The Downworlders : WEREWOLVES (English)

PART I

The rain had stopped but the smell of fresh wet trees mixed with the smell of autumn wind burst through the open window of the room. From the direction of the wooden door that was  wide opened, the smell that had never smelled for 5 years lately also managed to tickle the nose. The smell of a grandmother's chocolate cookie.

She was in this room again. The room she used to live in when she visited. But from now on, this room was her because she would stay here. A few miles from a small town called Aberfeldy, in the Scottish highlands. Grandma's place. Her parents had to work in that town.

From the outside, this house was like a victorian-style little castle. The walls were made of gray beige brick with a black roof faded like the rest of the house. Rows of trees as high as one and a half floors, neatly arranged to create a horizontal row like a large fence in the backyard. Behind the trees, there was a tree house with a short grassland that ended in a row of hills. She could not wait to cross the hills and run to see what was behind it. She continued to stare at the view from her bedroom window, developing an ever wider smile, imagining what she would find on the other end. Like a little girl.

Turning away from her desire to venture out, there were plenty of boxes she had to unload that lay on top of the floor in this room. She took a deep breath as she looked at the mirror on the brick wall in front of her. The image of a girl with wavy hair -along the chest- because she braided it before and reddish black colored from the sun, large dark brown eyes on the right eye and light brown on the left eye with long lashes, a small-medium volume in bow shaped lips with Pomegranate color and square face with chubby cheeks.

"It's nothing compared to outside scenes," she muttered.

Her eyes came down to her in the mirror. Small chest, broad shoulders, arms with little muscle, wide hips, and sunburned skin.

"Cassie!"

An old woman's affectionate voice turned her judgment to herself. "Yes, Grandma?"

"Come down, help me bake!"

"Okay."

She braided back her long hair and then hurried down the stairs. Her step stopped on the last step because an Italian-faced man that little older than her, with athletic body and very tall, with long wavy black hair almost touching his shoulder, with brown eyes that seem sharp because of his temple bones but shady because his long eyelashes, thick eyebrows, stiff jaws and split chin. His wet cream T-shirt stuck to his body like skin, showing his perfect abs.

"Caleb, do not try to step in. You'll wet the carpet." Grandma's voice was still heard and the man named Caleb obeyed. Like a puppy.

"Cassie, get your uncle a dry towel."

"Uncle?" Her forehead frowned, down the last step, looking at the untidy man at a glance as she walked past him to her grandmother who was still baking another cake. "Grandma, are you serious?" Her voice half whispered.

"Yes, he's your uncle, remind me to tell you tonight. Now, do your job."

She grabbed a dry white towel from the bathroom and handed it to Caleb who was still waiting a little annoyed. Without waiting for the man to dry himself, she approached her grandmother. Helped her bake, as she often did before.

*

The sound of leaf that rubbed, sounded soft in her ear. It was very difficult to wake up in this tranquil atmosphere, but her habit of getting up in the morning did not want to budge. Cassie lazily opened her eyes. Gazed at the ceiling for a moment until her consciousness really returned before then left the bed. There was no one in this house after she checked every rooms. The last stop was the kitchen, time to fill the stomach. The first schedule this morning was crossing the hill behind the house.