between the dark and the light.

  Heavy panting had replaced the growls. The dog was unsure what to do. It continued the approach. Instinct told me I was being sized up. Closer, the animal pushed.

  The quiet of the woods amplified the displacement of ground clutter by the canine as it began to trace an ever narrowing loop around me.

  My eye sight was restored fully with a bright flash. The blinding light faded as fast as it appeared aside from a few orbs of a golden hue streaking across my eyes. The darkness of night, even without the moonlight, was as easy to see through as if it had been morning. The world seemed so new, fresh. The colors were alive, but I did not have the time to enjoy the wonderful world exploding before my eyes because I had an animal stalking me.

  Still seated, I spun on my seat of velvety moss to face my attacker. Instantly I was horror stricken at what was standing before my eyes. Even in my confused state I knew what I was seeing wasn't possible.

  There before me was a slobbering, teeth bared, black gummed, gray wolf within twenty feet of my former make shift bed where I was seated. The impossibility was not the wolf. The impossibility was the fact the wolf at the front shoulder was well over six foot tall. The head was as wide as my chest, the fangs both top and bottom were six inches at the least with a diameter bigger than the pinky finger on my hand.

  I was scared and internally a tide of emotional shift was occurring. I was on the verge of panic as the animal stared at me with huge, black eyes. The head was low toward the ground as the wolf paced from left to right then back along an identical path.

  I chose to stand to face my demise. I was fearful, yet I felt empowered. Was I powerful enough to die as a man was the question? I rose from my seat, bracing myself against a sudden rush. The attack was imminent as the beast crouched to spring towards me if I made a wrong move. I knew a single bite from the overly large wolf would be fatal to my small body, but at least the end would be swift.

  The lack of impending size on my behalf made me feel that intimidation would not benefit me. My eyes scanned the surrounding ground for a weapon that I could use as a deterrent because I wasn't sure if a limb or stick could actually slow the muscular animal down.

  The beast glared at me, his mouth agape. If a wolf was capable of such expressions, I would have thought the creature was smiling or perhaps toying with me. His head shot up, nose into the wind. He turned the massive head from one side to another in a wide arc.

  I had also caught the same scent wafting gently in the slight breeze. The scent was cinnamon, though faint, mixed with the pungent smell of dog. The source of the odor was some distance away. I could not afford to worry about the beautiful aroma because if I did not do something soon then assuredly I was going to die.

  Distracted with the foreign smell, the wolf did not initially notice me stepping backwards as I tried to increase the distance between my position and the gigantic creature. With a lightning quick snap of the head, the beast returned its full attention to me.

  I knew why, the new smell was gone from the wind. What was I going to do?

  The wolf eased forward, mouth open. The twenty feet from before, and the additional two I added, had dissolved into eighteen feet or so. An animal of this size and musculature would be upon me in two running strides if I did not make a move. There would be no option to run. This beast would have me before I could get twenty yards.

  I maintained eye contact and fought with my nerves to flee. Something inside told me to hold my ground, but fear was clambering to issue a scream as the wolf assumed an attack stance. Steadying myself, I closed my eyes to face a sure death.

  "What are you going to
do wolf?" I whispered.

  Before the wolf could answer, a long hollow yelp escaped an animal. I hoped it was the wolf. The distressed animal issued the painful cry from nearby that sounded like it was from the wolf. The exclamation of discomfort was simultaneous to a deep thud of something striking an extreme muscle mass. The deep thud was followed by a sound similar to a tree being taken to the ground. Eyes welded shut by uncertainty; my ears were treated to a cacophony of unusual sounds when the large object was driven to the ground. There was a scattering of dust and the rustling of debris as the ground was violently disturbed. The explosion of sorts caused me to cough and open my eyes to see what had transpired.

  Startled and confused are weak explanations of the bewilderment I experienced when I was greeted with the wolf stunned upon the ground, eyes shut, laboring, being stood over by a human figure.

