The wind was howling outside of the old chimney
walls that Henrik had hid himself in. the snow surrounding the old chimney was
at least a foot and provide a block from the wind. Even then, the shaking that
Henrik was doing had nothing to do with the chill in the air or the snow on the
ground. The blood on his hands had sealed his fate and he was powerless to do
anything to change it. Twilight had
begun to fall and Henrik knew that he could not stay outside. He removed himself and began to trek back to
his mother’s home. He heard people
shouting and immediately felt bad for worrying his mother and siblings. As he
came more into view of the house he saw his two oldest siblings, Archer and Quinn
walking towards the woods with flashlights.
Archer’s strange amber colored eyes seemed to glow in the now halfway
dark evening. The Irish twins, as their
mother called them, stood like statues in the snow, waiting for him to meet
them. He lowered his head in shame as he came to a halt in front of them.
“Do
you have any idea how concerned our mother is… she was in hysterics before
Quinn and-”
“Archer,
look at his hands…” Quinn said quietly to the older male. Archer looked to
Quinn incredulously before looking at Henrik’s cold bloody hands. Archer’s eyebrows shot up into his hair line
and he shared a knowing look with Quinn.
“Come
on, Hen.” Quinn said wrapping an arm around her youngest brother’s shoulder. He’d tried not to cry but once Quinn wrapped
her arm around his shoulders the tears started to fall. Archer ruffled his hair
as they walked to the enclosed back porch of the house. Their mother raced towards them, she
hurriedly checked Henrik over before hugging him tightly.
“Mother,
he’s spilt human blood. His first full moon is tonight.” Archer told his mother
trying not to make her anymore distraught. Maria gave her oldest son a glare
before looking to Britton and Quinn who were whispering to each other.
“Quinn,
Britton, what is it?” Maria knew something was by Britton’s body language and
Quinn’s blank facial expression. Britton looked to his older sister and she
rolled her eyes before looking to their mother.
“We’re
just concerned. If Henrik did in fact get the gene then why wasn’t he born with
the same colored eyes as archer, Britton and me. We all three have amber eyes
but Henrik doesn’t. He has eyes like you and Anwen.”
“Is
it a proven fact that if you’re born with the curse, you have brown eyes like
father’s?” Anwen asked her older sister.
“Not
scientifically proven no. but father was a werewolf and had the amber eyes, as
does every werewolf in father’s family.” Quinn answered looking outside. She
glanced at Archer and he nodded.
“Dress
light tonight Henrik, we’ll see if you have the gene.” Britton said as he and
Archer left to prepare.
Henrik
stood in the snow later that night. The wind was unpleasant, as his only block
from the wind was a pair of cargo shorts and a thin long sleeved shirt. Anwen
watched him with concerned eyes. Henrik had heard the plan that his siblings
had created. Anwen would drive the jeep into the woods and stay in the trailer
by the river. Britton would take wolf form and be a guide for Henrik (if the
transition was a success). Quinn noticed
Anwen’s looks and tried to assuage the younger female’s concerns.
“Listen,
he’s going to be fine. The first transition is always the most painful but
after that, the worst is over.” Quinn told their sibling. “Just head to the
trailer and get blankets and fluids ready for him. He’s going to definitely
need the blankets…” Quinn said as Anwen got into the jeep and started it up. He
saw Anwen’s greenish hazel eyes give him a final look before she drove off into
the woods. Britton was jumping up and
down in the snow, barefoot with only a pair of basketball shorts on. Henrik had
always thought Britton had a few screws loose but he’d never realized just how
many. His big brother gave him a toothy grin and began to sprint as he ran
towards the woods. Mid sprint, Britton erupted in a mass of dark fur and
disappeared into the forest. Henrik looked at the forest before looking to
Quinn and Archer. Archer was chuckling at his youngest brother’s wide eyed look
of equal parts wonder and surprise.
“Show
off!” Quinn shouted shaking her head and looking to Archer. “So… Are you going
wolf or am I?”
Archer
grinned as he shed his jacket and took off running. He transitioned more fluidly
than Britton and his fur was a tad darker than Britton’s. Henrik fell to his
knees and let out a scream of pain as his transition began to truly take place.
He looked down at what used to be his hands, a lighter brown than Archer’s fur
and paws had replaced his hands.
Henrik woke to feeling
better than he’d ever had. His senses were better and he didn’t feel like he’d
gone through a painful transition. Granted he didn’t recall much of said painful
transition. After showering and dressing
in actual clothes made for winter, Henrik made his way down to the kitchen
where he heard Britton’s yelp as something caused him pain.
“Duh! That’s what you
get for dropping the egg in oil!” Henrik heard joking tones of Quinn as he came
around the corner. As usual, Archer was sitting at the counter looking through
the newspaper; he turned the page after finding nothing interesting. Some song
by fall out boy was playing in the background as Quinn booted Britton out from
in front of the stove.
“Hen!” Anwen said as
she looked out from searching in the refrigerator. His other three siblings all
looked at him. Archer looked proud, like Henrik had done something fantastic.
Quinn grinned at him and gave him a thumbs up.
