by Lewis, D. C.
Eyeing her daughter up and down, Katrina made no move to argue, simply nodding her head in agreement and stating, “Yes, I think you are right, go relax, you are going to need all your energy to recover.”
Not really prepared for the lack of argument, Kiera stood there slightly dazed at Katrina’s response. Gathering herself, Kiera turned and headed back up to her room before Katrina could change her mind.
Twenty-Three
Going down the stairs was much easier than going back up. Kiera’s muscles were still sore and recovering. While it was uncomfortable, it didn't impede her march up the wooden pedestals and to her bedroom. The journey had taken quite a bit out of her and she was feeling tired but there was something else she must do.
Sitting down on her bed, she quickly pulled some shoes on. The temptation just to lie down and rest was all too appealing. The little outing Kiera had planned could have waited for another time, but her teenage curiosity was winning out.
Finishing tying her shoes, she stood up and prepared to escape through her bay window when something caught her eye. Tiny red strings, all in different lengths, littered her sleeping place. Perhaps a dozen pieces of thread, in various places at the head of her bed, puzzled Kiera as to their origin.
Picking one up, she carefully examined it, noticing they were saturated with a fleshy smell. It was then that Kiera realized that these must have been the stitches that closed her wounds and helped save her life. During the healing process, they were either dissolved or stretched to breaking as Kiera’s body healed itself. Once she knew her mother had stitched her up and that her shoulder once again looked like it did before the attack, Kiera had wondered what had happened to them, still she could not accept her Lycoan side. Part of her would have preferred death to “changing”, though that part of her was no longer the majority.
Collecting the pieces, not really sure what to do with them, she laid them down on her desk, to deal with them later. Opening the big bay window, she was greeted by the pleasant aroma of nature. It put a smile on her face as it always did when she encountered the outdoors.
It had been quite a few years since she had exited her room in this fashion and in her current state, she wasn’t exactly sure she could do so successfully But an urge to find an answer spurned her on. Part of her did worry about a possible attack when she left the safety of her sanctuary but she felt rather confident that Larissa woudn’t attack her in broad daylight. This idea being reinforced with the fact Katrina wasn’t at home maintaining a constant vigil.
She had discovered this method of departure when she was but a little girl who wanted to be defiant and rebel against her mother when forced to go to bed at a certain hour. This escape route provided her with many nights of sneaking out to simply sit on the pier and look at the stars. Sometimes Kiera would take a pillow and blanket with her and fall asleep looking at the moon only to wake up hours later and rush back to her room so Katrina wouldn’t find out. What Kiera didn’t know was that her mother would stand in the shadows on the back deck, watching her, amused at how much Kiera was like her at that age.
Trying to recall the exact method for reaching the ground unscathed, Kiera swung one leg out over the windowsill, looking for a tiny ledge formed by a series of bricks just below the window. After a few tries she located it. It was much narrower than she remembers, but then again, her foot was much bigger than it was the last time she did this.
Throwing her other leg over, she maintained a death grip on the windowsill with her hands. Now with both feet on the ledge, she shimmied to her right, looking for another series of bricks that formed a quasi-ladder that would assist her in getting the rest of the way down. The bricks were right where she remembered and she carefully moved each hand to one of the warm red stones. Her hands were much bigger as well and basically all she was using to remain adhered to the side of the house was the strength in her fingertips and toes.
Carefully she started the descent, knowing that she didn’t look as graceful as a certain web-slinging superhero, but she was accomplishing her goal. The climb down took no time and Kiera was soon on the ground, the spongy grass a welcome feeling.
Her fingertips were covered in red dust from gripping the bricks so hard. The dust had also managed to find its way under her fingernails, something that would have to be addressed later, right now, more important matters were at hand.
Making her way towards the tree line, Kiera was using her sense of smell as much as her vision, hoping to reveal the answer to a question she had since she experienced her mother’s scent dream. There at the edge of the woods, Kiera opened herself and let her senses take control, looking for something in particular.
She had always thought the disturbance she had witnessed a few nights ago in the woods across from her bedroom was just your average, everyday wildlife, now she wasn’t so sure. Coming out here, she hoped she could maybe smell traces of whatever it was and if her thinking proved to be correct, maybe even come upon another scent dream.
All she encountered in the yard was the smell of the woods during summer, plus an oddly familiar scent, that she had smelled before that definitely didn’t come from her mother. The fact that this particular smell kept presenting itself both intrigued and scared Kiera, scared because she felt like she knew who it came from.
Stepping past the demarcation line from yard to forest, Kiera began to make her way around the perimeter of her mother’s property. Rotten twigs and leaves crunched underfoot, sending tiny wildlife scattering in all directions. Kiera had to duck to avoid low-hanging branches but still they found some way to get their wooden fingers into her hair, and more than once she had to untangle herself from their grasp. But something kept her moving forward, a thirst for knowledge that only the answer to a question could quench.
Treading her way through the undergrowth, she came to the area she was looking for and her breath stopped.
