Bitten

Myra’s POV…

There was a beast in my yard.

I hoped it was my imagination as I peered at the large wolf. I hoped it was just my madness playing tricks on my mind, but no matter how hard I stared, it didn’t disappear.

Every step I took felt heavy, as if every vein in my body was pumping blood to my pounding heart; I bit back the scream rising in my throat and launched into a run.

I pushed aside my growing horror and didn’t wait to see the beast’s next move, racing back to my home with heavy steps. I reached for the door and then quickly jammed it shut, a shaky breath leaving me as I pulled myself away from the now-closed door.

But who am I kidding? If that beast had it out against me, my flimsy decade-old door wouldn’t do as much to hold him back.

But I still clicked it shut. I quickly pushed my curtains closed, ensuring the room was dark enough to see if someone was inside, and then I checked again, and it was still in the yard’s shed.

Perhaps I was going crazy, or my dad’s madness was rubbing off on me, as he was known for being a mad scientist on the verge of a breakdown. It was a bit cruel to remember him that way, but it was true.

One of the reasons he lost his job was that, despite his mental health issues, Mom still stayed with him. I know it was a bit crazy to bring up the madness, but I had to confirm that the feeling and what I saw were real.

As I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, I paced back and forth in my small foyer, my heart racing in my chest. It was alive and moving, and I felt compelled to call animal services, but I hesitated, fearing they might euthanize it, and I couldn’t bring myself to do that.

“Myra, don’t be stupid; that thing is at least 6 feet!” I warned myself. I did a double-take, looking back at the door and out the window to the backyard again, and it was still there! Damn it.

I muttered to myself as I walked to the storage closet, grabbed my father’s old hunting bag, and retrieved what was now used to store part of my vet tool kits, which I normally used to help injured rabbits and birds that fell into my yard, but this was a wolf!

But never in my 22 years of living would I have expected to find wolves like this in a backwater town like this? I swear to God, if I’m eaten on my birthday...

‘Just take a deep breath,’ I tell myself, trying to calm down as I grasp the knob with trembling hands and step back out into the open yard. It was 2 am, with no neighbors awake, and all I had to defend myself were my wits and a bat.

I walk to the shed, I was surprised to see that the wolf was unconscious and had bled out. That meant I needed to work fast. It was his back hind legs that bled; maybe a fight among the pack? It had to be some wild fight because I’d never seen anything so grim and gnarly.

The musky scent of dense fur mixed with blood created a brutal scene, but I was used to it and immediately got to work.

“Hey, big boy…” I whisper, “I won’t hurt you, I promise,” but, damn, I don’t have any tranquilizers. I just prayed he wouldn’t wake up and bite my head off. I acted quickly, stitching and patching up its hind legs before I bandaged it, making sure the work was clean and fast.

I felt a rumble from the wolf’s chest, and I backed away immediately. Okay, crap, I wasn’t dead yet. I was relieved; I smiled in disbelief that spread even as my hands still trembled.

As I watched, the wolf instinctively curled up into a cocoon, still towering like a small hill, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I backed away from the weakened creature, racing back into the house and slamming the door shut.

I must have been crazy in my past life to have tackled that wild wolf with no experience, but I had expected to be scared; instead, I was feeling an adrenaline rush, and a smile spread across my face. I rushed towards my fridge.

I didn’t have any raw meat, but I had leftovers from the whole chicken roast I ordered last night, which was missing only one wing. Do wolves like cooked food? I’m unsure, but I’m willing to try.

I warm up the food as if it were a chilly night, then transfer it to a plate before serving. I was careful on my toes, placing it gently before I raced back in. And now I felt the fatigue finally kicking in as I pushed myself into my room, took off my shirt and pants, and headed into the shower.

As I filled the bath, I needed a warm soak to wash my body and relax. Since tomorrow was a Sunday and we were closed, I relaxed a bit more, and before I knew it, I had fallen asleep, still partly thinking of a wild beast I just helped as my lids weighed down .

In my dreams, I’m back in the backseat of my father’s old sedan, playing with coloring books as my parents argue. “Marcel…it’s them…” As I saw fear in my father’s face, yet bravery as he whirled the car around, my mom’s voice echoed with urgency, but it was clear there was another obstacle blocking the road.

“What do we do...” she trembled.

“Daddy… “I’m scared,” my small voice echoed. I could only watch, feeling like I had a front-row seat to my nightmare, as my father charged up the car with a look of resolve mixed with terror in his gaze and pushed on the steering wheel.

Suddenly, the glass shattered, and my mom’s screams pierced through the car as I jumped out of the lukewarm tub. I was holding on to my chest and my loud beating heart. I was back to reality.

“Not this dream again…” I whispered, taking in sharp breaths to ease my cold veins. I hadn’t had a normal birthday without the painful memory of my parents’ death,

but when I heard a distant howl, it made me freeze, though it didn’t sound close.

Was it the wolf’s companion or his enemies? What if they were coming to finish the job? I rushed to my drawers and took out a silk nightwear set, a spaghetti strap top, and a shirt with a worn-out back. With my comfy shoes on, I take out my trusty bat and head outside again.

This time the plate was upturned and mostly eaten, but no wolf was in sight. As the air stilled, I felt a chill run through my body, and goosebumps rose on my back as I sensed movement and a heated snout behind me.

I closed my eyes and swung the moment I saw the fiery eyes: one was a crimson red, another a sickly white-grey, like a pool of lava, and the other a misty hue.

I was stunned by the enormous canine teeth as I tried to aim for its mouth, but I was too slow, bewildered by the incredible speed of this massive beast.

The beast lunged at me, grabbed the bat as I try to fight for my weapon but couldn’t as I helplessly watched it being flung away. And now the wolf was on me. I could see the madness in its eyes as I tried to kick.

The wolf’s abnormal rage, driven by bloodlust, targeted me, and I shielded my face with my hands as it thrashed as each primal growl caused my heart to pound ten times faster.

I screamed as I felt the intense pierce of its canine on my arm, just before it released me. I gazed at the wolf’s sickly mist orb, which had faded into its crimson eyes that seemed almost conscious now.

It was as if something had snapped in the beasts, awakening consciousness, but as I cried out ‘wolf,’ my hands burned as if pierced by a thousand flames, and the beast fled.

But I couldn’t care less, not with the searing pain in my hands. I’d never experienced such searing pain, as if it was consuming me from the inside out and pushing into my flesh, and I clutched my hand to my body, realizing what the wolf had done.

I’d just been bitten by a wild wolf beast.