I could still hear the thumping of a thousand feet on our staircase and decking. Fidgety, I endeavored to put myself together, trying not to be swerved by the horror of what had just happened to my parents.
Oh my God! I can't believe what just happened. The strange werewolves had lynched my parents and shape-shifted back into their human forms. Who are they? What do they want?
From the windowpane of my room, I peeped out, wishing I could fly away. Down below, I saw them—dozens of men in all-black suits, standing by the lustrous black stretch limousines and Escalades. They were armed with nothing, yet the menace around them was thick. I believed those men were shape-shifters too.
"Search the whole fucking house! We must find that virus! Locate his laboratory—it could be there! If we don't find that virus, we are ruined!"
The strange, steel-like voice of the Lord Mayor roared through the corridor.
Fear gripped me, and I struggled to decide what to do. I had to escape, gently and silently as a breeze, or they would kill me and take the virus. I didn't have time to study the bottle in my hand—all I knew was that something green glowed faintly within it. I pocketed the bottle, keeping my trembling hands deep in my pocket to protect it.
I found my school bag, which had only my sketches of werewolves, and quickly secured the green vial inside. If I kept it in my pocket, it could break or spill while I ran for my life.
"Search the whole place!" the Lord Mayor's voice thundered again. "And if you can't find the virus, set the entire building on fire now! If we can't have it, nobody will!"
Lightning cracked. I grabbed my school bag, slung it tightly across my shoulders, and smacked my lips as tears welled up in my eyes. I sniffed, sobbed quietly, and pushed my head through the window, ready to escape.
The window was my safest exit—most of the lights in the compound had been switched off by my father, and the bushy garden below could easily hide me from their sight. Like a mouse, I crept along the walls and ducked behind flowers, overhearing the Lord Mayor's men still barking orders.
I was escaping, yet I didn't know where I was headed. The night was sinking deeper into darkness, and only one destination came to mind—the home of Professor Duncan.
Professor Duncan was our Chemistry Head. He admired my calm personality and my talent for sketching werewolves. He had hosted me for dinner twice and once told me, "Darius, this is your second home. You're welcome anytime."
He was a lonely man, no wife or children even in his late fifties. Still, he was kind—maybe too kind.
Although Julius was my closest friend, it was Duncan who felt like family. The professor lived in the woody suburb downtown, far away from the city lights. It would take sheer determination—and energy I didn't have—to reach his house. But I didn't care anymore. My life was at stake. They had murdered my parents. What was I even living for now? My joy was gone.
Never expose the virus to anyone. Go, son… They're coming to kill us. I want you to know I love you and Mom so much, but I must protect humanity.
Dad's words echoed painfully in my head.
People are wicked. This life has never been fair to me. So, Dad and Mom are gone now—slaughtered by those wolves like vultures devouring fish. I sobbed quietly, wiping my tears as I fidgeted uncontrollably in the chilly wind. My entire body shivered, my teeth chattering. I couldn't think straight anymore.
What a wicked world. Right before my eyes, I had watched my parents being devoured in cold blood by those werewolves like ravenous beasts. Who are these wolves? What do they want?
While I hid beneath the ornamental plants of a neighboring garden, a sudden explosion shook the ground. Boom! Boom! Boom! My heart stopped as I saw flames burst from our home. They had obeyed the Lord Mayor's order to burn everything if they couldn't find the virus.
In seconds, our house was engulfed in fire. My room went up first, followed by my father's laboratory. Tears streamed down my face as I watched everything we had built reduced to ash. I could imagine my sketches of werewolves curling and blackening in the heat.
Soon, I heard car doors slam and engines roar to life. The limousines and Escalades sped away into the night. They were satisfied—mission accomplished.
They killed my parents. They burned down my home. But they never knew Darius was still alive.
With clenched teeth and tears in my eyes, I grabbed my school bag and disappeared into the lonely night.