WELCOME

[ANNE VICTORIA LEVIS]

Twisting and turning unable to sleep,
Do the voices ever stop!?
My thoughts speak louder the more I resist
And I after I remain insane
do they ever go…

Loosing the battle I’ve waged on myself
Lock me up and toss the key!
Toys in the attic,
It’s all getting worse.
Why won’t I let me be!?
Oh God make it stop!

Inside
I’m a danger to myself
Inside
I’m a prisoner of my own hell!

[Note, violence and blood!]

The day was calm and nothing heralded terrible events which were supposed to come soon. The sky was light blue, there were white clouds, from which every now and then the snow has been falling down. Anne watched the falling snow through the window. She was lying comfortably on a large couch in the living room of her friend. The entire room was neat and spacious. Almost all furniture was new. Anne very cared for in every room was almost perfect tidiness. For some time it became her little obsession. Each small step helped her stop thinking. And what she was thinking? Oh well, from the morning the girl felt strange, inner anxiety. As if subconscious gave her know that something bad is going to happen. She tried to ignore that feeling. Watching the falling snow flakes in a small way divert her attention. But, it still was not enough. She fidgeted nervously on the couch, covered with a thick blanket. Sounds of the TV set, tuned to morning news resounded through the room. She rested her head on the pillow, hugging tighter white teddy bear. It was a present from her friend which kept her company more than a month. Her friend, well, he left. He left to settle family matters. He said he will soon return. This 'soon' has already lasted a month. She knew, they always walk away. Every person she knew which, walked away. Her parents, the aunt, her only friend, and Jono. At the mention of his name, Anne squeaked quietly and she covered herself with the blanket. The memory of his brown eyes and a benevolent smile haunted her almost all the time. He somehow reminded her father which she lost when she was a child. If she thought her father, if he lived, perhaps would be only 4 or 5 years older from Jono. Intelligent, educated, courteous, sarcastic. She could tell it about him so far. It was not too much. But, she could tell that something lurked in his brown eyes. Something worrying, dangerous. A dark secret that he tried to hide at all costs.
Anne threw the blanket. Her gaze fell on a wooden violin lying on the glass table. Again alone, always alone. She just wanted to kindly word, a friendly look, a gentle embrace. Was it too much? Life was pretty damn unfair. Swallowed, feeling a slight headache. Slowly rose from the couch. End of these contemplations. The sound of bare feet was heard when Anne walked slowly to the bathroom. She opened the door and walked toward the sink. She was turning water on when it again appeared. Powerful pain, bursting from inside her skull. The pain was so strong that Anne had to grab the sink, to keep from falling. - Stop... Please, stop! STOP! - Her weak voice turned into a scream of pain. In panic rose, awkwardly opened the cabinet with a mirror that served as a first aid kit. Almost blindly pulled out a plastic vial of drugs. Her trembling hands opened the lid. Almost all drugs spilled onto the floor. She picked up handful of painkilling pills, swallowing it down. When pain again grew worse, the girl choked, falling down on the floor. In her mind an image started forming.
Cold, foggy, gloomy night. Full moon. Abandoned building. Rage and blood. Silver. Today! Blood! Danger! Madness! Wolf! Jono!
Then again she shouted, the echo of her shout full of the fear, pain and the panic spread all over the house. Thin, cotton t-shirt began to stick to her sweating body. Her arms and hands were shaking. The pain passed, but there was another kind of pain, worse. Mental pain and madness. Dark visions, hallucinations, which changed her every day in the madhouse into endless nightmare. She was certain that it will end. Blind panic, fear, uncertainty and bewilderment, nerves. Various mixed feelings whirled in her head. - What ... It was ...? Why? What is happening to me! WHAT is happening to me? ANSWER ME! TELL ME! WHY? - - She got up barely off the floor and and shouted with hoarse voice in the direction of her's reflection in a mirror. Her reflection was pale and motionless. Her emerald green eyes stared at her with madness. - TELL ME, YOU STUPID MADWOMAN! WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH YOU? AGAIN YOU ARE LOOSING YOUR MIND?! -Her hoarse voice mixt with hysterical crying. Her breaths were fast and torn off.
Losing her temper, she banged her fist on the mirror. Its pane shattered into small pieces, which badly cut her hands. Sight of blood aroused in her old, unwanted and repressed feelings. Pieces of glass were very sharp, so sharp. It was like a drug. They were so temptingly cold and crisp. Want to feel the cold, right? Do you want to forget ? Quiet voices in her head again sounded. Anne threw herself on the floor, grabbing greedily in the hands of a piece of glass. She tightened the mouth in order to muffle the crying. She held a sharp edge to the skin below the elbow. She pressed harder, feeling like a sharp edge, cuts through the skin perfectly. When the first drops of scarlet blood flowed to her white skin, all the frustration, what was in her, searched for an escape route. - You crazy, stupid girl... You are hopeless... Unnecessary... Nobody cares about you... You will be lonely forever ... - She hissed through clenched teeth. Her hands were now covered with old, pale scars, and the new, bleeding. - Jonathan ... I need you ... Now. - She whispered, stunned with pain and blood. She threw a bloody piece of glass in the corner. She pressed cut hand to the white t-shirt on which bloodstains appeared. Again she rose from the floor, staggering. From the medicine cabinet, took the next phial of medicines out. Sedatives. She pulled out two white table and began to stare at them. This dose of two tablets that should calm her down for some time. And perhaps she will take three tables, or four? Or half a phial? Or entire? Oh, it was irrelevant. Naive, little, mad, frightened girl. Anne closed her eyes and swallowed a handful. She lay on the bathroom floor, waiting.

A few hours later.

