The Anthem of the Castaway

Hidden Cameras

It's been weeks since Wolfs visit. Since then I haven't coughed up as much blood, but that issue is still there. I've been helping the old man hunt small game so that he can make soups with the meat and a big blanket out of the furs. I've also helped him keep up the maintenance of his cabin, which he is always so grateful. I think by now I've drank more tea in the last month than I have in my entire 2,000 year life.
I'm pulled from my thoughts when I hear pounding on the door. Since I'm already in wolf form, Charlie grabs the blanket that the officer gave us and he puts it over my shoulders and back and fastens it around my neck and belly. He quickly opens the door afterward, greeting the guest.
Feeling uneasy, I slink toward the door, ready to protect the old man. I hear the old man invite the guests in and they walk over to the couch and have a seat while the old man makes them some tea, leaving me to stand guard. Something about these men seems off, and I kind of recognize them but I'm not sure why. Being on edge, all it takes is one man reaching forward to fix his shoe to spook me. I let out a growl and look at the man, who doesn't seem to care.
The old man gets back with the tea and sets it down on the table. I watch the men carefully, very much on edge. "Come sit with me." The old man says, making eye contact with me. I warily oblige and sit on the corner of the couch between him and the two strange men.
"Care to introduce yourselves?" The old man starts.
"I'm Paul Stansberry, my buddy here is Marcus White. We're from the research institute that's in the Montana prison." The man on the left says. I growl softly, letting the old man know that I'm not comfortable with them. He pats me on the head and let's them continue.
"We are here because the officer leading the investigation for that missing girl found some of her DNA here in your cabin."
"What's that supposed to mean?" The old man says smartly.
"We just want to take a more thorough look at your house and ask you more questions." The old man nods, which causes both the men to stand up.
Marcus approaches us and motions for the old man to follow him. Not wanting to get up, I watch them step out of the front door and I lay on the couch.
The other man starts looking at the couch he was sitting on, turning up each of the cushions. He approaches me, but decides to skip the couch I lay on and he moves on to looking around the rest of the house. While he searches I doze off, my head resting on my paws.

"Move Dog." I wake up to. I growl at the man standing above me, not wanting to move. "Go." He says more sternly, pointing to the other couch. I growl in response, not even bothering to lift my head. The man rolls his eyes and steps outside for a moment, then comes back with the old man.
"He needs to look in this couch." The old man says matter of factly to me. "Come with me."
I can't help but to oblige, so I stand up and step off the couch. As the old man starts for the door, I follow.
As we walk I feel blood foaming at my lips, the unignorable drowning sensation having not left since I was shot. I turn back to look at that man and bare my teeth, giving him a warning not to ever mess with me. He looks me in the eyes and responds with one word. "Satan."

After a long day of following the old man around until the other men leave, I'm so exhausted that I collapse on the floor rather than climbing up to the couch. In a swift moment I'm asleep, my sleep filled with terror.

I awake to soft sunlight coming through the window, a key indicator that it's morning. Seeing that the old man isn't in the room, I stand up and shift into my angel form. I walk into the kitchen and turn on a pot for tea, figuring I'd get a head start on the old man. Not before long, he walks through the door as the water boils.
"You look chipper." He says, watching me pour the tea.
"Sure." I agree with him.
We head back to the living room, but I stop at the threshold between the living room and the kitchen, stunned into silence of what sits before me.
"Welcome. I knew you'd be here." He taunts, a cruel smile on his face.
"Fuck off." I mutter, using ever bit of self control I have to not attack him. The old man stands behind me silently, audibly panicked into breathing hard.
"And you, sir." He says, gesturing to the old man. "Well you're in loads of trouble for harboring a fugitive."
I growl at him, my wolf side coming through, causing my teeth to have slight fangs.
"But, I will give you a deal." He continues, standing up. "If you come without a fight he gets to stay here. No consequences for him. You run again and he gets life in prison."
"I'll go." I say simply. Hoping that he really means what he said. He walks up to me and clamps a cuff onto one writs, yanks it behind me, then repeats with the next. It's funny how he thinks just the cuffs will hold me.
Just as I'm in my own moment of laughing at him, I feel a sharp stab in the side of my neck and a needle go through the small holes in my armor before coming to a stop in my neck. Within moments I'm feeling dizzy, and the man has to help me to his car before I pass out across the seat.