Ch. 4 - We Didn't Start the Fire

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"No, we're not dead; don't be stupid," Lana spat

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"No, we're not dead; don't be stupid," Lana spat.

"Hey, don't call me stupid. I'm freaking out here!" Raya countered.

"Shit! Sorry, I just- it's not a good morning, in case you haven't noticed."

"No shit," Raya agreed. "Oh, God! Did we really see what I think we saw last night?"

Lana nodded gravely.

"Do we go to the cops?" Lana asked.

"And tell them what? A giant wolf-man bit us-" Raya gasped, having just caught on. "He bit us, Lana! That fucker bit us!"

"Yeah, derp. We've got the gnarly wounds to prove it- oh. Oh, hell!" Lana caught it as well -- the one thing that happens when someone gets bitten by a werewolf...

"We're werewolves, Raya!" she screeched with wide, frightful eyes.

"M-maybe we're not? I mean..." Raya wrung her hands searching for an alternative, but she could already feel the change inside her. It was powerful and kind of exciting, but scary at the same time.

Lana was not excited -- not in the least. She was devastated and frankly PO'ed to the brim. She worked hard and paid taxes; she obeyed the law and went to church on Easter Sunday; she volunteered at the homeless shelter kitchen; she was faithful to one asshole guy for two whole years, damnit! She was a good person. How could this happen to her?!

Raya's upbeat Party All the Time ringtone cut through the mood like an inappropriate blade. Raya snatched it from the dashboard with frustration, glaring at the caller ID. It read: "ALPHA" in all capitals.

"What the fucking fuck?" She puzzled before answering with a timid, "Hello?"

"Ahh, you're awake. I thought I felt you stiring," a voice crooned. It was unmistakeable; the voice was Bruce's.

"What the hell do you want, asshole?" she shrieked into the phone.

There was a hearty chuckle on the other end of the line. "Just what I deserve. You owe me fealty, pup. You and your friend."

"She's my sister, prick, and we don't owe you shit!"

"Who is that, Raya?" Lana demanded.

"It's him," she explained, "It's Bruce."

Lana tried wrestling the phone from her sister. There was a short, girly scuffle, but Lana looked so furious that Raya finally gave it up willingly.

"Fuck you to hell, you bastard!" she yelled, straining her voice. She didn't even care about the sting in her throat.

Another booming laugh resonated through the phone. "So feisty. Where does all of this anger come from?"

"Eat shit," she snapped, and to her surprise, a deep, vicious growl escaped her. Lana's hand shot up to her mouth as if she could cover it up the way one covers up an untimely burp, but she hardly thought saying, "excuse me," to one you're arguing with was entirely appropriate.

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