Silver full moon. Another cold night come. Anne was still lying on the bathroom floor, her eyes were closed and chest rose slightly. She slowly opened watery eyes. The entire image waved and was smeared. And she felt so weak. Her both hands were covered with scars, scratched and bruised. Her face was deathly-pale again, blue lips, and dark circles under her eyes. Pink hair in the disarray, remains of make-up flowing down the face. Only a small, shiny heart was not blurred. Barely got up off the floor. She felt dizzy and nauseous. Almost like a day when she escaped. She was alive, but she want to live? Before she passed out, she managed to dress wounds with the makeshift dressing. Tore her t-shirt, and wrapped pieces of fabric around her hands. Pieces of fabric soaked with blood, blocking the bleeding. Slowly came to the sink, leaning against him, to keep from falling. Hands, legs, everything shook. Hair stuck to her sweaty face. The dose of medication, which she swallowed was too small to kill her. But it was enough big in order almost to put her to sleep. Large enough to poison her body. She should call for the ambulance, she knew it. Then again she cut herself, almost she took an overdose of medicines. She needed help. - What am I supposed to do? - She whispered in a weak voice. Spun off the tap, soaking her face in the water. She removed the dressing from pieces of material, putting her hands under the water. Her red blood mixed with water. Some wounds already dried, but, some still bled. Everything pinched, so, again, Anne bite her lips, feeling the pain. - God, it hurts. - She croaked. When she rinsed wounds, reached into first aid kit. Clumsily put a dressing on her hands, and wrapped a bandage. Barely gasping for breath, again slipped to the floor. She curled up in a ball. Tears again flowed down her cheeks. There was a darkness in the bathroom, a night had to come.
The one thing I can count on
Is nothing much at all
The one thing that I'm sure about
Is that you won't be anywhere around me when I fall
I'd like to think I wouldn't die for you, but you know I would
'Cause that's the fool I am
And that's the rule you bend
Absent in the end
My fairweather friend.
Anne started quietly singing. Her mother has always done it, when Anne could not fall asleep or she was afraid of the dark. The floor was cold, unpleasant. That's all didn't make sense. Blood, anger, pain. Madness, tears... Jonathan. Anne remembered the fragment of her hallucination. Clearly she saw his brown eyes. But there was something wild, animal in his eyes. Something bad lurked inside. Something what caused shivers, passing after her whole body. Anne raised her head with effort. What does this all mean? What happened to her? Was he threatened by danger? So many questions and no answers. - I can not ... leave him ... - She said quietly and firmly, biting teeth. Slowly, leaning on her hands, she rose from the floor. She tried to ignore the dizziness and nausea. She had to get up. Burning pain. She tried not to think about it. Then again she leaned against the sink, looking at the phial of painkillers. She should not mix medicines up but pain caused, that she was sweating and shaking all. Then again she swallowed a few pills down, choking. She feels like someone poured acid into her stomach. Clenched eyelids. At this point she was so disoriented that she did not know what to do next. Her brain began to play the parts of 'vision', which appeared a few hours ago. Clenched her hands into fists. She recognized this abandoned building. Old, damaged building. Standing alone on the outskirts of the city. She was several times in his surroundings, but she never came in. What are you doing here? She thought, panicked. Painkillers, slowly began to work. She felt like the pain was slowly passing away, and she feels dizzy. - What should I do? What should I do? Anne, focus, focus. - She was confused. But also, didn't have, actually, nothing to lose. Although, may she have something to lose? - And God damn it! It will better that you should be in that damn building, Mr. Gale, otherwise I will kick your ass! - Still going very slowly, all the time leaning against the wall, left the bathroom. Blood started circulating in her veins more quickly. When she was in the corridor, threw off torn and bloodied t-shirt. She sat on the couch, covering her head with hands. She was going to go to this old building, not knowing what there she will find. She put clumsily two, colourful socks, and not tied bovver boots. Her hands trembled more and more. She threw on the underwear large, T-shirt and the Jono black sweater. She tried to do everything cautiously, but she caught badly several times on the dressing. She knew, she had to phone for a taxi.
God, what am I doing ...?

The old, abandoned building with crumbling walls and smashed windows. Hostile, fearful and empty. Inside was a twilight, which was lightening with orange light of a lantern, and the moonlight, coming through the window. Her breath changed into steam, for her the body shivered with chills. The material bag which she carried on the shoulder, hung inertly. - Jonathan, you are here?! I beg you, answer! Jonathan?! - She cried. The echo of her voice was reflected in the empty spaces.
She was alone.
A wild scream tore silence. Anne fell down on her knees. From her throat, tore up the full of fear, panic and helplessness yelling. She started choking, feeling pain in lungs. Girl stuck to the ground. Her bare thighs were dirty from the ground, scratched. She wanted to scream again but had no strength. She was alone in this empty building. Alone, hungry, wounded, weak, insane.
The contents of the bag spilled on the ground. Vial of sedatives, dry bread, a bottle of water, a small silver knife. Her gaze fell on drugs and a knife. She did not want that. She wanted finish this. She stretched the shivering hand out toward the knife, when she heard some noise. Her heart stopped for a moment.

What lurked in the dark?

[JONATHAN GALE]

After two days living under the full moon Jonathan had to acknowledge that he had failed yet again. Nothing he had tried made the wolf inside him any quieter. Werewolves usually remained unaware of their second nature, only the ones that survived beyond a normal human lifetime seemed to share the kind of awareness Jonathan had, the heightened perception and the sense of an internal struggle as each full moon drew near. But the doctor had tried so many rituals and potions and charms and spells over the years... at first it had felt like trying to draw out a poison but now the pull seemed stronger than at first bite, the animal presence brought closer to the surface without being expelled.

It was with a familiar feeling of defeat that Jonathan had eventually retrieved a set of silver shackles and a reinforced steel chain from the trunk of his car. The building he had opted to isolate himself in was on a quiet industrial estate that edged the city where he had encountered Anne. It looked to be an abandoned printworks, stretches of dirty concrete broken up by frozen puddles where the roof had rotted away. The rest of the space was taken up with a maze of mildewed paper stacks and dilapidated crates that no doubt contained more of the same. Several large, rusted machines sat on the farthest side of the floor, endless cogs and conveyor belts that hadn’t budged an inch in years, surrounded by rickety scaffolding to allow access at various points. They looked sturdy enough for what Jonathan had in mind.