An area the size of a large closet had been wallowed out, obviously by some large creature. Paw prints littered the ground and that familiar smell was very potent here, as if whatever trampled this ground spent a lot of time here. Surveying the area, Kiera noticed that the paw prints left and entered the same way each time, not straying from a designated path. Kiera followed the tracks to their end where it looks like the creature had spent the most time. Squatting down and looking through the foliage, doing her best to gauge the creature’s height, Kiera’s blood froze in her veins when she realized what she was looking at, her bedroom window. It was in full sight, clear as day. Whatever it was, it kept a watch on her from this spot.
Suddenly feeling very vulnerable, Kiera wanted nothing more than to leave this area. Knowing its purpose, it made her feel unclean. Controlling her fear and letting her rational mind take control, she knew that she needed to find a way to cover her tracks. She couldn’t tell how fresh the Lycoan prints were, not being very skilled at tracking, but just in case it was who she thought, she didn’t want Larissa knowing she was there. The knowledge of the secret lookout point might be useful sometime in the future, especially if Larissa decided to come back to this area.
Not sure of the best way to cover tracks made in the damp earth, Kiera brainstormed numerous ideas. She decided to let nature do the work for her and quickly backtracked the way she came, rushing past brush and branches, wanting to be done with this as soon as possible. She knew that it was highly unlikely that Larissa would come back during the day. With that, combined with the fact that she had likely fled town, still Kiera felt uncomfortable and wanted to be done with this fact-finding expedition.
Walking back towards the house, Kiera hoped that the trash man hadn't come yet since what she was looking for was in the big green plastic container. A few days ago, she had thrown out some old food that she had brought with her from college. A distinctive rotten odor had started to emanate from the refrigerator and in order to spare herself a lecture from her mother, she got a small plastic bag, dropped all the spoiled food in it and promptly dumped it
in the trashcan outside. Hopefully the stinky bag was still there, otherwise she would have to come up with something else.
Walking around the side of the house, Kiera stayed as close to the wall as possible. Not that it would do her much good since her mother would be able to easily smell her if she was outside, but Kiera felt like this project required a certain amount of skulking.
From the smell coming from the trashcan, the bag of food was still there, doing nothing more than cooking and rotting in the summer heat, the trashcan becoming a natural microwave. Kiera really wasn’t looking forward to opening the lid and unleashing the smell but the bag was a key component of her plan.
Peeking around the corner of the house one last time to make sure Katrina wasn’t around, Kiera made a dash for the can. Reaching it and unlatching the black rubber strap and throwing back the lid, Kiera almost gagged at the smell that immediately assaulted her nostrils. She was not living up to her reputation of having a legendary strong stomach.
Over the past few days, other things had been piled on top and she had to dig around, holding her breath the entire time, until she locates the bag. Pulling the bag from its resting place, Kiera could see a dark liquid had accumulated at the bottom, which she found quite interesting since only solids had entered the bag when Kiera had thrown the stuff away. Just the thought of what was currently residing in that bag caused Kiera’s stomach to lurch once more and she was reminded of the time Brandon got nauseous when he stepped into that fresh pile of dog poo.
“Wow,” Kiera said to herself, “I haven’t thought of Brandon since I was being attacked.” She hadn’t even checked her phone or her email that entire day, a strange thing for her not to do.
Running back towards the woods with bag in hand, Kiera simply wanted this to be over with and to be back in the house, particularly her room where she felt most safe. However that feeling had been somewhat tainted by the revelation that she was being spied on.
Entering the woods, she was not paying attention and the bag snagged on a fallen branch, tearing a hole in the bottom and releasing some of the dark liquid. The foul smell was unbelievable and in the process of removing the bag from the branch, some of the liquid splashed on Kiera’s shorts. She swore she could feel the liquid soaking through the cloth and burning her flesh, even though she knew this to be ridiculous.
Gathering a little more speed, she rushed to dump the bag of rot at the outlook site. By the time she arrives at her destination, most of the liquid had leaked out of the bag, leaving a stinky trail of goo that might actually be a beneficial accident for what Kiera had in mind. Giving it a solid toss, careful to avoid anything else that wanted to vomit forth from the hole in the plastic sack, Kiera watched as the bag fell practically in to the center of the clearing.
She thought back to a time as a little girl when she had accidentally left the lid to the trashcan unhooked. Raccoons had discovered her error and managed to open the lid, get into the can, and litter the entire front yard with trash as they feasted on garbage. Katrina had been inflamed and Kiera had spent the better part of a Saturday morning cleaning up after the nocturnal raiders. At the time she was very annoyed at the chore, now she was thankful for it since it was the inspiration for her idea to conceal her tracks. With any luck, the animals of the night would pick up on the smell of a free meal and come to the clearing. Kiera hoped a repeat of her childhood incident would occur and, during their feeding frenzy, they would tear up the damp earth with the same efficiency that they tore up the front yard all those years ago. Anything or anybody coming into this clearing would think that the raccoons had gotten into the trash and dragged their prize here to consume it.
Kiera was hopeful that the trail of disgustingness that began when the bag got a rip would cause more garbage feeders to pick up on the scent and locate the treasure at the end of the putrid rainbow. She could imagine all the chaos as one or two found the feast and then more and more started to trickle in, fighting over rotten scraps, spreading the scent of spoiled food around the area, masking the scent of Kiera’s presence.
