Rebecca doubted that; at least she had believed what he had confessed a few minutes before when they had been alone in the interrogation room. Not that she was a very good judge of character, but she had a feeling that, even when young-looking Will was more than met the eye, it couldn’t possibly be what the others had to be thinking of him. She had believed everything Dylan, the experienced vampire and werewolf hunter, had to say in almost anything, except for this. For the first time, Rebecca was in a position to trust her instincts more I than what her mentor and partner said. He was wrong. He had to be. He was not infallible, was he? More like he was prejudiced, she was sure of it.
The long rectangular table was almost the size of the windowless room. The wood finish was worn and unkempt, and the squeaky, leather chairs looked like they hadn’t been upgraded for decades. Around them, the gray wall gave contrast to the faded brown of the furniture, illuminated by the bright fluorescent lights. Like the rest of the building, nobody had thought it necessary to make this room appear a little more appealing to the eye in any way. The safe-house known as The Pecan had one purpose and one purpose only, it seemed. Nothing else mattered.
The extensive table sat twelve and on one end, farthest from the door, Lucius waited. The old vampire sat rubbing both hands in front of him, elbows on the table. Around him, Rebecca noticed new and unfamiliar faces among those she knew well.
To Lucius’ right another agent, Scott, a vampire Rebecca mostly knew as her neighbor at the agency. She barely knew him, but remembered she had met him during her first day inside the compound she now called home. To the director’s left, Josh Watters. The thirty-year-old human and Federal agent assigned to personally assist Lucius, the director of the vampire agency, looked just as he had looked that morning. With his suit impeccable as always, he opened his computer in front of him ready to aid his boss like he always did, efficiently. Even when Josh had never really warmed up to Rebecca – nor to any vampire in the agency, really – he was always calm and composed even knowing he worked in a nest filled with blood-sucking vampires. Now here he was, meeting a different type of supernatural being, a werewolf. All in all, Rebecca admired his bravery, determination, and loyalty.
Next to him were three women she didn’t know. By their scent, she could tell two were human and one was not.
The human woman sitting next to agent Watters was much older than the other two. She had straight, jet-black hair that ended just above her shoulders. Her skin was dark, but her eyes were green. She looked coming out of a fairy tale, with a long black dress that revealed way too much. The lady also seemed to be obsessed with jewelry; Rebecca could not understand how a woman could carry so much weight around her neck and ears. Her fingers were filled with rings and her arms with bracelets.
The younger woman sitting next to her, while having dressed similarly to the older woman, was her complete opposite. Not only was she younger, but her skin was white and pale, her hair much longer and the color of silver. Her dress wasn’t black, but a combination of beige and brown which almost made it look like a rag. Even when her body was covered in jewelry, as well, it wasn’t as excessive as her companion’s. Rebecca knew that, in order to have won the privilege to be sitting at that table, there needed to be something special about these women. Something more than human.
That brought her to the female vampire sitting next in line. It wasn’t a rare event to meet a vampire who happened to be a woman in the agency. Granted, the ratio of male vampire agents outnumbered the female – Rebecca was one of the few – except she had never had the pleasure of meeting this particular one. She was a remarkably beautiful woman, who didn’t seem to cover herself in gold nor expose her femininity like the other two did. The clothes she wore were more formal and they revealed nothing of her beauty. Like Rebecca had worn before fighting werewolves a few hours before, she wore a dark and feminine grey suit fitted to perfection. The woman looked regal and confident, two qualities Rebecca doubted she would ever possess as she studied her. Her long wavy brown hair was tied back with a satin lace that matched the color of her clothes. Her blue eyes and pink lips were the only things that brought color to her frame. She didn’t seem to need any other embellishment.