By the time the sun had begun to set, Jonathan was finishing his second bottle of whiskey while securing the chain to the old printing press. The alcohol served a dual purpose, to bolster himself against the freezing cold and to try and anesthetise the wolf as the amphetamines in his system wore off and it clawed it’s way into his conscious. There was a folded blanket and a first aid kit set on the floor just beyond the reach of the chain’s length, ready for the aftermath of what was coming. To this he added his shoes, socks and overcoat. Looking through the smashed window above him the freezing fog had diffused the moonlight, blending it with the distant neon of the city, but the gravitational changes gripped him even on the cloudiest nights.

A fierce burst of pain suddenly ripped through his skull. He could feel a shift in his jaw as his teeth began to grow. This isn’t fair! he growled to himself. And why should it be? his other half snarled back, furious with the host’s resistance. The whiskey bottle slipped from his grasp, smashing on the concrete, flooding his sense of smell. He scrabbled to the chains and snapped shut the shackles designed to secure his wrists and ankles. The silver plating burned as if the metal had been held in a fire, but it was a sensation that doctor had grown used to. The final padlock secured the last part of the chain attached to the printing press, looped around his throat like a choke chain for a vicious dog. The keys were hanging from a lever to his left. Once the wolf took over it lacked the rationality to operate a lock and key; as far as Jonathan could tell, it barely had the skill to open an unlocked door. When Jonathan was himself again, freeing himself was, in theory, a simple enough process. The only problem was when the wolf struggled so much that it left Jonathan too badly injured to move afterwards. On several occasions the doctor had woken up to a collection of fresh injuries, had to drag himself up with sprains, fractures, lacerations, haemorrhages and breaks.

Feeling the chain close around his neck, the wolf howled with indignation, the reaction overwhelming Jonathan’s body like a seizure until the inhuman sound forced its way out of his throat. And then all was still. The doctor lay with his cheek pressed to the cold floor, immersed in simply breathing in and out as his claws began to extend. He was burnt out, could feel himself slipping into the sleep that would release the monster.

“Jonathan, you are here?!” The werewolf‘s head twitched. It sounded like Anne. But then why on earth would Anne be there? “I beg you, answer!"

“Must be dreaming.” he muttered to himself. “Silly old man.” The final words had barely left his lips before exhaustion overtook him. Several minutes passed where he did not move, even his breathing became dangerously shallow.

"Jonathan?!”

The wolf’s eyes suddenly snapped open. What had once been a human's brown irises were now an icy canine blue with slitted pupils that darted about, scanning the darkness as it sniffed the air. Jonathan might have thought it a dream but as it learned to filter out the stench of spilt alcohol, the monster became fully aware that it was not alone.

[ANNE VICTORIA LEVIS]

Twisting and turning unable to sleep,
Do the voices ever stop!?
My thoughts speak louder the more I resist
And I after I remain insane
do they ever go…

Loosing the battle I’ve waged on myself
Lock me up and toss the key!
Toys in the attic,
It’s all getting worse.
Why won’t I let me be!?
Oh God make it stop!

Inside
I’m a danger to myself
Inside
I’m a prisoner of my own hell!

Anne's hazy eye observed the billowing fog. Everything was so blurred, indistinct. Air was musty, everywhere she smelt of the mold. It was funny, what unimportant details, her brain was catching. Instead of watching pointless things, should think how to get out of the building. She was so jittery that even she didn't take the phone. Despite the fact that her senses were blunted, she smelt the weak smell of alcohol. Anne raised her head slightly, sniffing. The source of the smell had to be a dozen or so metres from her, hidden in the dark. Swallowed, trying to be silent. She still lay pressed to the floor, with the hand stretched out toward the knife. Her heart began to beat faster and faster. It was certain that she was not alone in this building. She had only two choices, to keep quiet and to escape unnoticed, or to betray her's presence and to go into darkness. The common sense suggested her, escape! As long as you have strength to get out of this building. And ever listened to common sense? She came to the old printwork, in search of a man whom she met two times, just because she had some crazy, paranormal vision. Her fingers clenched on a silver knife. At least she was not completely defenseless. Some strange, quiet feeling told her that she will find there, what she was looking for. Slowly and carefully leaned on her hands, trying fully ignore her bad constitution. Her body began to produce adrenaline, spurring her into action. She stood uncertainly, clutching a knife in her hand. From darkness, before her, reached, kind of, quiet sounds of ringing chains and something like growl. Anne tightened eyes, breathing deeply to calm down. She must be calm and quiet. What was not easy. Ok, I am going. She thought, slowly stepping into the darkness.
She had an unpleasant impression, as if the darkness pressed her from all sides, suffocating her. After a few meters, the darkness was more watery. Stains of the hazy light, dispersed by the icy fog lightened the room up. Her skinny silhouette cast a shadow, and the view she saw before herself, made her whole body frozen. Her pupils widened. First thing noticed was the rusty machinery. Her every particle wanted to scream, cry and run away. What she saw was probably one of the most terrifying sights in her life. Thick, massive, metal chains, chained to the machine. Silver shackles. Icy canine blue irises. Wild, animal, full of desire of the murder. Horrifying fangs and sharp claws. But it was not the worst. The most the fact that this was Jonathan, hurt her. This man which saved her life, and she started slowly falling head over heels in love with him. He was a monster, horrifying, wild beast. Her fingers clenched instinctively harder on the knife. In this moment the wild beast howled, ready to rush to the attack. Anne wanted to scream, throw herself to escape. You must be calm! Don't piss him off! Be resolute! Then again she felt as if her the strange, sixth, subconscious sense told her, what she was supposed to do. - Stop. - She said quietly, but firmly.

