Chapter Two: The Shake (Awful Feeling)

"They say a mind is a terrible thing to waste;
What good is mine if I'm locked up in a cage?
I was hoping you could help me out of here,
So I could finally disappear.
So I'll throw my thoughts into the sea,
Where no one will ever find -
I can't seem to shake this awful feeling
You wore, you wore, you wore me out
And I can't seem to -
I can't seem to shake this awful feeling.
You wore, you wore, you wore me out
And I can't believe."

--- My American Heart's "The Shake (Awful Feeling)"

"There is nothing to do in this room!" I said to myself, frustrated.

They didn't even have HBO. Well, they said they had it, but I couldn't get the remote to type the number in right. There was nothing to watch, unless I wanted to see the news about that massacre in Texas.

It wasn't exactly in my best interests to watch, though. Since I'd left home, I'd had nightmares of the werewolves coming after me; and if you knew what really happened, you could tell which parts of the news were truth and which were lies.

But it would fool anyone who didn't know exactly what had happened.

They said that the man, Douglass Willis, had just gotten chainsaw happy and rampaged through the town, eventually turned on himself. As for the bite marks, Bran had taken some of the dogs they raised in Aspen Springs down there to act as the feral dogs that would have smelled the blood and meat and gone in for their own survival.

I felt for those poor dogs.

And I felt for those poor folks that had to deal with all the problems of knowing about the preternatural. Especially the three people that had survived one-on-one attacks.

I finally settled for switching off the television and going down to the motel's laundry room to do that much-needed chore.

All I had were old, faded jeans and a few t-shirts and some socks and underwear, so I threw it all in together. I'd already turned the machine on when I remembered that there has to be detergent to actually clean the clothes.

So I went to the small store that had become my food supply. After a small, quick debate between me, myself, and I, I gave in and grabbed the detergent that smelled the best and a tub of chocolate ice cream. As an impulse buy, I grabbed a handful of candy while I was checking out.

The checker-guy smiled as I put the candy on the counter.

"Ben & Jerry's and Hershey's? Who broke your heart?" Then, "That'll be eleven-thirty-four."

I chuckled. "No one. Just worried, I guess." I handed him the money.

He raised an eyebrow as he opened the cash register. "Worried? Not about that new walker in town, is it?"

I realized that I was probably gossip to the Marrok's pack and the people around here. I decided to play dumb.

"New walker?"

The guy handed me my change and started to bag my things. "Yeah, well, sort of. I hear she's some wolf-walker cross."

"I… I didn't know that was possible."

He shook his head and leaned down to rest his elbows on the counter. "Yeah? Well I didn't either. Hear the Marrok's gonna talk to her when he gets back."

"Why is everyone worried?" I asked. "I mean, it's just a walker, right? Not like she'd be dangerous. Especially with the whole pack here, and the Marrok, when he gets back. Right?"

He looked up at me. "Yeah, well, no one really knows. I've never heard of something like that. I'd prefer to think there wasn't anything like that. I mean, I have a little brother. Nieces and nephews. I don't want to see them in danger just because some idiot werewolf mated with a different kind."

I held back the anger as best I could, but I knew my eyes were about to change from their typical dark blue to a nearly white, wolfish color. And I knew that they would be noticeable.

"Yeah, well, I think the Marrok will take care of it just fine. Later."

I grabbed my things and walked out of the store. I started taking deep breaths to calm myself down, get better.

I shoved the ice cream in the small freezer in the small refrigerator in my small hotel room and left all but one of the candy bars on my bed before taking the detergent to the laundry room.

As I opened the washer mid-wash and poured in a lid-full of detergent, I thought about what that man had said.

I was weak, to the wolves. I was outnumbered to the wolves. I was pretty much a plaything to the wolves. I didn't want to be at their mercy. I'd been in that position before, and it was nothing short of brutal.

And they feared me.

I was back in my hotel room, just out of the shower eating spoonfuls of ice cream straight from the tub, when there was a knock at my door. Figuring it was room service, I yelled, "Come back later!" at the closed door.

The knocking kept on.

I took off the towel I was wrapped in and pulled on one of my clean t-shirts and some of my faithful boxer shorts and made my way to the door, tripping on the laundry basket on the way there.

"Dammit," I muttered to myself as I pulled the door open a crack.

A woman stood there, but she was definitely not from house cleaning. She was straight up gorgeous. Dark hair, green eyes.

Then I scented her. Werewolf.

The fear instinct kicked in. I wanted to fall to the ground and express my submission, but I knew that once I started doing that here, I would never be able to stop.

Remembering what I'd heard at that store the day before, I suspected her to be at least short-tempered with me, but she was anything but when she said, "Hi! I'm Sage. You're Emlyn James, right?"

I slowly nodded.

She started to poke her head through the small hole between the door and the frame. "Can I come in?"

Again, I slowly nodded and stepped back from the door. I grabbed the tub of ice cream, put the lid on it, and shoved it in the tiny freezer of the fridge.

She stepped inside and looked around, as if she were judging my house. Except it was a motel room.

"I'm supposed to take you to see the Marrok." She looked me up and down. Then she smiled and said, "but he didn't say what time."

Oh, no, I thought. Of course he sends the bloodthirsty wolf after me.

I was cursing in my head and trying to find a way to get out of this situation when Sage surprised me even further. She flopped down on the bed and grabbed the remote. Somehow, she typed in the channel and got HBO. Then she said, "Got anymore ice cream?"

For those people that don't know, I own nobody in this fiction except for Emlyn and the characters connected to her. No Bran, no Sage, none of them, sadly.

And the song belongs to My American Heart, or whoever happened to have bought the rights to them.

I need to make them longer and update sooner.

Especially on Forever Doesn't Last. :)

I'm working on it, but it's the last few weeks of school, so they're loading on the finals, and I'm exhausted.

I shall try to get updates on each story by the end of the weekend. Friday's a weather day, so.

Reviews would be super nice. They always make me want to update sooner. :D

- Em.