A Werewolf's Saga Books 1, 2, & 3 (A Werewolf's Saga Boxed Sets)

by Michael Lampman

  In a weird way, he started expecting to feel this way. He started to expect the unexpected, but accepted it as it was. This alone made everything feel weird, and maybe even a little crazy. It felt like having a dream, walking in it, experiencing it while you were still fully awake. The row of doors stretched along the street and led up to individual doors. Each house sat neatly along the street. All of them looked connected to each other. It made them all look like one large building divided into separate individual homes. He passed each of them, moving along with a slow and steady stride.

  Each home sat at the top of a single set of stairs. Each door looked like they were marked with individual numbers. Each door looked different from the one next to it. Some looked painted with a simple gray colored paint, while others looked like plain old wood. One of them showed out from the rest. That one looked bright. Its red color blazed. He saw it with ease, and walked right to it.

  When he stepped in front of the house, which he just saw in his memory, he almost couldn’t believe it. It all looked the same. It’s been years since I’ve been here, but they all look the same. They haven’t changed. Nothing I guess does.

  He stopped on the sidewalk and looked to the door. He took a deep and exaggerated breath, and after he finished it, he closed off his mind. He let it go blank. He had to pause. He had to prepare himself for anything that was going to come next. When he felt ready, he finally moved.

  He made his way up the steps with caution, keeping his walk to a slow and steady stride. Each step looked like it was made of concrete and looked clean and neat. Along the sides of the steps, two black metal railings were bolted into the concrete of the step themselves. With them, everything looked so beautiful. He felt pride swell inside him as he looked at everything. He felt stronger seeing the railings. I installed them. He didn’t know why he felt this way, but he did. In fact, he could almost feel the drill in his hands that he used to place the holes in the concrete. He could almost feel the metal and the plastic of the screwdriver that he used to tighten the screws to hold the railing in place. He felt nothing but wonder remembering all of it. It felt just like yesterday when he did them. With that, he couldn’t doubt what he remembered anymore. He had no reason to, so he didn’t even try to do it.

  He walked to the top step and there he found himself staring at the brightly painted red door. A brass colored doorknocker sat in the center of it and it made it look new and unused. He looked down from the knocker, to the handle, and saw that it too looked like brass. It looked like a golden colored handset type of knob. Being there, and seeing all of it, he wasn’t sure of what to do next. Now what? He looked back to the knocker. Should I knock? Should I just let myself inside? He didn’t know. After some debate, he decided just to let himself inside. After all, this felt like his place. It felt like his home. He did it a thousand times before, and now, there was no difference. He tried the handle, but the thumb latch of the handle wouldn’t move. The door felt locked. Realizing it, his mind flashed.

  His thoughts turned to a memory that came rushing back into his mind, like a freight train would do coming at you from down the tracks. He could see the door. He could see himself walking up the steps and stopping just in front of it. He looked around towards his feet on the left, and could see himself bend down to an orange colored planter that sat there idly alone by the door and the railing. A single tree, one of those small ones that you could buy at any store was in the pot. He could see himself lift the planter and reach for a key tucked just underneath it. Seeing it, and after taking a deep breath, the memory faded, so he blinked and turned towards the left.

  He looked down to the floor of the small landing, and there, he saw an orange colored planter sitting quietly right next to the door. Seeing it, he almost lost his breaths. The small tree in it now looked withered and dead. He blinked again. It all seemed too much, as his heart skipped a beat. I’ll be Goddamned.

  He bent down, knowing what he was going to find next. He lifted the planter up with both hands, and there under it, a shiny gold colored key glimmered in the early afternoon sun. He picked up the key and replaced the planter back to the cement porch, and stood back up straight. This is too fucking weird, even with all of this considering. He took the key and placed it into the deadbolt just above the handle. The cylinder turned and the door clicked. For a brief instance, he hoped that it wouldn’t open. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see inside the house. This all seemed too weird, even for him.