[JONATHAN GALE]

With every passing second, the wolf grew stronger. By force of will, aided by the gravitational influence of the full moon, it shifted Jonathan's bones. Jonathan's frame warped almost beyond recognition. The howl it let out into the freezing damp air was equal parts battle cry and yelp of pain at the change. The doctor's legs distorted more than they ever had before, the feet elongating and growing ever nearer to canine digitigrade shapes. The skin on his hands and feet also began to thicken, creating doglike pads on his palms, fingertips and the soles of his feet. His trademark salt and pepper hair thickened all over his body until there were places where his skin was not even visible. He was grotesque, a monster revelling in it's own crimes against nature.

And yet Anne did not run.

The wolf lunged forward, driven by the uncontrollable urge to sink it's claws between the intruder's breasts and rip out her heart. Barely inches from where the girl was stood, the chains locked to it's limbs pulled taught and the loop of silver around its neck chocked the breath from the beast's lungs. It fell back, winded. Just as quickly, it mustered the energy for a second lunge. The rusted machinery holding the wolf back creaked and groaned in protest. Straining until every vain in Jonathan's system was bulging, it finally wrenched it's right paw free, the chain holding but a section of the printing press finally giving way. It reached out it's clawed hand that looked more like a paw, trying to close the tantalizing distance while snarling in frustration.

"Stop."

Something close to surprise passed over the werewolf's face. Like a misbehaved dog hit over the head with a rolled up newspaper, it stopped in sudden shock. Confused and angered by an order it felt compelled to obey, the wolf barked, a series of horrific noises that sounded nothing like Jonathan Gale's true voice.

Unable to attack Anne, the wolf did the only other thing it could think of. It raised it's claws and began to tear at it's own chest in frustration. Fixing the psychic with it's cold blue gaze it tore again and again at the skin over it's own heart until Jonathan's shirt had been reduced to ribbons hanging from his shoulders, soaked in red. The crosshatch pattern dripped onto the floor, blood drops scattering in a wider arc as it struggled, spattering Anne and mixing with the dirt and spilt whiskey beneath it's monstrous feet.

[ANNE VICTORIA LEVIS]

Twisting and turning unable to sleep,
Do the voices ever stop!?
My thoughts speak louder the more I resist
And I after I remain insane
do they ever go…

Loosing the battle I’ve waged on myself
Lock me up and toss the key!
Toys in the attic,
It’s all getting worse.
Why won’t I let me be!?
Oh God make it stop!

Inside
I’m a danger to myself
Inside
I’m a prisoner of my own hell!

She was damn scared, she did not believe what she saw. But the beast, chained before her, was very real. - Don't struggle! Just... Stop.! - Her voice was a bit louder. She tried to control the nausea. She was getting colder, and she was becoming increasingly frightened. The beast looked at her, growling. Bared teeth, seeing the silver knife. Anne went back. These chains appeared to be strong to keep the beast. But, if he started attacking what the girl didn't want, Jono could be wounded. What are you? What are you? Wolf, silver ... Full moon ...Not impossible ...What am I? So many questions in her mind. Beast obeyed her order, but in this moment he started doing something else. His sharp claws, began to tear his shirt as if he wanted to scrape his heart. Anne pressed a hand to mouth, stifling a tears. - For God's sake, stop it, damn, stop it! You are hurting yourself! - Her horrified voice sounded in an empty room. Her gaze fell on patches of blood, mixing with alcohol. She remembered how her drops of blood fell on the tiles in the bathroom. - - Stop! Don't do this to me! I am begging... Stop... You are supposed to listen to me! You are supposed to listen my every word! - She literally screamed with anger and frustration. - If you want to kill yourself, go ahead! But, not with me, not now! Not after I almost wanted to kill myself in the bathroom! You freaking monster! You will listen me! You are supposed to be sitting motionless! - Everything in the heavens and the earth, showed that she had before herself werewolf. Yes, fairies are one thing, but a werewolf?! Angrily she kicked the wall. She had to control pain, cold, fear and the furious wild beast. Was it not too much for a emotionally destabilized girl? Frowning, looked at the first aid kit. - Tomorrow I must patch you up. I myself, as well... Oh God ... - Her eyes again fell on the red bloodstains which slowly were growing. Feeling the attack of the weakness she put her back against the wall and she slowly squatted down on the floor. Pulled up her knees under her chin and embraced with hands. - Let it end, let it end... End, end... I am begging... End... - She stammered out, with eyes full of tears. She began to sway forward and backward. Why me? Why me? - WHY ALWAYS ME?! - Anne screamed again, making the beast snarled. - Oh please, shut up. - Anne dared to look into the eyes of the beast. Her green, horrified eyes and his, wild, blue. Anne wiped her face and on her hands appeared drops of blood. His blood. - - Oh, no, no, you still bleed ... Oh, mother ... Anne ... Focus ... Focus ... Okay, what they would do in 'Grey's Anatomy'? - She got up from the floor, being based with hand against the wall. Her gaze fell on a blanket folded next to Jono and and first-aid kit. If she want to survive the night and and help him, has to warm up. - Now, I will do something insanely stupid ... - She walked away from the machine. The whole time she stared at monster. - Easy... Easy... - With tightened throat, as quietly as possible and the most carefully, pulled out, trembling, and sweaty, hand toward the blanket and first-aid kit. Werewolf snorted, but did not move. Anne pulled a blanket and first-aid kit and quickly bounced back. Threw a blanket over herself and opened the first aid kit. She began to rummage in it, throwing unnecessary things on the floor. She pulled out gauze bandages and sat a few meters away from the werewolf.
- I must press it, in order to stop the bleeding, you understand? Surely you do not understand ... Be a good boy, and let me help you... You will sit still and don't kill me? - In her voice a panic sounded. To be torn apart by the werewolf, not very nice proposal. But the sight of blood. She could not stand it. - I hope when you wake up, you'll appreciate what I've done for you ... You nutcase monster... But when you will wake up, I will kick your ass, I swear... - Now she had to bring fear under control and wait until it all ends, wait for the first rays of the sun.

