Curse of Silver Chapter 2

Happy Friday Readers,

The next chapter of my short story is now available. Enjoy.

Chapter 2

“How did this happen?”

Greg didn’t know how to explain his strange predicament to his hyperventilating mother.

“A mangy mutt bit me mom. That’s all.” He confessed. Unsure as to what attacked him. He assumed it was a wolf but he’s never seen one act like that. It attacked and ran.

Why did it attack in the first place?

Still, as his mother wiped the wound with alcohol, he couldn’t reach a feasible answer. Just bad luck.

“Were you swimming in meat or something?” She said reaching for bandages in her first aid kit.

Greg raised a brow to the strange accusation.

When their gazes met, she shook her head.

“Okay, but it didn’t just attack you for no reason, Greg. You must have provoked it.”

“I’m telling you, mom. I was just walking home, it appeared from the woods, took a sample, and rushed home. Leaving me crying home to my mother.”

She carefully finished wrapping his arm and stood with her hands on her hips.

“Just be careful okay. Do you need me to pick you up from no..”

“No!” He shouted.

“I mean. No thanks, I’m fine.” He sighed, “I just got distracted. That’s all.”

Seeing that her son lost interest in the conversation, she led the way from the bathroom.

“Alright. Just don’t say I didn’t offer.”

Once she was gone, Greg came to his feet. Stumbling to the sink, he looked into his shapeless eyes.

If the eyes were windows into the soul, what would his say? A lonely loser with no friends and a tormentor the size of Goliath.

What a fantastic life to live.

“Hope this doesn’t get infected.”

Dinner was humdrum as Greg tried to avoid the subject of school or the wolf. Both made his head throb harshly.

He managed to avoid any heavy topics but he looked to the people around him. His sister Shane was one of a kind. A chip off the other mother block.

Their mom Traci was a green thumb scientist. A botanist by any other name. She grew up, researched and taught future scientist at the local college. The only reason they lived in that town.

However, the head of the table was vacant again.

Jack, his father, was at the office working late again. Being the head of an accounting firm had to be difficult but, to Greg at least, not so hard that you need to forsake your family.

That one reason he dived head first into games.

His father didn’t stop him.

After dinner, Greg quickly retreated to his room. Feeling uneasy all of the sudden. Walking through his bedroom, the crimson painted walls were decorated with an array of fantastic posters and memorabilia.

From space adventure games to the retro classics, he prided himself on everything virtual.

Still, no game could help digest the incident that plagued him still.

“Why does this happen to me?” He sighed sitting on the edge of his bed.

Rubbing his bandaged arm, he shut his eyes and leaned slowly back. Feeling his back meet the soft material of his mattress.

The room grew dark as he closed his eyes.

GROWLLL

“Keep away!”

Greg yelled as he pushed himself up from his covers. His eyes darted across his room. From corner to corner. His heart pounding with each second.

‘It was…just a dream.’ He convinced himself.

Running his arm across his sweating forehead, he relaxed his overly tensed body.

Placing his back against the bed board, he traced the moonlight stretching to his wall.

‘Man, did mom turn on the heat again?’

Removing himself from the covers, he ventured to the bathroom. Creeping down the hallways and resisting the urge to scratch his face.

‘Darn acne.’

Reaching the bathroom, he quickly relieved himself and, staring at the rippling water, felt off. Something wasn’t right.

‘Maybe this bite is infected.’

Huffing, he walked to the sink and washed his irritated facial pores.

‘Man, that feels so m… wait, what is this?’

Feeling along his chin, he felt a gathering of obscure hair. Lifting his face to the mirror, he wiped away the mist.

He jumped back as the face looking back was unfamiliar.

Strange.

Hairy.

His lip quivered as his once blue eyes were now yellow, his face decorated by dark brown hair, rough wrinkles carved out his features, and black sharp nails along his fingers.

‘I need to see a doctor.’

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