  The figure was wearing a black cape made of leather with the collar upturned. The hair was as black as the darkness that was present in the surrounding shadows. The figure's shoes spoke of black leather affixed with matching buckles of the same color.

  The wolf even on its side was almost as tall as the diminutive figure standing at the ready to battle again. The surprise, but welcomed guest, turned to face me in a flourish of cape fluttering and gracefulness. Soon the figure was within three feet before me when I realized my benefactor was an attractive female several inches shorter than my six foot two inch frame. Quietly alluring, the female did not say anything but simply glared at my surely puzzled expression.

  The female was dressed in an outfit more fitting of a gothic castle motif with a touch of Victoria's Secret. She wore black from her boots to her cape with a splash of red on her corset with black boning. The corset exposed a perfectly formed pair of breasts and shapely torso, more movie starlet in appearance than a heroine in the middle of a dark forest battling a gigantic wolf.

  I tore my eyes from her chest, scanning her soft sensual neck to her perfectly proportioned, slightly round face. She was pretty in a way that could disarm any man. Her hair hung in long, wavy trusses of silken black with blunt bangs above her smoky eye shadow that ended in a flourish that outlined her sparkling brown eyes. Her eyes shimmered similar to that of diamonds underneath a spotlight.

  Neither of us spoke. I couldn't have even if I had desperately wanted.

  She flashed a devilish grin, displaying dazzlingly white teeth with a pair of fangs glistening in the moonlight where her canine teeth should have been. At this point the fangs were of small circumstance when compared to the other things I had already experienced in the past half hour.

  Noticing again the twinkle in her eyes when she smiled, my heart leapt to my throat; my mouth became dry. The events caused me to momentarily forget the hunger pains. My mind was filled with thoughts of my savior and the hunger that was absorbing me in waves. The pains in my stomach caused me to double over. I wanted to act tough for the sexy stranger, but I was incapable.

  A low groan of awakening was emitted from the formerly unconscious wolf as it shook off the effects of being struck by the ravishing beauty standing between us.

  I straightened as I fought the torturous sensation to look over her shoulder to see the animal roll upright then rub its nose on the ground for a moment. Rising to its hunches, the wolf sized up the lady who had knocked him out. Sufficiently confident the beast could recapture the advantage, the wolf started to snarl. Teeth exposed, the animal appeared to be righteously pissed. Drool began to form and drip as the wolf salivated.

  I looked to the young lady in front of me who did not appear worried. She still wore her sexy smile as well as she wore her corset.

  With a slight head tilt, her fangs retracted before she spoke, her voice feminine and sweet. "I think it’s time for you to go home for the night big fella."

  The wolf answered with a gravelly voice that was other worldly, more growl than spoken word. The words began bursting forth in short simple sentences. "He is mine....Go....Both will die."

  The leather of her gloves tightened as she clinched her fists. Turning her head to the right she spoke, "John leave or the next time we tangle you will not be so lucky. He is one of ours."

  John replied with a guttural retort that was much clearer than his previous attempt. "I know what he is. I can smell the deadness within his blood. Soon he will be another pretender like the rest of your clan. I thought I would take him from this world and save Mathias of having to dispose of another failed experiment."

  The striking female spun eloquently to face John, who was more imposing knowing that he could talk.

  She firmly spoke in a combination of sultriness and a hiss, "The rules of the Farm are not to be violated. You know we are at peace within the boundaries as established by Chadron. Besides, you know better than trying to grab a changeling before the turning is finalized. We are not the savages of our predecessors, but we will protect those of our kind. Leave or die."

  The pleasantries were finished. John sat down and studied the much smaller woman. Even seated, his massive head and chest loomed over her. He panted heavily for an eternity before getting up quickly to leave. Walking away, his voice a snarl he called, "This is not over vampire bitch."

  Vampire, the word hung in the air, swirling around my head as we watched the wolf named John break into a trot then a lope. The gray fur of the beast's coat vanished amongst the shadows of the forest.

