Double Edge // ONC 2024 Novella

Chapter Thirteen

For days after returning home, I cooped myself up in the apartment. I paced. I sketched. I did everything I could think of to take my mind away from the athame lying on my coffee table.

There has to be another way.

I didn't want to hurt anyone, but the next full moon loomed ever closer. With no alternative, I'd have to do it if I ever wanted to be normal again.

Isn't that selfish? What if this wolf was like Emma? How is that fair?

I sunk into the fabric of my sofa, rubbing my temples.

What if the wolf is long gone?

I picked at the skin around my index finger. A tiny hangnail pestered and stung. I tugged at it, trying to snap it off. Instead, it came away in a spiraling strip. I looked on in horror as flesh peeled off my finger with ease. It only stopped when it reached the first knuckle, leaving a red ribbon path in its wake. After a moment, the skin healed again as if nothing had ever happened.

A scream wedged itself under my ribs. It threatened to overcome me.

Breathe. Just breathe. Stress will only make it worse.

I couldn't relax. The harder I tried, the more agitated I became.

Instead, I decided to go for a walk to clear my head. Perhaps some fresh air could distract me. So I put my sunglasses on and headed outside. I had no idea where I was going. So I wandered. Still, the lost lamb flashed before my eyes. I couldn't see anything else. Dr. Lyon's story had kicked my imagination into overdrive. Though I hadn't seen the events with my own eyes, it was like it played like a movie in my mind anyway.

For the first time since the attack, I found myself back in the park. In the broad light of day, people walked the stone pathways none the wiser. Pigeons played in the fountain under the gazebo once again.

How did I find myself here?

I stopped so abruptly the woman behind me stumbled, cursing at me as she had to go around. I stepped to the side onto the grass. Through the amalgamation of scents, one in particular caught my attention. It was like cedar, spice and sweat. I'd never smelled anything quite like it, yet it was oddly familiar somehow.

I inhaled through my nose, looking around to see if I could catch where it was coming from. I followed the trail, weaving around the meandering people and scattering pigeons. I'm sure others must have thought I was insane, but I was too absorbed in the hunt to notice.

Soon, I found myself at the end of the park. The cemetery across the street came into view. Early evening fog encased the base of the trees and tombstones. Moss swallowed crumbling statues of angels and saints. Ivy was in the process of dragging them to the earth.

Traffic slowed and I darted across the street. An iron fence surrounded the cemetery. The archway opened to the winding cobblestone path. Here, the scent was at its strongest, beckoning me forward.

What will I do if I find them? I don't even have the knife. I don't have to do this. I can still go home. 

I swallowed and stepped inside. The smell only became more potent as I walked. Another, almost similar scent lingered around beneath this one, but it was much fainter. A person came into view up ahead. A woman. She seemed to hear me, as she tilted her head to look. I ducked behind a moldy statue and crouched low to the ground. The movement knocked my sunglasses askew. My heart pounded in my throat. I straightened my glasses then peeked around the side of the base.

The woman lingered around, walking slowly. She tilted her face upward, inhaling. Sniffing the air just like I had been a moment earlier. She walked around, circling through the tombstones. When she turned again, I caught a glimpse of her PY 35 Cadmium yellow eyes.