The table was long enough for one last person on the right and that person was Jake Anders, the agency’s lawyer and a vampire himself. Rebecca had known him briefly when she had first come to the agency. She remembered him as a kind and caring man who was good at what he did for a living. Even more important than that, he had once been Dylan’s partner. That had happened long ago, yet it seemed something Rebecca shouldn’t forget; especially not the harsh words he had to say about his former partner. Rebecca had never believed Dylan could have been such a cruel creature until that day. She wondered if he had treated Jake with the same demeanor he was treating the werewolf Will, back when they had worked together.
Will stood next to Jake, his hands still handcuffed behind his back while Dylan held his arm tight as he walked him into the room where the rest waited. Rebecca and Grant had taken two of the four chairs still empty on the other side of the table.
“Please release him, agent Torrence,” Lucius commanded. “The collar should be enough to keep him under control should he attempt something foolish.”
Dylan looked to object, but complied quietly. In a few seconds, William rubbed his free wrists and stretch his back, enjoying his freedom.
“Sit down,” was Lucius next command, this time directed at the werewolf. Will turned to stare at him, offended. Watching his reaction, the director of the vampire agency added, “Please.”
After a long silence, where Will’s heart kept struggling to keep calm, he said, “I don’t have the pleasure of knowing some of you,” he looked around the table as he finally sat, “My name is William Woods, and I am a werewolf. Would you mind telling me who the rest of you are?”
After hearing his introduction, all who sat at the table turned to look at Lucius wondering how to proceed.
“Mr. Woods,” it was Lucius who spoke again, “I am the director of the North American Vampire Secret Agency, otherwise known as NAVSA. You are my guest. Choose your words wisely, for I will be the one responsible for your fate today.”
William was nodding quickly in understanding, “Yes, sir. A pleasure to meet you.”
Lucius then took a deep breath, “This is agent Josh Watters,” he pointed at the human beside him, “the witches, Victoria and Jasmine,” he pointed to the exotic women, “agent Alyssa Stone,” Rebecca took note of their names, “and our lawyer, Jacob Anders.”
“Nice to meet you all,” the werewolf said.
“To my right,” continued the director, “agent Scott Wilson, one of the werewolf hunters working for the agency, followed by Dr. Gr-“
“Dr. Grant Helm,” Lucius’ grave expression at the interruption made Will add, “Forgive me, sir, but I’ve had the pleasure. I have followed Dr. Helm’s work for years.”
“Right,” said Lucius calmly, “and I am sure you have also been acquainted with the werewolf hunters who helped bring you to this location,” he motioned for Dylan and Rebecca.
“Yes, sir, I have,” responded Will.
It was Alyssa who spoke next, her voice gentle and feminine. “Lucius, could we get this man a shirt? I hate to see him treated like this. He is, after all, our guest.”
Rebecca could have sworn the director grumbled at the suggestion, but instead of snapping back at her with a witty remark, he reluctantly turned to Josh, nodding in approval. The human agent quickly stood up and exited the room; when he returned, he came back with a non-descript gray shirt for William to wear.
“Thank you, my lady,” William turned to her, “I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” she said with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll feel more comfortable telling us your story if you feel like we care to listen to it.”
“And we do,” added Grant. “I mean, we are very interested in hearing what you have to say.”
&n
bsp; Rebecca glanced at Dylan, but she couldn’t see or feel any reaction coming from him.
The lawyer spoke next to introduce himself, “Jake Anders, Mr. Woods, nice to meet you,” the first of the vampires to stretch his hand for William to shake. The werewolf looked at him incredulous at first, but was soon returning the handshake.
“A pleasure, Mr. Anders,” he said in turn, “To tell the truth, I have always been William, but I adopted the last name Woods so long ago it is my legal name for all ends and purposes.”
“I see,” the lawyer looked interested. In front of him he had been keeping a folder, no doubt with all the information he could find on their new guest. It made Rebecca remember the first time she’d met him. He had also had a file for her, yet it seemed there wasn’t much to the werewolf’s life to be recorded. Turning to Lucius, Jake apologized before standing up, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a few phone calls now that I have this new information.”