[JONATHAN GALE]

“For God's sake, stop it, damn, stop it! You are hurting yourself!”

The werewolf’s roar drowned out the sound of fabric tearing, and the sound of Anne‘s voice. Sharp claws wrenched across Jonathan’s heart. The sight and scent of the strange intruder filled its senses. As Anne drew closer it wrenched again at the shackles still chaining the doctor to the old printing press. The chain around its neck pulled stronger in response, the silver plating burning the creature’s throat.

“Stop! Don't do this to me! I am begging... Stop... You are supposed to listen to me! You are supposed to listen my every word!”

The wolf barked at her like a rabid junkyard dog, filling the cold air with the piercing sound of its rage. Parts of it’s body were still shifting, distorting and growing.

“If you want to kill yourself, go ahead! But, not with me, not now! Not after I almost wanted to kill myself in the bathroom! You freaking monster! You will listen me! You are supposed to be sitting motionless!” Angrily she kicked the wall.

As if trying to mimic her, the wolf reared up briefly on its hind legs and took a couple of heavy swipes at the machine it was tethered to. The first swipe was accompanied by the screech of claw on metal, leaving four shallow gashes on a part of the metal panelling. On the second swipe its claws caught on part of the conveyor belt, tearing through the material.

“Tomorrow I must patch you up. I myself, as well... Oh God…”

Finally, the combined effect of drugs and alcohol Jonathan had forced down began to have the desired effect. The wolf stained against it’s bonds but its energy was leaching away, the threat of suffocation from the choker forced it to shuffle back, letting the chain around its neck grow slack again.

Anne slowly squatted down on the floor. Pulled up her knees under her chin and embraced with hands. “Let it end, let it end... End, end... I am begging... End…” She stammered out, with eyes full of tears. She began to sway forward and backward. “Why me? Why me? WHY ALWAYS ME?!” Anne screamed again.

The wolf snarled at the louder noise but on some level it had begun to understand her words. Just as had happened with the doctor, understanding brought with it the inexplicable urge to obey.

“Oh please, shut up.”

The wolf fell silent. Settling into a less aggressive position, the blood from Jonathan’s chest wound dribbled slowly down the contours of his exposed torso, the shirt barely hanging from his forearms. Canine eyes flickered over the girl’s crouched form and it sniffed the air, taking in every nuance of her scent that could be filtered and separated from the stenches of the old warehouse.

Anne wiped her face and on her hands appeared drops of blood. His blood. “Oh, no, no, you still bleed ... Oh, mother ... Anne ... Focus ... Focus ... Okay, what they would do in 'Grey's Anatomy'?”

Jonathan’s warped body rose back to a striking posture as Anne pushed herself back onto her feet.

“Now, I will do something insanely stupid…” She walked away from the machine. The whole time she stared at monster. “Easy... Easy…”

The werewolf snorted, but did not move. Anne pulled Jonathan’s supplies over to her and then quickly bounced back to the wall again.

Anne threw a blanket over herself and opened the first-aid kit. She began to rummage in it, throwing unnecessary things on the floor. She pulled out gauze bandages and sat a few meters away from the werewolf.

As she reached out the wolf bared its teeth, suspicious of what she intended to do and where she had stored her silver knife.

“I must press it, in order to stop the bleeding, you understand? Surely you do not understand…

A short, sharp warning bark echoed as Anne approached. The wolf’s lips curled back even further, sharp teeth ready to strike. A deep growl reverberated between the two figures, clouds of breath billowing up to form a sinister halo caught in the moonlight.

"Be a good boy, and let me help you…

Her words burned the wolf's will like silver, a demonic power neither of them understood wrapping around the creature’s primitive mind and cutting off its growled protests. It reared back onto it’s hind legs as best it could, letting Anne come in close.

"You will sit still and don't kill me?”

It dipped its head, sniffing at her neck as if in promise to obey. Anne’s hands were shaking as they bandaged Jonathan’s wounds as best she could. Whenever the pressure caught a particularly raw nerve the wolf let out an annoyed snarl but did not bite.

“I hope when you wake up, you'll appreciate what I've done for you…

The wolf sank his nose closer to Anne’s skin, taking in the trace scent of drying blood on her arms and a cocktail of chemicals running through her system. It was used to dealing with the similar mixes Jonathan downed in the hopes of keeping it from taking over, and the monster recognised instantly that for a normal human to be that dosed up was dangerous. Its distorted features attempted to frown.

"You nutcase monster... But when you will wake up, I will kick your ass, I swear…”

It watched the girl back away, missing the warmth her body had provided. Fear was overtaken by medically induced sleep as she sank onto the concrete, Jonathan’s blanket wrapped around her. A brief flash sprung to the creature’s mind, the image of this girl sat in a car, wrapped in a blanket while she shivered and spoke of another kind of predator. The wolf lurched forward, a sudden instinctive need overtaking it. The werewolf wanted to mark and own the girl somehow, claw at her skin, rip her heart from her chest to devour and claim as its own. Anne’s features creased, the sound of the beast’s rage reaching her even in unconsciousness. The chains held and eventually the wolf had to submit to exhaustion. In defeat it let out a long mournful howl. Finally it turned in an awkward circle and laid down, keeping the girl in its eye line.

Jonathan woke to the feel of damp concrete on his exposed skin. The first thing he saw was Anne’s motionless body, outlined by the light of dawn through dirty broken windows. The pink hair was unmistakable. So was the scent of blood. His heart leapt into his throat at the sight but as he struggled woozily to his knees he gasped at the feel of broken skin on his chest shifting and parting in ways in shouldn’t.