  The vampire casually turned to face me. The knowledge of her true nature hung in my throat as I contemplated the meaning of the conversation I had witnessed mere seconds ago. She had called me a changeling; part of her world.

  Before I could ask about the whole damn crazy night, the vampire hid her exposed fangs and extended her hand. "I am Veronica, and after saving your ass, it looks like I am now your tour guide into the world of the undead and the mythical."

  Taking her delicate hand in mine, I shook it passively, afraid of becoming a victim to the sexy vampire. Though looking small and fragile, the hand was smooth and soft to the touch, but the underlying bone structure felt as it were made of granite. She was an apex predator. If she wanted to attack me I would be no match. I imagined my throat laid open, her mouth and face smeared with blood. I shuddered.

  I felt myself shutting down. My brain was taxed as I tried to comprehend what had happened since my awakening, setting aside my desire to know my name or why I was in the forest in the middle of the night. Those answers would come soon enough I hoped.

  She was standing in a shaft of light created by the moon peeking through the clump of trees surrounding us. She was gorgeous. Her dark locks wistfully moving in the warm summer breeze that had begun to blow. Knowing what she was did not deter me from longing to continue looking at her. Arching an eyebrow, she waited for seconds then annoyed she pursed her lips.

  Strolling by me, Veronica had started walking away into the night without extending an acknowledgement for me to join her. Looking around at the dancing shadows of the woods that seemed to be closing in, I noticed the flickering of blinking eyes watching us. I decided vampire or not that I needed to join her.

  I took a couple of clumsy steps, almost falling on the second, and then settled into a gliding stride that allowed me to overtake her quicker than expected. My head was on a swivel searching for the return of John or something much worse.

  She must have sensed my uneasiness. "Don't worry about John, he is long gone. His kind is mostly bark. The best way to deal with the GW3s is to not take their shit. Once they know you mean business then most will back down."

  "GW3s? I hate being a dumbass, but remember you did offer to be my tour guide." There were other things I was aching to know, but I had to be patient so I thought levity might work.

  She answered, "Generation Wolf 3. Don't mention it. The walk at this human pace will take a while so I will try to answer as much as I know and what I don't know I am sure somebody in town will."

  "A talking wolf named John? I thought when I woke up that I was having a r
eally bad dream." I rubbed my stomach. The pain was radiating into my limbs and the walking was becoming more difficult.

  Thankfully, Veronica eased her stride as she noticed me struggling to maintain her brisk walk. "The wolves were originally created by the United States government for the same reason we were and some were a success and others were a colossal failure. There are many different varieties of interesting creatures you will have to learn to learn to live with if you are to survive life on the Farm. The GW3s are the first of their kind to know how to speak. I bet you are hungry, huh?"

  "Starving. I cannot imagine being hungrier than I am now."

  I laughed lightly, "John is a weird name for a wolf."

  "All the creatures that live here originally start as Avas or Johns. The wolves kept the name John to maintain the integrity of the pack concept. Those guys can be fanatics though most are alright guys. We are stuck identifying them strictly by noticing the variations in the fur, size or even scars. Many of the other creatures we share our home with find their own way to be individuals. Many are creative; some are atrocious."

  She shuttered as she continued speaking. "The Vs after the initial generations were the first to start adopting names in order to be distinctive."

  Must be awful to shake vampire I thought. The pains from my hunger were still distracting, but were subsiding and the clarity of my thoughts was improving. I hoped to direct the conversation away from the evils she knew and toward finding out if she knew who I was. "Did you pick your own? I don't know what my name is, and I was wondering how I needed to pro..."

  Veronica paused, throwing her hand up to silence me as we stopped walking.

  I knew she was listening for something. She lifted her chin putting her nose to the wind directing me to do the same. She was teaching me so I did as I was instructed. There was a new smell that was overly sweet wafting in our direction. The odor was similar to fresh squeezed limes. The source was close to us, somewhere to my right about fifty yards away. Looking in that direction I saw nothing of significance. My nose was telling me different.