  He opened the door and took a deep, deep breath. It creaked some, telling him that it hadn’t been opened in years. A stale smell flowed through him almost instantly from inside the house. Warmth came out with the smell. It felt natural. It felt wonderful. It felt comfortable. It even felt pleasing. He knew instantly that he felt it before.

  He let himself inside, coming into a small hallway that led to the back of the house. This is it. He took one-step, and then another. The hardwood floor creaked some under his sneakers as he moved to a single staircase that went up to the second floor, just on his left. To his right stood a vaulted archway that led into what looked like a living room. The early morning sun came in through a large bay window just at the front of the living room to his right. The air not only smelled stale but it also had the hint of dust all within it too. A musty smell also flared there, coming from everywhere all around him. It felt like the home hadn’t been cleaned in years. He took a deep breath, taking everything in. Instantly, it all smelled the same. It all smelled like life.

  Now what? He walked into the living room to an old looking Victorian style sofa that lye in the middle of the floor. The brightness of its red cloth showed strongly against the tan colored oriental style rug beneath it. Across from the sofa and him, a fireplace and mantle lined the wall. Its deep oak colored wood stood out against the mild white painted walls all around it. To his right, under the bay window, a bookshelf rested there, and was lined with books. An end table sat on each end of the bright red sofa. Old looking oil lamps sat on each end table. A small, deep brown coffee table stood silently in front of the sofa. Everything looked like it had dust on it, but everything looked neat. The home looked like it had character. It showed with the decay of age. It all looked so deserted. It all added to the look of the house as far as he could tell.

  He walked to the sofa, and stepped in front of it, in between it and the coffee table. Hello, old friend. He touched the back of the sofa and caressed its fabric with a gentle open hand. After he heard what he said, his heart seemed to flutter inside him. He wasn’t surprised with the thought, but only felt awkward with the statement.

  He looked to his left and could see another vaulted large doorway behind the living room and there, he could see what looked like a dining room with a large rectangular table, surrounded by chairs, in the center of it. Seeing it all, he took a deep breath. With everything, he felt like he did come home, now more than ever.

  It’s been such a long time. It’s been years since I’ve been here. He looked back to the mantle of the fireplace, and seeing it, his mind flashed again.

  He could see a fire burning in it. The image looked somewhat fuzzy, but still seemed brightly there. He watched the fire burn. He could see the embers flickering. The smell of the fire filtered all around him. The room looked dark, which explained the fuzzy memory. He looked to his right and then to his left. No one seemed to be in the room with him. The memory seemed to have no feelings to it—it just seemed there—and it told him everything that he already knew. He had been there before, all right. He lived there for years. He loved this place. He loved it more than any other home that he ever had.

  He brought his hands to his face and wiped at both of his eyes.

  Seeing the memory fade, he looked over to the fireplace and could see pictures in classical looking silver colored frames lining the top of the mantle. He walked over to them, seeing that all of the people in them had faces that he couldn’t seem to place. Some of them looked old. Some of the pictures looked somewhat fa
ded. Most of them had Collins in them. The one in the center of all of them caught his attention the most, so he picked it up. The picture looked large. It was in black and white. It looked old. It looked ancient even. You brought me here, so now what. He held it up towards his face. Collins was seated in the picture. He wore clothes that looked like they were from a long time ago. It almost looked like it was from the early nineteen hundreds, but he couldn’t be sure of the thought. “Why me?” he asked the picture. “Why did you pick me?” he questioned out loud. The picture didn’t answer him, why would it.

  He replaced the frame back to its spot on the mantle, and turned back to the hallway towards the foyer, left the living room, and stopped just under the archway.

  Once there, his mind flashed again, but this time he could see himself walking through the front door and heading towards the stairs. There, a hand came into view on his left. The hand carried a jacket, or some type of coat, and he watched it place the coat over the railing, hanging it and setting it there. He watched as he walked to the side of the stairs, stopped and turned left.