“Ow…” was all he could manage weakly, his mouth dry from the racket the wolf had made during the night and his throat bruised from the restraints . It took him a moment to absorb the fact that his clothes were shredded and bloody, the kind of damage he’d seen a hundred times before. And yet someone had applied bandages that remained intact throughout the night… a feat not even his sister had accomplished in her attempts to help with ‘the change’. He glanced back to Anne. Although she seemed unnaturally pale and still, she didn’t look like she’d been mauled by a werewolf. Frantically he searched for the key to his shackles and untangled himself from his chains. The silver plating left shallow burns on his wrists and ankles, and he could feel a nasty bruise developing where the choke chain had gripped his neck. The damage was usually only this severe when the wolf struggled, no doubt because of the girl’s presence on this occasion. The doctor’s mind boggled, trying to work out how she’d come to be in a near-dead industrial estate, in the very dilapidated factory he’d picked specifically because even the local homeless and junkies seemed to shun it.

“Anne?” His half-crushed vocal cords couldn’t manage more than that. He was shaking, both from the cold and from fear as he approached, dropping to his knees beside her. As gently as he could Jonathan pressed two fingers to her neck, checking for a pulse. When he felt a bird-like flutter stir under her skin he all but swooned with relief. He rested a hand on her shoulder and gently tried to wake her. “Anne?” He coughed. “Anne?!”

[ANNE VICTORIA LEVIS]

Twisting and turning unable to sleep,
Do the voices ever stop!?
My thoughts speak louder the more I resist
And I after I remain insane
do they ever go…

Loosing the battle I’ve waged on myself
Lock me up and toss the key!
Toys in the attic,
It’s all getting worse.
Why won’t I let me be!?
Oh God make it stop!

Inside
I’m a danger to myself
Inside
I’m a prisoner of my own hell!

[vulgar words!]

When Anne barely opened eyelids, her pupils have shrunk dramatically under the influence of light. Although the light was dim, for her seemed unnaturally bright, and so much intense that looking at it give her pain. Again pressed her eyelids, defending herself against the light. At the beginning a feeble moan got out of her mouth. After a moment she opened her mouth, trying to pick air up. She did it in panic and hurriedly, choking with air. She started violently coughing, when she felt that somebody was touching her neck. Violently opened her eyes, waving her hands awkwardly, hitting intruder and trying to push away. When her wounded hands hit the intruder, a faint and hoarse cry of pain got out of her throat. She began to shake, when a tide of pain and colds went through her body. Her blurred gaze fell on Jono face, kneeling beside her. Through her pale face flashed a grimace. Her eyes fell on the bandages, and again at his face. She began to blink still feeling the remains of of sleep. Barely lifted her head, moving her lips as if she wanted say something. - Hey. - It was the only quiet word that she said. Again laid her head on the cold concrete. She feels like her heart was beating slower than usual, and her body reminded an icicle. She was frozen. Jonathan also shook with cold, having only shreds stained with blood of his shirt on himself. Anne raised her head again, and clenching teeth, and literally with tears of pain in her eyes, leaning on trembling hands rose to a sitting position. She pulled the blanket and threw it on Jono. Her shivers became stronger, and in her eyes appeared something strange. She pulled one of her skinny hands in his direction, laying on his cheek. Her pads gently stroked his cold cheek. After a moment and completely unexpectedly, Anne hit him firmly on the cheek, leaving a red mark. Her features grimaced with pure rage. Her green eyes stared at him with wild anger. - Werewolf! - She shouted this one word out into his face. She moved away from him, pushing him. - You are damn monster, bloody beast! Stay away from me! - Her voice was still weak, but was also full of anger and rage. Anger acted as adrenaline driving her into action. Anne rose suddenly from concrete, but it was a bad idea, when after a while, feeling dizzy, fell down on concrete, painfully ripping the skin off her knees. - Don't help me! Don't touch me! - She curled up in the semi-darkness, her frail body was trembling, her pale face was dirty, his black sweater covered with caked bloodstains. She started swinging back and forth. At the moment, she looked just like a demented madwoman that he met two months ago. - Why? How? Why is this happening to me? What is happening to me? TELL ME! - Her anger turned into a wild cry and fear. Her eyes filled with tears again, dripping profusely down her cheeks. - How is this possible? I saw you ... Headache ... Moon ... I saw you before this happened ... That's impossible ... How ...? Why ... What is wrong with me? Jono, I going crazy .... I am crazy ... Just madwoman ... - Abandoned building, filled her desperate and hysterical laugh. You're just pathetic. In her head again a quiet and mean voice sounded. - I am pathetic ... Stupid, hopelessness insane girl ... Simply pathetic ... I can not even kill myself ... - Again she began to laugh. Bandages, which previously dressed her wounds, fell onto the concrete. Now the man could see cuts covering both her hands. She pressed both hands to herself, tightening eyelids. Laugh died down. She began to sob again. She did it so intensely that she barely gasped. Her breaths were shallow and cut off, as if something choke her. - For two fucking days I was thinking only about you. Your damn smile ... And you think you can just leave me like everybody! Sure, who cares about the crazy girl?! Nobody! I'm not a doll, which you can break and throw away! I also have emotions, whether nobody can see it?! No, play with me and throw in the trash. You know how I feel? Like trash, useless piece of junk that you can mishandle and leave alone. Just rape me and dupe with drugs. Yes, doctors will help me! See what they did with me! A bundle of broken nerves! But, no! I am completely healthy! I don't want to kill myself! I am not cutting myself! Get out and leave me alone. Oh irony! Where were you when I needed you?! Of course, you do not know me, do not worry about me! I do not care that you're some insane monster! I do not know anything about the real monsters, but my monsters living in my head are real! You can not make people start feeling something for you and then leave them without a word. You can not ... Do not leave me, please. I do not have anyone, please, Jonathan, help me. Help. - Her monologue was over. Her face was entire in red stains, eyes puffy from crying, knees dirty and scraped off, hands covered with caking blood. Picture of misery and despair. Stumbling come out of the shadow, squatting beside him. Very slowly rested her head on his chest, doing it gently. She lifted her eyes, staring at him and cuddling like a little girl. -Cold, very cold. - She whispered, without emotion.

