Chapter 3 The Night
848 Words
If you could ever get a second chance, what’s the one thing that you would definitely change?
A lot of people would ask themselves that question upon their deaths. So did Wendy.
Actually, she asked herself a lot of times even before her parents were dead, and she was “adopted” by this mysterious werewolf family.
Teenage time could be tough, especially when you were not popular by any means. Wendy was sort of lucky, because she wouldn’t stand bully.
On her first day in high school as a transfer student, some local girls blocked her in the bathroom and tried to teach her a lesson.
Wendy grabbed the hair of the leader girl and stuffed her head into the toilet regardless of the punches, scratches, and screams that landed on her back, arms, and face.
She was suspended for a month. Nobody wanted to be friends with her. Neither did she need any. Because being a teenager is being lonely. You could never find the balance between the pain and being happy.
If you asked her that question before she met the werewolf family, the answer would always be I wish I was never born.
And now, when her life was in danger and her wish would finally come true, she simply wished she was never such a fool.
Why? She asked herself again.
Why do you have to crave for love?
When you know living in the world simply means being hurt and being lonely?
Someone, or something was getting close.
Wendy saw a cluster of black shadows quietly approach where she was lying. It didn’t have a fixed shape, just the aggregation of some sort of black, like smoke.
She actually felt relaxed seeing that. At least, he didn’t look like a ferocious monster, or some sort of bloodthirsty beast.
She watched it getting close, inch by inch, and then stopped at her bedside.
The room was really dark. She wasn’t supposed to see anything, but she saw him, very clearly.
She saw that cluster of black smoke float in the middle of the air beside her bed, staring at her. Tears filled her wet brown eyes and fell from the corners of her eyes.
She still couldn’t move, and she heard him ask her, word by word, letter by letter:
“D-o Y-o-u L-o-v-e M-e?”
It was a scrannel voice, like a malfunctioning, rusty artificial machine.
Wendy got goosebumps because of that voice. She wanted to answer “No”, because she didn’t want to lie. But she knew she couldn’t answer that. That was probably why the previous 14 brides died.
She couldn’t answer “Yes” either, because she didn’t love him. He would know the difference. They always do. Some of those dead brides must have tried.
Then what was the answer?
What could keep her alive?
Why did she want to continue living anyway?
You know you will get nothing but wounds by living in the world, lonely, and with pride.
“I could try,” she said after a while. “If you give me some time to let me know you, I will actually fall in love with you.”
It was a lie, or probably not. She was too scared, too hurt to know the difference.
She stared at the black shadow and waited for his answer. The shadow stared at her back.
After a while, he lifted the silk quilt above her and mounted her n/aked body.
Wendy shivered. She got more tears, but she stared at him with a smile around her mouth corner.
She didn’t want to escape. She didn’t want to die. Certainly not after being tricked, deceived, and sacrificed as a substitute.
The black shadow stared at her for a while, and then, he leaned forward, lowered his body to kiss her.
He didn’t kiss her lips, but her forehead, her cheeks, and her hair.
It was actually fine.
He looked like smoke. He felt like smoke too. A bit of cold compared with an actual human body, but soft, a bit itchy.
Wendy felt he traced his tongue, if it could be referred to as tongue, to her neck, her breasts, her abdomen, and her lower body.
She couldn’t help but cry. It felt so itchy.
The black shadow lifted his head. He looked at Wendy and said, “You don’t like me.”
“No,” Wendy denied. She got so many tears in her eyes, but she didn’t want to die. “It’s just my first time.” She insisted.
The blackness silenced. He looked hesitant. Wendy didn’t want him to. Or perhaps she actually wanted to die.
She lifted her arm, and held his hand, if he had a hand.
“Come on,” she said. “Take me as your bride. I want to be with you.”
The black shadow looked at her and silenced for another while.
All of a sudden, he got off the bed, and exited the room, leaving her lying there lonely on the bed like a pale corpse.
- Writer