  A gray colored door stood there, looking like it went to a room under the stairs. He saw another hand, this time from his right, come in front of him and turn an old looking knob on that gray door. He watched as the same hand then pushed open the door, revealing what looked like stairs that went down and to the left.

  He blinked and turned right. He left the archway and walked to the side of the staircase, and once there, on his left, he turned and there, he saw the gray door. All that he saw no longer concerned him. All of it suddenly seemed easier to get used to than it probably should have been at first.

  He reached for the door, and turned the old oval iron colored knob with his right hand, and the door opened up to a set of stairs that led down and to his left.

  The smell of mustiness came stronger than it ever did before. It flowed up towards him, coming from the stairs. It came from the room beneath him. He was down there, he thought, not sure of what he even just said. The dreamer in him still felt asleep. He just already seemed to know the answer. He knew what he said felt right. He just didn’t know why. He didn’t know how he knew anything.

  He stared at the stairs, was about to head down them, when the sound of a car door slamming outside snapped him back to where he was.

  The sounds of heels on concrete came next, heading up the stairs and towards the front door.

  Now what? Who could be here? Who was coming? He then listened to whoever it was then flip the handle. Hearing it, his legs locked in place. He couldn’t move. He didn’t know what to think. All he knew was that someone was coming. The smell of who she was came to him just as the door opened, and he saw who it was.

  12

  Rachel opened the door.

  It took her all but two seconds to see Jimmy standing there at the side of the staircase directly in front of her.

  Seeing him, she rushed him without another thought. A massive smile flew over her face. “Jimmy?”

  “Rachel?” He couldn’t believe who he saw. He didn’t expect to see her, which seemed beyond obvious. Why is she here? How did she find me? Everything flashed in his mind.

  She flung herself into his arms.

  He hugged her tightly, wrapping her with his embrace. The smell of her hair flew through his nose. Her familiar scent raced through his mind. God, it feels so good to see her again.

  She hugged him tightly. She felt beyond happy to see him again.

  “What are you doing here?” He released her but held her shoulders tightly in front of him. He then took his right hand and took her by the chin, and brought her face up to his with a gentle hold.

  “I had to find you. I had to see if you were all right.” The smile grew on her face.

  God, what a beautiful smile she had. She looked like the sun. Her face lit up the room with its brilliance.

  “I had to come.”

  He pulled her to him again. Her full presence raced through his mind. He absorbed it. He loved it so much; so much so, he had to breathe her in. However, the feeling didn’t last long. Suddenly, and quite quickly, he saw the wolf again in his mind, and right after that, he saw Sasha then throw him into the room. He saw her growl, and seeing it, and feeling it, fear gripped him almost instantly. Everything slapped at his mind, and seeing Rachel again, the slap continued deeply into his heart. In fact, it even felt like a thunderbolt. He had to release his grip and take one-step back. He wasn’t sure what to do next, or what to say, and luckily, he saw Brandon come in through the door behind her, and seeing him, everything else seemed to go away. Seeing him, he couldn’t believe that he was there, but with remembering what he was, and more importantly how dangerous that thing is, he felt thankful for it.

  “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Brandon smiled as he stepped through the front door. Seeing his friend again almost brought a tear to his eyes. He never thought that he would see him again. He felt so happy with how wrong he was.

  Jimmy‘s eyes grew large. He gasped. “Brandon? What the hell are you doing here?” He moved towards him, took his friend into his arms, and hugged him tightly.

  Brandon did the same thing. He couldn’t believe it. Feeling awkward suddenly, for hugging his best friend, he pulled away from the embrace just as quickly. Besides, he had other things on his mind and it had nothing to do with hugging his only friend. “Where the fuck have you been? You scared the living shit out of me, you know that?” He grinned.