Lucius said nothing except nod his head once. With nothing else to say, the lawyer stepped out of the room leaving the seat to Will’s right empty.
“Mr. Woods,” Lucius said after a while, “We are more than eager to learn about you. Perhaps you’d care to start your tale. I am sure we will all learn much from each other today.”
“I hope so,”
Lucius agreed, “Whenever you are ready, please begin.”
“I suppose I should start from the beginning,” William exhaled, “from my childhood, with who I was and how it came to be who I became.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds, trying to bring all those memories back to the present. He knew reliving his past would be difficult. He had never told this story to anyone and now he was about to expose his soul to a group of deadly strangers who may kill him if he said the wrong thing or moved the wrong way.
Part of him knew it didn’t really matter. If at the end of this they decided he should die, they would be doing him a favor. One of the reasons he had risked everything to be in a room filled with vampires – some of them werewolf hunters – was because he knew if he didn’t try, he was sure the day would soon come when he decided life was no longer worth living.
It was still worth living. At least worth one last shot. That’s why he had come. These powerful beings were giving him a chance and he would do everything in his power to gain their trust. He belonged with them and not with his own kind, he knew as much.
“I was born here, in the United States, in the year 1911. Back then I lived in a small village. I couldn’t tell you which state, because, honestly, I don’t really remember. But it was in the west. Perhaps Oregon, but I could be wrong. I remember it got cold and snowy in the winter and not that hot in the summer. We didn’t have cars. I remember my father would travel to the nearest town and rarely took one of us. We lived separated from most of the world where I grew up. Regardless, all I know for sure is our village was small and each family owned a farm and we were surrounded by trees. Not trees like the ones outside this building, no. Our trees were leafy and wide, with thick trunks. Perhaps cedars or maples. I don’t know much about trees, not then and not now. I wish I had known, to tell the truth, that way I could have made my way back to the place I was born. I gave up on finding it long ago.”
He stopped to look at their faces. He wondered if he had talked about trees too much. He wondered if that was what they wanted to hear. He wondered if they were even listening to a word he was saying or if they were secretly planning how to best end his life. The room simply remained silent and every single pair of eyes was on him.
Clearing his throat, he continued. “I do remember my house. It was small, with two rooms. My parents and our neighbors helped build it before I was born. I know because as I grew older I helped build houses as new families began and I knew it had once happened for us. My parents were regular people. They worked and had children, that’s all they did. My father worked the fields and my mother took care of the children and the house. When we were old enough, we helped around. Life was much different then.
“I had three sisters and two brothers. I wasn’t the oldest or youngest, I was somewhere in the middle. We all looked alike. I don’t really remember their faces, but I remember we all had the same skin, the same eyes, the same hair,” he found that amusing as he told them that, “I don’t know, it was a small village; perhaps my parents were related, you know?” No one seemed to show any sympathy or interest. No emotion. A few shifted in their seats, changed position; perhaps the women brushed their hair back with one hand. Nothing else.
“And I know I used to be different. My kind of different wasn’t at all how I am now, of course.” William took a deep breath, it was a difficult thing to admit. “I didn’t speak when I was human. Not a word. I could do it and I chose not to. I was afraid, always afraid. There were so many things I didn’t understand and every time I needed to speak I got so anxious and afraid that I decided not to do it at all. They let me be like this; my family decided that was just how I was, so I don’t remember ever feeling pressured to talk. If I wasn’t needed around the house or the farm I would go to the barn and I would lie down on the hay and just stare at the ceiling. I don’t know why I did that, but if anything, I have the clear memory of those wooden boards nailed together on top of me in that barn. Maybe there wasn’t anything else for me to do or anything else that interested me. There weren’t books or television. Even if there were books, I didn’t even know how to read because all I knew was how to work on the farm and help around the house. There wasn’t anything else to look forward to.