[JONATHAN GALE]

[OOC: Ann stop writing crazy long posts - I keep writing crazy long replies!!!]


”Hey.” Jonathan was overwhelmed with relief when Anne muttered that single word. She was alive, and didn’t seem terrified.

“Hey yourself.” He smiled back.

As she took the blanket from her shoulders and threw it over the doctor, he let himself fantasise that she had not encountered his animal alter-ego, had found him asleep and a man once more. The thick woollen cloth was still warm and smelt faintly of her.

“What are you doing here?”

She didn’t answer, and Jonathan didn’t force the issue. In that moment it seemed natural to simply add it to the pink-haired walking stack of mysteries that was Anne Levis. Her shivers became stronger, and in her eyes appeared something strange. She pulled one of her skinny hands in his direction, laying it on his cheek, fingertips gently stroking his cold cheek. Jonathan shifted the blanket so that it was draped over both their shoulders and pressed closer to her. In his conscious mind it was merely the urge to seek warmth, to share it with Anne who was just as cold. The wolf still had memories of the night before. It remembered the feeling of wanting to be closer so it could pin her down and tear delicious red streaks into her near-white skin.

Jonathan felt Anne flinch but didn’t understand why. “This may be a stupid question but… Are…are you okay…?”

The wolf growled as she pulled away but it was a protest Jonathan thought only he had the misfortune to hear. Its inner-snarl was cut short by a sudden & utterly unexpected punch to the face. Anne had the kind of strength normally reserved for wounded animals forced to face their hunters. When his eyes regained their limited focus he could see she was livid.

“Werewolf!” she spat out the word like the insult it was, pushing him clear away. “You are a damn monster, bloody beast!”

“Anne, what’re you-” The roar in the back of his head was growing.

“Stay away from me!” She managed to cut him off even though her own voice was still shaky. Anne rose suddenly from concrete, but it was a bad idea, when after a while, feeling dizzy, she fell down on the concrete, ripping the skin off her knees.

Jonathan automatically went to help her but she thrashed her arms, keeping him from touching her. “Don't help me! Don't touch me!” Once he had backed off a sufficient distance she curled in on herself, her frail body trembling. Jonathan remembered how he’d first met Anne, coiled up like that in the middle of a forest, a fugitive fresh from the assault of a corrupt care system.

A sudden snarl erupted, uncontrolled, from the doctor’s throat. He clapped a hand over his mouth and his eyes bulged with fear. His body should have come back under control with setting of the sun. The wolf’s mental presence had evolved with every new ritual and potion but this beastly Tourette's Syndrome was only supposed to happen on the verge of a change, not after it. The barking in his head grew louder and louder but it was Anne who pressed her hands to her head.

“Why? How? Why is this happening to me? What is happening to me? TELL ME!” Her anger turned into a wild cry and fear. “How is this possible? I saw you... Headache... Moon... I saw you before this happened... That's impossible... How...? Why... What is wrong with me? Jono, I’m going crazy.... I am crazy... Just a madwoman...”

Still choking on animalistic noises, Jonathan found his coat and pulled it around him, then returned to Anne and draped the blanket back over her as best he could before dropping to his knees beside her.

“I am pathetic... Stupid, hopeless insane girl... Simply pathetic... I can not even kill myself...” It wasn’t her words that scared him so much as the laughter that followed. Anne had pushed up her sleeves and was letting the bandages on her arms unravel to the floor. For the first time Jonathan realised his was not the only bloodscent in the air. He wanted to reach out but didn’t dare as she began to sob again.

“For two fucking days I was thinking only about you. Your damn smile... And you think you can just leave me like everybody!

“Anne, I’m sorry I left you in that motel but we were complete strangers, and you were in such a state… I couldn’t risk you getting involved with this… with my curse.” One hand rested on the bandages covering his heart, the other gestured to the printing press where the recent addition of reinforced chains still glinted in the dawn light. “You were better off with other people.”

“Sure, who cares about the crazy girl?! Nobody! I'm not a doll, which you can break and throw away! I also have emotions, whether nobody can see it?! No, play with me and throw in the trash. You know how I feel? Like trash, useless piece of junk that you can mishandle and leave alone. Just rape me and dupe me with drugs. Yes, doctors will help me! See what they did with me! A bundle of broken nerves! But, no! I am completely healthy! I don't want to kill myself! I am not cutting myself!”

Jonathan could only stare sadly at the girl. From what he understood, her rant was about the betrayal of others long before she had ever met him; but her anger at him, the monstrosity he was, came through clear enough to leave him with a hard knot in his throat. Maybe he hadn’t clawed at her during the night but he couldn’t help but think of the gashes on her arms as his fault. “Anne, I’m sorry but…” The blanket he had tried to drape over her shoulders was crumpled on the concrete. He risked trying to lift it back onto her.

“Get out and leave me alone.”

“Fine!” he growled, the wolf getting the better of him in his guilt-ridden state. He hadn’t wanted to leave but Anne’s voice still possessed a unique quality that made him want to follow every command she issued. “I was only trying to help… Do you really want me to leave you like this?”

“Oh irony! Where were you when I needed you?! Of course, you do not know me, do not worry about me!”

“Ditto!” Jonathan echoed as he stepped back. His gut clenched tight enough to turn his last dinner into a lump of coal. “I’m sorry if my body tearing itself up under the full moon interrupted your little kamikaze midnight stroll through an industrial estate.” Although Jonathan didn’t know it, his pupils were starting to shrink back into lupine slits.

“I do not care that you're some insane monster! I do not know anything about the real monsters, but my monsters living in my head are real! You can not make people start feeling something for you and then leave them without a word. You can not...”

Feel something. Feel what though? He didn’t dare ask, instead standing motionless as a statue. The gentle rise of his warm breath visible in the cold air was the only sign of life in an awkward pause.

“Don’t leave me, please. I do not have anyone, please, Jonathan, help me. Help.”

