The Boy Next Door

Chapter Eight

The Boy Next Door-

 

 

So sorry it took sooo long to get this posted, but it took me so long to get this chapter figured out on top of moving and everything else. I hope that you all will forgive me.

 

Also I’d just like to warn you guys now, I tend to lean more towards drama in my stories and that’s why this chapter is as long as it is; I just couldn’t find a good place, in my mind, to stop the flow.

 

If you find it confusing I apologize, I tried to explain what needed to be explained without giving anything else away, but after awhile of staring at the computer screen I just kinda wanted to get the chapter over and done with.

 

 

 

 

 

Eight:

The scream reverberated off the bloodstained walls, playing repeatedly through her mind like a broken record. The stench of death, of the rotting flesh she tried hard not to think about so close to her feet, had bile rising in her throat when there was nothing left in her stomach. It was already all over the clothes she had been forced into, the cold concrete floor beneath her bottom.

She curled herself into as small a ball as possible, clinging to the last shred of her sanity as the scene played out before her eyes. What she was seeing could not possibly be real. The human body was capable of many things, she knew, but the shifting; the cracking of the bones beneath his skin had to have been a result of whatever they'd laced her drink with.  A hallucination that felt too damn real.

Pitch black, soulless eyes latched onto her as the too thin, sickly pale form fell to his knees, an inhuman howl echoing throughout the abandoned building. The movement of his bones beneath his skin had her gagging, watching in rapt horror as hair sprouted all across his naked body.

Claws tore through his nail beds, screeching loudly across the concrete floor his body convulsed on. His bones contorted as his body writhed, limbs pulling spasmodically against the chains that held him against the wall across the room.

He twisted, arms unhinging from their sockets as he fell forward, bones snapping as they reformed. Brown fur, the color of the hair atop his head, grew in mere seconds along his forearms, paws flailing wildly against the chains that had, only moments before, encased his wrists as the rest of his body contorted and convulsed.

His face elongated, canines drawing blood from where they pierced his lip when they grew into wolf like fangs. A low, chest constricting whine slipped free of the muzzle that suddenly dominated his features, lips drawing back from his teeth when his jaws snapped together.

Laughter bounced off the walls around her when the animal lunged towards her only to snarl when the chains restricting his movements prevented him from reaching her. Samara shook, wrapping her arms around her knees when the black, black eyes of the wolf latched onto her gaze.