“My parents were happy, or at least content, and my brothers and sisters seemed to be happy, too. I was the strange one, the one who didn’t fit in. I slowly separated myself from an already isolated world because I didn’t want to believe that was all the world was.
“And so I daydreamed in that barn for years, making up worlds and just thinking that one day I would run away to a world that clearly didn’t exist. Yet, I remember thinking I didn’t want to marry some girl from our same village and start running a farm on my own with my own children to help me with my work.
“I just… never saw that happening.”
William paused for effect, his audience looked attentive, yet disappointed. Or at least that’s what he thought. He doubted these vampires and witches had expected to come to a house in the middle of nowhere to listen to him brood about his boring human existence.
He knew his story wasn’t just about that. He knew the parts that came next. He knew. This was why they had all bothered to come listen to what he had to say.
“When I was seventeen years old, they came,” he finally revealed. “It was dark and I had fallen asleep in the barn. I used to do it a lot, so no one ever worried about me if I didn’t show up for dinner or for bed at night in a room I shared with five of my siblings.” William reconsidered, “Or four, because I think one of my sisters had died of some illness before the werewolves came. I think I remember that.”
William knew they wouldn’t want him to stop, not then. Not when the story was about to get interesting. “The werewolves came. It was only three of them. I don’t think they meant to walk that way, but they did. They came to our house and I woke up to hear my father shouting. He owned a shotgun and I heard him use it. I heard my mother and my brothers and sisters screaming. Yet, I did not move from the barn. I was petrified with fear. I sat there scared out of my mind praying I would be spared; cowardly hiding while my family begged for help.
“And I was spared, in a way.
“As quiet as I tried to be, the werewolves still found me out. I saw one of them enter the barn. I saw, for the first time, the beast that I would become. It was a big black monster, with teeth and fangs too big for its snout. Its yellow eyes glittered in the dark. Quickly, I stood up and did the only thing I thought to do. Since I always slept below the hayloft, I ran to the ladder and started to climb. The werewolf followed me and managed to scratch my leg with its paw. It was deep and painful, but not enoug
h to stop me from reaching the top. The werewolf couldn’t figure out how to reach me as much as he jumped and tried to get on that ladder like a man would. Instead, he began to run against the walls, trying to bring the entire building down and me down with it. He tried and tried until finally, everything fell down on me. I must’ve hit my head because I lost consciousness. When I woke up I was buried in broken wood and hay, but I was alive and the sun was up in the sky.”
“Did it bite you?” asked Grant.
William shook his head, “No. Not that I could tell. My leg hurt, where it had scratched me deep enough to reach the bone, but I didn’t feel like it had bitten me anywhere else. The claw marks were clear and deep on my leg. I had lost a lot of blood.”
“But, if it didn’t bite you-“
This made William smile. “Why did I still turn into a werewolf? I always thought you knew,” he answered Grant, “It’s like a virus. It spreads depending on how you are infected. Most people don’t turn just from a scratch, but some lucky ones do. If you are bitten you are surely doomed because the werewolf DNA spreads faster. As far as I know, if you are bitten on the neck is the fastest way to create another werewolf - that is, if your head managed to stay on top of your shoulders. If you got bitten on the hand or legs the transformation usually takes a few days.”
“And a scratch?”
“If the scratch is enough to trigger the transformation, it can take weeks… even months.”
It was Lucius who spoke next, “I have heard of this before,” he stated, “Werewolves are dangerous creatures, usually leaving only death in their path. Their natural instinct is to kill, not turn more like them.”
William added, “This is true of the younger ones, sir. Once werewolves have more control over their actions, everything changes.”
The director nodded; it was unclear if he had already known this or not.
“Is that why you created this agency, Mr., uhm, Lucius,” asked William, realizing Lucius had not given a last name.
Werewolf Phenomenon: N.A.V.S.A. Series Book Two (The North American Vampire Secret Agency) Page 8
