Well, here's the next chapter! I send my thanks to WhisperingBells1959, aka Zoe. This one's for her!
It was Saturday. Mouth, wearing a black leather jacket, black Levis, a white T-shirt under the jacket, white socks, and black penny loafers on his feet, was walking along the road. He was deep in thought, remembering the events of the previous day…
Flashback…
The door jangled open, causing Mouth to look up from his video game.
"Jerk alert!" he called.
Everyone looked over at the door.
"Oh, man. It's Troy," Mikey groaned.
"Who's Troy?" Abigail queried.
"The biggest jerk in Astoria," Mikey replied.
"He thinks he's so cool just because he has a car," Andy spoke up bitterly.
"Well, well, well. Look who we have here. It's the Goonies," Troy Perkins said mockingly. His two friends laughed.
Almost as if by some invisible force, the Goonies gathered around each other.
"What do you want, Troy?" Andy asked.
"Nothing…from you," Troy sneered. "You know Andy, you had a chance to be cool. But you blew it by joining the Goonies," he continued.
"Troy, I don't care about your opinion. Just leave us alone, okay?" Andy requested. She started to walk away, but Troy grabbed her arm.
"Let go of me, Troy!" she exclaimed.
"Hey, let her go!" Mikey shouted, going to her defense.
"You little Goonie! You're gonna tell me what to do?" Troy sneered, shoving Mikey to the ground. Brand immediately went for Troy, only to have Abigail get there first. She pulled Troy away from Andy and pulled him close.
"Don't you ever shove Mikey," Abigail growled. Her blue eyes were blazing, filled with a rage that Mouth suddenly remembered all too well. He had seen it before...in a wolf's eyes. The wolf was white and it had blue eyes, just like Abigail's. The wolf had probably recognized him, for it walked over and licked his hand. Then it had looked over at something and growled, pulling back its lips and showing its long curved canines. The rage had been there, in its eyes.
He looked at Abigail. It was strange how she reminded him of that wolf just then.
"And what are you gonna do about it? Huh?" Troy asked, trying to sound brave.
"Believe me, you don't want to know," Abigail threatened softly.
Troy gulped, looking in those cobalt eyes and then, perhaps, seeing the intensity as well as anger in them for the first time. Abigail shoved him back.
"By the way, Troy, I suggest you tell that no-good father of yours that I, Abigail Marie Watson, am keeping an eye on his son. You dig, Troy?" she snapped, striking a James Dean-like stance.
Troy nodded, but then said,
"Hey, my father isn't no good, you…you…"
"Beat it!" Abigail snarled. Mouth looked at her and grinned. The way she snarled was also like a wolf.
Taken aback, Troy and his friends left.
"Psychopath," Abigail growled so that only Mouth heard her. He walked over and casually slipped his arm through hers. She looked up at him. Mouth was a year older than her, and he was also taller.
End flashback…
Mouth smiled. Abigail had reminded him of a white wolf he had seen in his dreams once. It was a male wolf. The wolf had been…him…
It was a beautiful and fine animal, rangy and muscular, with snow-locked fur. It was looking at her fixedly. It was looking at her. Every hair on her body bristled. She knew she could not move because it had noticed her and was keeping its wild gaze on her intently with an almost human expression. Its eyes were more intense and more savage than any animal-eyes she had ever seen. They shined with single-minded menace.
Escaped from Astoria Zoo... Abigail thought dazedly, recalling the words she had read in the paper. Be calm, she told herself. Wolves don't attack people. They never attack people. A single wolf would never attack a thirteen-year-old girl.
However, the wildness in its eyes, the look of roaring, triumphant, brutal freedom, told her a different story. Those eyes told her the tale of how it would lunge at her small body, use its weight to push her down, crushing her beneath it, knocking the air clean out of her. Then, the wolf would sink its teeth into her throat and shake her, tearing skin and ripping muscles away. Her blood would spray like a fountain. It would fill her windpipe and her lungs and her mouth. She would die gasping and choking, maybe drowning before she bled out.
Drowning...
Oh God, please make it stop...
The wolf snarled. The large mouth opened, panting, showing teeth and the blue eyes blazed with hot bestial triumph. Abigail's eyes were helplessly fixed on the sharp white teeth, even as she tried to back away, slowly and carefully, her mind racing ahead. The wolf's lips pulled back further and further. Abigail could see its short front teeth and its long, curving canines. She could see its forehead wrinkling. And she could feel its body vibrate in a wild, vicious growl – the sound of absolute savagery.
Then the wolf began to change. It evolved into the form of a young man, fourteen years old, wearing a black leather jacket, black Levis, a white T-shirt under the jacket, white socks, and black penny loafers on his feet.
Abigail was taken aback. Mouth? she thought. It certainly looked like him. She wondered what was to take place now.
He smiled at her. The rage that had been seen in the eyes of the wolf whose form he had taken was now replaced by warmth, compassion and wisdom.
Still she thought she had seen him before. Then she remembered – it was Mouth.
Then he held out his hand.
"Come here, Abigail," he purred.
She hesitated a bit, then walked over to him and placed her hand in his. Then…
Mouth smiled as he walked up to the church. It was grey, with colorful stained glass windows. A cross adorned the steeple at the top. It gave one the feeling that angels were watching over them.
Mouth stepped casually up to the door, pulled it open and walked inside. It was all lit up. The reason for this was because to his left was the sanctuary, its doors already open. He walked over to the entrance, stopped, wondering if this was a good idea, and then walked in.
To his surprise, there was Abigail. She was sitting up on the stage, her eyes closed. She was deep in thought.
Mouth walked up to the stage, his footsteps muted by the green carpet covering the floor, the stage steps up to the stage itself.
Well, read and review!