  Brandon’s face made Jimmy smile fully. He always seemed to be that same little boy that he always knew. He never changed. He figured that he never would, and quite frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I’m sorry.” He shrugged his shoulders and put both of his hands into the front pockets of his jean. He turned back and looked back to Rachel.

  Rachel felt Jimmy back off. She didn’t like the feeling, but she understood it. He feels afraid. He’s afraid of what he is. She knew it, but she didn’t have to like it. When he looked back at her, she saw the look on his face. He looked shocked. He looked confused. He obviously needed to know how much Brandon knew about everything that was going on. Seeing it, and understanding him, she shook her head softly, no.

  He nodded, understanding her. Brandon didn’t know the whole truth. He didn’t know what he was, or what was going on. Now knowing that, he knew that he had to come up with something to answer his friend. “I’m sorry Brandon, but I had to leave. I’m also sorry that I didn’t have the chance to say anything before I left.” He turned back towards him and gave him a full and hearty smile. “Everything happened so fast.” He let out a huge gush of air that sounded beyond deep. It almost sounded like a wail. It even seemed to echo around the room.

  Brandon shrugged now. “What?” He shook his head. “What happened?”

  Jimmy wasn’t about to go into it, so he turned back to Rachel. “How did you find me here?” Changing the subject always seemed to be the best way to go, so why stop with the practice now.

  Brandon looked to the floor. His friend wasn’t going to answer him, and he felt that instantly. Only a fool wouldn’t have noticed the changing of the subject.

  Rachel left the side of the staircase, walked to the archway, and there she stopped. “I found Collins’ address in Richard Ross’ files. I figured this was the best place to find you.” She smiled. “I guess I won the bet.” She laughed softly.

  Jimmy nodded, understanding everything. Her little laugh made him almost melt.

  “How long have you been here?” Rachel blinked and took the time as he answered her, to look over him. What she saw made her take a deep breath. He looked completely healthy. He looked strong, and with it, every thought of him being hurt disappeared completely from her mind. Her prayers, it seemed, were answered with one gentle look.

  “I came here just this morning.” He looked back over towards Brandon and then went back again to Rachel. “I found out about this place last night.” He too, took the time to look over her. She look
ed beyond wonderful. She looked just as perfect as he always remembered her to be.

  Rachel looked into his eyes. The melting they always caused her soul still seemed strongly there. She couldn’t resist him. She no longer really wanted to try to do it. “What have you found out so far?” She smiled.

  Her smile seemed like the sun coming up just after a thunderstorm rolled through town. “I found where Collins was before he came up to the labs.” His smile disappeared. Should I tell her about finding the others? Should I tell her about everything? He didn’t know. How will she handle it? How will she take it? The thoughts seemed heavy and weighted down. He didn’t know, but thankfully, with Brandon there, now wasn’t the time to make that decision anyway. He would wait. It gave him the time.

  Brandon stepped between the two of them, stepped to Jimmy’s right side and to Rachel’s left. “Who’s Collins?” He heard enough, and felt more than ever that it was his time to come in with a few questions of his own. He couldn’t help Jimmy if he didn’t know what happened with him in the first place.

  Jimmy looked to the floor, and again, he knew that he had to come up with something fast. “He’s the reason I’m here.” He didn’t know what else to say. In a funny way, it sounded more like the truth than what he wanted to say.

  “Why is that?” Brandon took him by the arm and squeezed him firmly.

  Jimmy looked up to Rachel and then back again to Brandon as he lied. “He got me caught up in something. I guess I’ve fallen in with a bad crowd.” The lie sounded better than he thought. In all actuality, it wasn’t really that far off the truth.

  “You fell in with the wrong crowd?” Brandon let go of Jimmy’s arm. “Does this have to do with money or something?”

  Jimmy looked to Rachel with his eyes up and his face turning down low. “Something like that yeah.” That sounded better than what he could have come up with himself. Leave it to good ole Brandon to find a better lie than what I could have come up with by myself.