Category : Stories

Sub Category : Fantasy

The dark sky hovered over me. The thick, humid air suffocated me. But all I felt was cold. Not a cool night chilly, or a winter cold. A dead cold. I couldn't move my fingers. I couldn't move anything. There was nothing but a layer of leaves covering me. My jeans were torn, my shirt in pieces. My face was wet with blood. My hair stuck to me, making me uncomfortable. I tied to process what had happened. Faintly, like a whisper, I heard someone call out my name. "Over here!" I tried to say, but I couldn't get the words out. So I started screaming. That did the trick. As they found me they looked at me as of I was dead. I passed out as the ruched my head.
I woke up in a hospital. Only, my room was crowded with people. I felt something cold in my veins, morphine. I took a sharp breath. As the people helped me around, I looked into a mirror. All my wounds had healed, except a bite mark on my neck. As I touched it a doctor said, "That's from the wolf that stacked you. It's the only thing that won't heal."
They released me after a few weeks. I was glad to be in my house again, and my memory was coming back. The wolf bite on my neck still didn't heal. But as my memories came back, I started to doubt it was a wolf bite. Or that there was a wolf at all.
All I remembered of my attacker was a friendly face and evil accessories. My door opened, and a man walked in. "Hey babe, see your home." He was the friendly face. And he lived with me. I must be going crazy, it was a wolf. I'm just making things up. Or am I?