He still didn’t dare say anything, not trusting his animal side to stay silent, perhaps wary of Anne changing her mind too. Instead he walked slowly up to Anne’s huddled figure on the floor and sat next to her.Very slowly she rested her head on his chest, doing it gently. She lifted her eyes, staring at him and cuddling like a little girl.

Jonathan grimaced briefly at the weight against the injuries on his chest but it was worth it to ease the guilt still solid as a rock in his stomach. “Feeling better for that?”

“Cold, very cold.” She whispered, without emotion.

“You and me both, moppet.”

Through an instinct bourne of exhaustion, Jonathan let his head rest on hers, the bottom of his vision filled with the pink froth of bleached, dyed hair. It still smelt of the spicy sweet shampoo he’d caught on the breeze back when she was playing music in the street. He found himself half remembering a childhood in the Cambridge countryside, dusky summer evenings that were the opposite of the icy daybreak he & Anne were currently sat in. Back then he and his sister would sit in abandoned houses or out-of-hours building sites and read Lewis Carroll. Jonathan had loved it, especially the parts with the Cheshire Cat. Anne’s pink hair reminded him of that strange creature.

***

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."
"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.
"You must be," said the Cat, "otherwise you wouldn't have come here."
Alice didn't think that proved it at all: however she went on. "And how do you know that you're mad?"
"To begin with," said the Cat, "a dog's not mad. You grant that?"
"I suppose so," said Alice
"Well, then," the Cat went on, "You see a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now [i]I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad."
"I call it purring, not growling," said Alice.
"Call it what you like," said the Cat…[/i]

***

His pupils shrank back to a normal round shape. ”Purring, not growling”, the doctor mumbled to himself and a weary smile tugged at the corner of his lips. An idea was blossoming.

“Anne?” He nudged the girl gently as she seemed to be falling asleep again. “Anne, I have a friend in Massachusetts who I think you should meet. These strange things you’re seeing and hearing… She deals with… special cases where it has nothing to do with going mad… She might be able to help you. I could take you there if you like.”

[ANNE VICTORIA LEVIS]

Twisting and turning unable to sleep,
Do the voices ever stop!?
My thoughts speak louder the more I resist
And I after I remain insane
do they ever go…

Loosing the battle I’ve waged on myself
Lock me up and toss the key!
Toys in the attic,
It’s all getting worse.
Why won’t I let me be!?
Oh God make it stop!

Inside
I’m a danger to myself
Inside
I’m a prisoner of my own hell!

Anne eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. Brief warmth again brought drowsiness. She closed her eyes, slowly sinking in a stupor, which overwhelmed her body. At this moment she felt like an icicle.
-Cold, very cold ... - Then again she started muttering. With every passing moment, she had an impression that air was getting colder and colder. With great effort, forced herself to open her eyes again. Her blurred gaze fell on Jono's face again. His brown eyes, slowly became lupine slits again. - Your ... Your eyes ... Wolfish ... - Whispered slightly scared. Covered her eyes with hands, squealing quietly from pain.
- I am sorry ... Sorry... I did not want to make this all happened... It's all beyond me. I could stay at home, rather than play the hero. I'm not a kamikaze... Only, sometimes voices in my head are extremely convincing. - A woman uncovered her eyes and looked around the abandoned space. Instead of sitting on the concrete floor, frozen to the bone, all she wanted was a cup of hot tea and a warm blanket. When Jono rested his head on her head, Anne calmed down a bit. She had to rethink so many things, it all was so strange and difficult.
- Jonathan... - She whispered, thinking of something. - Well... So... That's all ... This is true ... That... Werewolf. God. It's so ... Difficult ... To understand. - Indeed, it was hard for her to believe, what she saw. But, it was real. And difficult to accept. - Can I ... May I ask ... How, you know ... Well, when it happened ... How did you become an ... Werewolf? I don't want to be insistent. - In her weak and trembling voice was uncertainty and some embarrassment. She did not want to ask too many questions but in her mind was still huge mess. She found his cold hand and squeezed it gently. Best solution would be to leave this building before they both will freeze to death. Jonathan was also exhausted as she was. Spending entire night on huge cold, blood loss and overdose of sedatives caused that Anne was extremely exhausted.
- What ... Friend? She can help me...? How...? You are saying, that...This is not related to my madness? In that case, how is this possible? I know that I'm crazy, but this is even more bizarre... Really, someone can help me? You know that ... I have a negative experience in this field. - She sighed. Anne trusted him, of course. There was no doubt that she needs help. And he offered her help. But, this decision, well, was quite serious for her. But, in fact, here, nothing waited for Anna. She was slowly losing trust in her old friend. She can drop everything and get into his car, not caring about anything, and just go.
- Fuck, I'm going with you ... But with one condition ... I trust you, but you have to clean up a bit in your car. Then, I am getting on. And, I will not launder your clothes, when we will in the motel. - For the first time on her livid lips appeared a shadow of a smile. Again, she looked around after an abandoned building. Everything was spinning and waving. Or, maybe it only seemed to her. It was like slowly losing touch with reality. She let go his hand. Slowly slipped to cold, concrete floor. She had no strength for something more.
- I am suggesting that we should leave this building before we will freeze to death. Which may be a bit difficult, because I almost don't feel my legs. A visit in the hospital also would be a good idea. But, we can't go there. What shall we say? Werewolf attacked me? God ... It's so ... I do not know. - She mumbled sleepily, gazing at the spinning dust in the icy air. If only it was that simple. Jono probably had a car parked nearby. They must only get into this car.
- Sweetie, when we will survive, I am inviting you to a cup of hot tea. We can stay in my temporary home until we will feel better. Probably, I look like crap. You too darling, you don't look best... Mother, right away I will faint... Never mind, I need a hot bath and a warm, woolen socks. Och, darling, I probably invented nickname for you, Uncle Lupin from Remus Lupin, you know, that one from Harry Potter... You see, once again I talking nonsenses... I want just go away from here. - She mumbled drowsily and again, she tried to smile.