THE UNDYING | TWILIGHT

32. Obituary

"Just look at them out there," said Michele Distefano as he glared through his office window, a lit cigarette held loosely between his fingers. "Like flies swarming around a pile of shit."

That morning, the streets of Volterra were crawling with reporters and journalists from all over the country. In their vans they came, with their cameramen and little microphones, asking questions and shoving their noses where they didn't belong. Relentless they were, absolutely relentless. They knocked on people's doors, chased them down the street, and even followed them into the restroom. And all to get that big scoop that would set their article apart from all the others.

Volterra's Full Moon Fever
Wolves Escape Local Zoo and Attack Hillside City
Werewolves Spotted in Volterra!

Several locals came forward, of course. One man claimed to have seen a strange beast from his bedroom window:

"I was woken in the middle of the night by a strange noise. A weird thumping kind of noise—like footsteps, only louder. And then I heard a howl, real clear and deep. Chilled me right to the bone, it did. When I shook my wife awake and told her what I'd heard, she said I was just imagining things. I told her to listen. If she listened, she would hear it too. But then the sounds stopped, just like that. So I got out of bed and pulled open the blinds. As long as I live, I'll never forget what I saw that night. A monster with black fur and yellow eyes was standing out on the balcony!"

Unfortunately, his story was not unique. Many complained of hearing unexplainable noises and seeing strange shapes in the night. One woman had tried to sell a picture she'd taken of the beasts, but the image was too dark and grainy to be accepted. Other photos emerged as well, but most of them turned out to be doctored. Of course, that didn't stop them from being published and spread all over the internet.

Casualties were few, and for that Mayor Distefano thanked his lucky stars. The Gutter had suffered the most, as many chose to ignore the mayor's curfew. Among the deceased were three prostitutes, two drug dealers, and a handful of squatters. Nobody knew their names, of course. Nobody would ever come forward to identify the bodies. They would die like wild animals: without names, without loved ones to mourn them, thrown into the incinerator until they were nothing but ash. In life and in death, their lives were utterly meaningless.

When asked to comment on the deaths, Mayor Distefano labeled it a "great tragedy." Behind closed doors, however, he considered it a blessing.

"A blessing, indeed," murmured the mayor as he returned to his desk. He'd just taken his first sip of coffee when Olivia entered his office without knocking. She held a thick black binder against her hip.

"A press conference has been scheduled for one," she said, and then she reached into the binder and pulled out a small stack of papers which she placed on his desk. "You will say that rabid wolves attacked the city last night. Your claim will be supported by all law enforcement and medical personnel who were on duty that night. They've already provided their sworn statements, which we will release to the press over the next few days. Keep your answers clear and concise. Don't go too far off script. Your tone should be sympathetic but optimistic. You offer your deepest condolences to the families of the deceased. You offer your prayers to those recovering in the hospital. Finally, you offer words of encouragement. Speak of how this tragedy has brought the citizens closer together. Shake some hands, take some pictures, and you're done."

Michele smiled as he glossed over the speech his staff had prepared. "My goodness, Olivia, you've really outdone yourself this time. I almost believe it myself."

"Well, that was the point, wasn't it?"

"Yes, thank you."

Clutching the binder against her chest, Olivia turned to leave, but she ended up stopping just short of the door.