Kimberly's alarm clock shrieked at 6:00 AM, but the disciplined routine she had tried to cultivate vanished in an instant. She snoozed the device once, then again, sinking back into a heavy, feverish slumber. By 7:00 AM, she finally surrendered to the malaise and dialed the zoo.
"Hello," a voice answered.
"Hey Chris, can you let Kellen know that I am not coming in today? I am not feeling the best. I am dealing with a massive headache right now," Kimberly said, her own voice sounding distant to her ears.
"Alright, I will let the boss know," Chris replied.
The moment the call ended, Kimberly collapsed back into the pillows. The headache was only the beginning; as she slept, her body was ravaged by a parched, dry mouth and violent chills that seemed to vibrate in her marrow. She finally drifted into a deeper, restless sleep until 11:00 AM.
When she eventually stumbled into the bathroom, her first instinct was to check her right wrist. The small black veins were still there, stark against her skin. She stared at them, her mind grasping for a logical explanation. "Maybe it is just a reaction to the rabies shot," she whispered, though the explanation felt hollow.
After taking her pain medication, Kimberly descended the stairs, driven by a sudden, primal urgency. "I want something to eat. I am hungry," she muttered to the empty house. Her breathing grew heavy and ragged as she tore open the freezer door. She scanned the frozen contents with frantic eyes before slamming the door shut in a fit of frustration.
A strange trance took hold of her. Kimberly began pacing the living room, her eyes darting to odd places—the cushions of the couch, the underside of the coffee table—as if she expected to find sustenance hidden in the furniture. "I want meat. I want meat," she chanted, her pace quickening.
The trance snapped as quickly as it had arrived. Shaken, she grabbed her keys and drove toward the supermarket. As she traveled down Highway 51, the world became unbearably loud. Conversations from neighboring vehicles flooded her cabin as if the windows didn't exist. She heard a parent in the lane to her left debating punishments for a child's poor grades; in the car behind her, she clearly heard a man discussing divorce proceedings with his lawyer. The sensory evolution was accelerating, a cacophony of human drama she wasn't meant to hear.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
At the supermarket, her behavior was no less singular. She reached the checkout counter with a cart piled high with eighteen packages of various meats.
"Are you having a party?" the cashier asked with a curious smile.
"No," Kimberly replied, her voice flat. "I am just hungry. I have been craving meat since I woke up this morning".
"Gotcha. Here is your total," the cashier said, moving the items through.
Kimberly paid and hurried home to prepare a massive dinner. By the time Dale walked through the front door, the apartment was filled with the scent of seared steak and shrimp.
"Yo, why did you buy so much meat?" Dale asked, stopping short at the sight of the spread.
"Because I am hungry," Kimberly said, already halfway through a steak. "I have been craving this since I woke up".
"But I thought you were sick?"
"I was, until I woke up the second time around eleven. I feel great now," Kimberly said, devouring her meal with a ferocity that made Dale recoil. "Baby, this is so good".
Dale watched in baffled silence as she polished off three full servings of steak, shrimp, and mashed potatoes. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
"I am fine, honey. Stop being shy and grab something to eat," Kimberly urged him.
"I will, but this is not good for your weight," Dale remarked, unable to help himself.
Kimberly didn't flinch this time. "I do not care. I feel great right now". The Gray Wolf had found its vessel, and Kimberly had just provided the fuel it required.
Across town at the Bayou Mounds Zoo, a different kind of silence had fallen over the timber wolf exhibit. The staff had gathered to process a sudden loss: Bo was dead. The gray wolf had been found lifeless in his enclosure that morning.
"I just do not get it," Kellen Harris said, looking through the observation glass. "He just gets sick and dies overnight, yet the other wolves in the enclosure are perfectly fine".
"Yeah, I have never seen anything quite like it," Paula added. "He snaps and bites Kimberly, and then dies a few days later. Something is not adding up". They remained unaware that while Bo's body had perished, his essence was already manifesting elsewhere.
Later that night, Sheryl sat in her living room with her cousin, Karen. They had shared a quiet dinner and were winding down with the television flickering in the background.
"So, how is life outside of the ER?" Karen asked, glancing at her cousin.
"It is not too bad. I like the change," Sheryl replied.
"Are you sure?" Karen pressed. "You do not sound very confident about it. I know you, Sherry. You are not fooling me".
Sheryl exhaled a long, weary breath. "I am trying my best to make it work, Karen. We haven't had anything crazy happen lately, so that is a blessing".
She wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe that the predator inside her could stay quiet in the calm of a cardiology ward. But regardless of her efforts to manage her condition, the chaos of the Lycan world was already circling back toward her.
