Romance Is For The Outcasts
Ezra was out for his nightly walk. All was quiet in the barren forest until he heard a sharp cry that pierced the night. He thought at first that a wolf made that noise. His photographic memory kicked in, the geography book on the forest regions in Maine that he read appeared in his mind, and he realized there aren’t any wolves in this forest.
He sprinted off, leaping the trees and stones like an acrobat until he came into the clearing. A bloodied werewolf was on the ground, where it let out another cry. Surrounding the werewolf were other werewolves; crouched, growling and ready to pounce. One was large, fur the color of ash, another had fur the color of tree bark and the last had red fur. Despite all three of them being equal size, Ezra knew couldn’t fight them himself. So he did the next best thing; created a diversion.
The vampire shook the bushes nearby. All three mutts jerked their heads toward the sound. The ash werewolf crept to the leaves. Then Ezra popped out, his eyes glowed scarlet, and the werewolf halted. He was trying to use his hypnosis. The vampire could feel the werewolf resisting; it was breaking free of his control. Ezra ordered him to attack the other werewolves.
In a few moments, the werewolf complied and lunged straight for his comrades. This gave the injured werewolf the right moment to attack. She jumped in and clawed at the werewolves who weren’t under Ezra’s control. She retaliated with several scratches. The female werewolf’s arm scathed with several lines of crimson blood; she still needed help.
Since the werewolves’ kept their focus on the lone wolf, Ezra did the only thing he could do, never mind the risks. He teleported in front of one, skidding his feet to the ground. This controlled the vampire’s movement enough for the werewolf to follow where he went. The werewolf sniffed the air and ran right toward him. Remembering his father’s advice on dodging, he leaped to the air.
He waited for an opportunity so he can get a look into the werewolf’s eyes. He got his opportunity and hypnotized the werewolf to go in a frenzy.
The werewolf ran towards his comrades, biting and scratching at them. It was a long battle to watch, but the werewolf made their injuries swift. She made their fur soaked in blood, their bodies scratched. They won’t fight back anytime soon. With all four legs limping, the werewolves retreated into the thick of trees.
Ezra approached the female werewolf, who shook her back around like a wet dog, stopped, sniffed and turned right at him. “You!”
Ezra froze. “Hello.”
“You were helping me with those wolves, weren’t you?” Her words spat like venom.
Ezra did not trust his words, so he nodded.
“That was unnecessary!” The werewolf threw her hands in the air. She screamed as she ran her claws over the tree. “I could have done it myself.”
“You were outnumbered,” Ezra pointed out. “Why were those werewolves attacking you?”
“Cowards! They knew they could not beat me, so they ganged up on me all at once.” The female werewolf spat at the ground. Her eyes narrowed as she got close to the vampire, baring her teeth. “Why did you help me?”
Ezra brushed his black hair, windswept from all the quick movement. “It’s not right to leave others all by themselves.”
Something in her brown eyes softened a tad. She crossed her arms. “Ulva. That’s my name.”
After a moment. “Ezra.” He did not think this is what would happen today. Perhaps she’s…? No, she is the one for me.
As Ulva was leaving, she added, “Don’t let me catch you in this part of the woods again.”
Now that was unacceptable.
Ezra was much more careful going home. The werewolves, who don’t venture out in public, enjoyed making impressions in the wood. He took the unused path to the side of the forest-the fallen leaves did well disguising the way.
It was a lucky thing that the werewolves did not give him much trouble. If he were not careful, Ezra would be dead. In physical combat, werewolves triumph over vampires. That was a risky move on Ezra’s part. Yet his mind clouded by the sight of the female werewolf. Ulva. She is everything Ezra did not realize he longed for. Longed? That word fit into the puzzle. Are they, two sworn enemies, predestined as mates?
As he walked, he thought and reflected. All his life, Ezra’s parents lectured him how the werewolves were cruel and bestial. From what he has seen so far, it’s true, but he couldn’t help but admire her. He thought werewolves were strong, stoic and proud. And here he finds one who needs assistance. No proud werewolf would do that. But then again, Ezra knew that even if she refused his help, he would still jump in. It is a cruel fate for someone to face against many adversaries at once with no chance of victory.
After his short walk, the wood parted like a curtain to a small town. How dead it was at this time of night. The light was sparse, with dimmed lampposts, and the open and close signs on the front of the 24-hour stores. An outsider could mistake this place for a ghost town. Is the blood bank open? He wondered.
He averted his attention to the building a way off from the main part of town, disconnected from the rest. Ezra looked both directions like he was about to cross the street, then teleported over to the front door. Except for a squeak, it swung open like any other creaky door. Inside was lit with dimmed lights. Cracked tiles spread throughout the floor like an earthquake happened there. Ezra noticed that the bank got new wheelchairs. Despite the shiny luster of their new metal, they were abandoned.
The lights coughed their feeble breaths. Ezra was sure that the owner, Z, a tired gentleman, had paid a part of his electric bill. He had met Z through one of his nightly sneak outs. He discovered that Z was a vampire serving at the blood bank. Since then, he visited the blood bank often to get his supply.
The vampire stepped into the room where there were a handful of dead-eyed humans. He knew they were humans because they oozed the metallic scent of blood. Though dark circles may tell him that these humans are not caffeinated, not equipped for the night, he ignored them as much as they ignored him. Ezra approached the front desk, Z was there. It must have been a good magazine because it took Z a moment to look up. He tossed the magazine aside and whispered, “Do you need a drink?”
“Yes,” Ezra whimpered back. He cocked his head toward the tired humans. No one looked up. “O.”
The owner got the vial, a paper label lined at the middle of the vial said “O.” Ezra pocketed the vial and gave his thanks.
“Any time,” Z replied. He disappeared a few moments, grabbing his magazine and spoke low. “Those wolves aren’t making my business easy.”
“Have they been making your life difficult?”
Z drummed his fingers on the desk. “Yes, and no. I couldn’t pay the taxes on time, so they’ve come by yesterday and smashed my electricity box. Now the lights aren’t working properly.”
“That’s terrible. Did you complain to them?”
Z huffed. “Why bother? Those werewolves in charge don’t care how bad in a bind we are. As long as they are in charge, everyone else can kiss the bottom of their hairy feet. Besides-” Z held up the cover of his magazine Suckers- “This ‘latest issue’ was back in the 70s. Clearly out of touch with our culture.”
“Well,” Ezra started, then decided at the last moment that now would not be the good time to talk to Z. “I better get going. My parents will not be too happy with me coming home later than usual.”
Z mumbled his goodbye, Z only mumbled when he was finished talking and went back to reading his magazine.
Ezra noticed as he left that white fog seeped from the sky, surrounding the town and the ghostly bank.
