Survival [E.D] (Completed)

Chapt. 2: The Mills

"We're not going to hurt you, I promise." The woman spoke as she gathered the blankets from the floor.
"I found you beside the dumpster, next to my restaurant. You looked fragile and weak. My apologies for taking you without permission. I didn't want to wake your slumber." The man stuttered.
It took a while for me to speak. I have never encountered a couple who weren't disgusted by me let alone wanting to help me get better.

"You're not terrified of me?" Out of all the things I could ask them, and these are the first words I blurt out. Typical.

"Not at all. Why would we be scared of you dear?" The woman held out her hand for reassurance.

I cautiously take it, my weak, cold hands met with hers, although her hands were warm and welcoming. She slowly guided me back onto the couch, her hands wrapped mine to create more warmth. However, not only I could feel warmth but a spark.
It's hard to believe that the spark was somewhat 'magical'.

A fantasy word.

A word to describe something 'mythical' or 'unrealistic'.

I thought that once. I thought that only humans and werewolves existed.

How I was very wrong.

"You're a witch!" My loud mouth once again blurted out.
Seconds after, I covered my mouth before saying sorry about one million times.

Silence engulfed the room until the woman spoke.

"You're right. There's no denying it youngster." Her smiled changed into small laughter followed by her husband.
"I don't understand. Why a couple of witches want to help me?"

"I could ask you a similar question. Why you won't attack us, wolf." I scoffed after her comment as she left the room.

"I'm in no position to attack anyone right now. All I need is my wounds stitched and I'll be on my way." I forced myself up and in a second I collapsed back onto the couch.

"You're not helping yourself by pushing yourself. You need rest. Plenty of it."
The man approached me with a faint smile and slowly rolled up my pants which revealed a deep, infected cut. It began above my ankle and crawled all the way up the back of my knee.

"Why aren't you healing my dear?" The man reached over to grab a bandage and other treatments that lay on the coffee table.

I shrugged. I had never had a problem with healing myself before. You would think I knew everything about being a wolf considering I was born to into a pack, however, we didn't have to fight our entire lives because we were protected.

I was deep in thought trying to figure out why I wasn't healing when suddenly the woman walked through, carrying a tray. It wasn't until she got closer that I saw three small pots carrying specific herbs in that had labels of,
'Rosemary', 'Chamomile' and 'Aloe Vera'.
Followed by a tube-like spoon and a bowl with, what seemed to be like, boiling water.

"You're not healing because you're too sick." You need a little rest and a push for your healing to begin." She handed the items to her husband who stirred up a special 'concoction' as he added the ingredients into the boiling water. The woman then hovered her hand over the bowl and spoke a couple of words in a chanting tone.

"What do you mean, a 'little push'?" I questioned while the man gently took a scoop of the clay, green 'concoction' and placed it onto my wounds. I shrieked out in pain. The entire neighbourhood could've heard me. I threw my head back and squeezed my eyes shut, not letting tears shred from my tear ducts. They had been dried up for centuries and a little pain won't make them well-up.

"Drink this," The woman forced my lips onto a cup. I didn't have time to resist as I was too weak; the drink was warm, a spicy warm. That's all I could describe it as their was no other taste to it. The liquid I swallowed was clear with no smell. However, that didn't mean it tasted good. The spice made it slightly tolerable as I was forced to drink it all in one go.

Minutes after I began feeling drowsy and felt myself falling into a deep sleep; I couldn't fight it, I slowly became lost in it.

It seemed to be forever I had been sleeping when I woke up. It was probably the best sleep I had in years. Mainly because I slept on piled up branches or leaves that had ants crawling all over them, not to mention the snails that munched eerily on them, to the point where I went crazy. You wouldn't believe small insects like snails had a big, loud appetite. When opening my eyes, I discovered the same woman sat in a chair, nearest to the fireplace. She was writing notes as I could see her bullet-pointing as she wrote.

"What are you writing?" My mind speaks for itself most of the time, especially without thinking. "How's your wounds?" She returned, avoiding the question. I suddenly recalled the events that had happened before I fell asleep, or should I say, drugged. I shuck off my trailing thoughts and rolled down the bandages that hid my wounds.

Nothing.

My healing must have kick started as the man put that remedy onto them. I was thrilled to see them gone, as well as feeling a little better.
"Thank you... so much. But I best be on my way." I rolled up the bandages and stood up, ready to leave, although I caught the woman raising her perfectly-arched brow but didn't look up.

"And where do you think you're going?" She questioned.
"Look lady... I appreciate that you're looking out for me but I don't need looking out for, it's best if I leave so I can't cause you trouble. I don't want to be a burden on your shoulders."
I took a long sigh and aimed my eye contact at the woman, ready for a response.
"The wolf grows a backbone as soon as she's not vulnerable anymore."
"Excuse me?" I growled under my breath.

"You wolves are all the same. When you're vulnerable you'll take the help provided, but when you aren't. You get agitated and say you don't need help. I'm offering my help to you wolf, so take it while I feel nice." Her eyes made contact with mine.

She was obviously no stranger to wolves in her past. However, the more she talked like this, left me intrigued or somewhat infatuated by witches and werewolves crossing paths. I had never crossed paths with a witch before. Although, this woman was offering her help to me so it would be reckless of me not too take it.

I plonked myself back onto the couch. "You win. But no more of this name stuff."
"I suppose I'll drop it. However, my name is not lady. It's Mary Mills. My husbands name is Alexander Mills, and for the record, he's not a witch. He's human." I could see her lips turning into a small smile as she stayed in eye contact with me.

"Mia West." I smiled.