Chapter 16:

-Pissed of Michael-

This attacked was strange and somehow waited. The wound one in his breast started to heal and hurt a little. No wonder, it was almost a two inches big hole and he had lost much blood. Thanks to the immortal blood, he drank he felt sufficiently strong to put this easy away. He was irritated and he wanted an answer. In a fast walk he crossed the forest back to the village. He saw light in the room of the sheriff and without knocking he stepped inside the house and into the room. Grey Wolf looked around terrified and saw his blood-streamed not exactly cheerful friend. Something told him, that this was no tea visit.

"Ah God, what happened?"

"Maybe you can tell me this, eh? A dozen or a whole herd of werewolves were lurking for me in the forest."

"We have to look after the wound."

"It doesn't exist no more soon. Tell me, why did you not tell me that werewolves swarms in this forest? You held it for unnecessary or what!" his tones became loud and threaten. "I could pull the whole over every single individual one's eyes."

"Calm down. What happened?" he repeated.

"You told me about a tamed werewolf, who is it?"

Grey Wolf wanted to begin the sentence; however Michael could imagine it only too well. Ah God, he had done a mistake. He had trusted the wrong people.

"Consider if I take the last breath from each individual ones, then also your son will pay for it."

"No, you don't dare this. I wanted to help you. I thought one can trust you."

"And how I dare it. Don't believe that I keep back myself and got stabbed." he calmed down, and then he went to the window and stared into the black forest. "I trust you and you can trust me, but conceal nothing more from me, it could cost your life. I asked your son, to get some things for your experiment on me."

"Don't harm my son, please. However, he isn't himself and you should understand this exactly."

"If he keeps away from me, nothing will happen and believe me, they know what they're doing, no matter in human-form or wolf only that they're driven by a hunger and passion for violence. A human being can't recognize a simple werewolf in his human-shape, not before it's too late. Your son is lost. But if he admits it, maybe you can calm him."

Grey Wolf nodded. He understood completely what Michael meant and he saw the danger. "And what happens now? Did you change your mind? You look not exactly so as would you welcome our plan."

"That's true but we get through it. I will get on my way and will see about the stuff we need... is maybe a better idea, I know what I have to do."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ivanhoe pointed on a good idea out to me. If I could get enough anaesthetic… one could put me asleep for a few minutes but to be certain about it, one should better chain me after all. It's no problem if I am not with consciousness, isn't it?"

"Ehm... of course would be better if you are but if you hold it for necessary, then... then it would work or I hope it will."

"Will get crooked. Oh just one thing... from now on, don't keep secrets fro me or I lose patience."

"I have nothing to do with it, I swear and why should I help you if I would plan something..." "We discuss it later. Rest, I will be back before the next full moon rises."

These were the last words which left the room. Michael's mood was dammed and the only thing which kept his vital energy upright was the thought to see his son again if the time's coming. he retreated into his housing where he undressed his blood-drenched and torn clothing at first and threw them straight away into the trash can and he could also forget his sunglasses. The wounds he got administered had healed only the hole in his breast was still on to fix the flesh together. Michael went into the bathroom and stopped in front of the sink, turned on the hot water and washed his face without to look up one single time into the mirror. Even if he didn't care much about his hygiene so he used nevertheless from habits the shower. He rubbed under the hot water the dried dirt blood mixture of his upper body. it burned a little as he cleaned the part with the still open wound, then he sat down into the corner of the shower and let the water trickles down indefinitely. However, his bare body was he pure-cleaned after five minutes but he still felt dirty and more badly however this he couldn't so simply resolve with water, it came from his inner... from his black soul. The more he thought about what he never could have again, the more deeply his fingers dug into his flesh on his back. Pain and death was his world now. The blood mixed with water and was rinsed into the drain. Michael got up and let the water flow the last time through his hair then he turned off the tap and snatched the hanging bath towel at the wall to dry him. He wrapped the bath towel around his hip and went into the living room, sat on the couch and switched on the TV. He took the telephone and dialled a number. He let it ring.