All in all, she was proud of her accomplishment and surprised that something which happened from her past and was nothing but a pure accident could provide such a useful solution years later. But even here, in this moment, this situation, she felt as if she has been groomed, controlled, once again not really in control of her destiny, more like a pawn on some higher power’s chessboard. It was a frustrating feeling but one that would have to be dealt with later. Too many other things were happening to put any brain power towards the unanswerable question that had been plaguing her for so long.
Carefully picking her way back out of the woods, she kept as close to the trail of stench as possible, hoping that the animals to feed on it would tread over her tracks here as well. Kiera actually tried her best to step in her own footprints on the way back out, her shoes getting wet from the water that had collected in the imprints of her incoming trip, creating miniature lakes that wildlife was already swarming to.
Stepping out of the woods was a huge relief, like a weight had been lifted off her. She hadn’t really been comfortable after she discovered the clearing. She felt like an unseen pair of eyes was watching her every move - irrational she knew, but nonetheless she couldn’t deny how she felt.
Doing a quick scan to make sure Katrina was nowhere in sight, Kiera dashed across the backyard, sore muscles protesting the entire time, and came to stand under her bedroom window. Ready to scramble back up her escape route and to the comforting confines of her bedroom, Kiera found a handhold on the sun-heated brick and began the climb back up. It was when she tried to get her first foothold that she realized she had a problem. The water, mud, slime, and other ick from her soiree in the woods had coated her shoes and made them incredibly slick, enough so that there was no friction between shoe and brick to make this climb.
Hopping back down off the wall, Kiera quickly removed her shoes.
“Another pair ruined,” she mumbled as she pulled them off, noticing the familiar smell of garbage.
Stashing the newest victim of the summer mud behind one of the big bushes close by, and hoping that Katrina wouldn't smell the stench and come investigate, Kiera prepared once more to make the ascent. She wasn't looking forward to making the climb barefoot but didn't see any other option if she didn't want her mother finding out, and have to go through a whole explanation of what she was doing and why. She still wasn’t sure if she would tell her mother about her discovery. Something about it felt private, like it should be only between Kiera and the creature watching her. Kiera did understand how thinking like this could lead to ruin, but now just wasn't the time to reveal this information.
Locating her handholds once more, she scrambled back up the wall, this time shimmying towards the windowsill and scrambling back through the opening to land safely in her bedroom.
The summer heat had leached all coolness from her room, the big window being left open during her excursion. The air conditioning had tried to battle the intruding heat but had lost to Mother Nature and the room was quite warm. Kiera could hear a fly, another unwelcome intruder, buzzing around looking for a place to land and defecate. Turning around to close the window and bar any further entry of unwanted guests, Kiera’s first order of business was to wash off her feet and legs where the toxic waste had splashed her. Her shorts were questionable, the liquid having soaked through to her bare skin and she wondered if amount of washing would rid them of the taint but she was willing to try and chucked them into the empty hamper.
Sitting on the side of the large porcelain tub adjacent to her shower, Kiera ran her feet under the steady flow of water, surprised at how dirty her legs and feet really were as she watched the grime slide off. Armed with all the necessary cleaning items, she washed each leg and foot, making sure to get in between each toe and voraciously attack all spots of contamination. By the end of the process, the washcloth has absorbed the smell of funk and instead of putting any effort in to trying
to remove the odor from the offensive piece of cloth, Kiera found a trash bag under her sink, placed the washcloth in it, and tied it tight with full intention of throwing it out the next time she went downstairs.
The room was starting to cool now that she had sealed it. Feeling completely spent, Kiera flopped down in her bed. She knew that she should give Brandon a call but didn't feel like being social at present. So many things had happened in the past thirty-six hours that she had to sift through, the most important being her “change”.
She never thought it would happen. All these years denying that side of her had led to her foolishly believing that if she didn’t give into it, it would just go away. Just like an addict who avoids dealing with their issue, Kiera did as well, and just like the addict, the problem didn’t go away. Instead it waited until Kiera was at her weakest and then it struck. She did have to admire its tenacity, its ability to manifest itself verbally to come to her rescue, to take control when she couldn’t do it herself. There really was no denying that part of her any more, it would be foolish even to try now. She was going to have to come to grips with it at some point.
Even now she could feel it just below the surface of her consciousness, locked back in its cage, waiting for its chance to be released once more. Kiera recalled the struggle that ensued to regain control of it once it had been unleashed. For a short time Kiera wondered if she were going to win out or if she would become the one locked away while her Lycoan side ran free and uninhibited. The thought terrified her and to some degree, she could be empathetic to her Lycoan side but not enough to let it take control of her ever again. The potential to lose who she was was just too great, a risk she was not willing to take.
Still she couldn’t help having a natural curiosity, replaying moments over and over in her mind, particularly the feeling of power that ran through her body when she was in Lycoan form. She couldn’t comprehend how it would have felt had she not been so seriously injured. She imagines that it would come close to invincibility.
