Twilight

A Howl of Pain and Vengeance

Chapter One

Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and character names.

I try not to think back to that day, when everything changed for me. Although night would be more accurate. You hear stories about hikers that just disappear, or are found dead after a nasty accident. What they don't tell you, what they don't know, is what really happens to hikers out in the wilds.

As hard as I try not to think back to that night, I'll never be able to forget it. For on that fateful night, life as I knew it ended. Only to be replaced with a new life. A life that could only be truly described as the stuff nightmares are made off.

-/-

My thoughts are fuzzy. I can only see blackness, and my hearing is dull. A faint buzzing is all my ears seem to perceive. With my head swimming, I try to fight for control of my senses. To work out where I am. With my eyes blind and my ears dull I start with my sense of touch. Praying that my nerve endings still work. The first sensation to reach my brain is a faint ache in my left arm, but I'm unable to focus on it.

The next sensation to reach me, is that I'm lying atop something. I can feel the edges of my body pressed against something. Something soft I believe by the lack of sensation. A bed maybe. Soft enough to keep me comfortable while supporting my frame. I focus on the top side of my body. Can I feel a sheet, or my clothes. It doesn't feel like I'm wearing my clothes.

A feeling tries to settle in, but my fuzzy brain can't grasp it. I believe it should be panic I'm feeling. Why aren't I in my hiking gear? Aren't I asleep in my hotel room? No, I can't be. I don't recall returning to the hotel. How strange. I try to move, but my limps feel like lead weights, and I can barely move my fingers. The feeling I believe to be panic tries once more to settle in, but my brain is still unable to grasp at it.

What is wrong with me? I'm still blind so I can't see where I am. So I focus all my efforts onto my hearing. To push past the faint buzzing in my ears. Something starts to get through, yet it keeps stopping. No, not stopping, repeating. I can just make out a faint beep beep noise. It sounds familiar and oddly comforting. If only I could figure out why.

The strain of forcing myself to just achieve this basic awareness is taxing to me, and I feel myself starting to slip. Slip into a deep darkness of peace and quiet. Where nothing seems important, and life carefree. I try to fight it for a mere moment, but I can't. So I slip and wonder when next I'll have the strength to return.

-/-

I roll my head slightly and groan, raising my right hand to my face. Placing the length of my hand over my eyes, and lower forehead. A hear a slight movement nearby, to my left, and slightly downwards of me. It sounds like the faint shuffle of a shoe upon a hard polished floor. I open my eyes, and gasp, quickly shutting them again.

"Easy Mr. Winters." A masculine voice says, in a soft and reassuring tone of voice. "You've been asleep for a while, and it'll take a little while for your eyes to adjust." The same voice says. I lift my eyelids up ever so slightly, wincing at the stinging sensation in my eyes.

"Where am I?" I ask, vague recollections starting to return to me, yet nothing coherent yet.

"You're in Namsos Hospital," The voice answered, as a shadow passes over me, allowing me to open my eyes wider. He could now see an elderly grey haired doctor leaning over me, in the typical white doctors coat. As I open my eye's wider, my vision sharpens. I could clearly see each wrinkle in the doctors skin. The few flecks of grey imbedded in the doctors blue eyes.

"Namsos," I whisper, a few memories returning to me. "I was hiking along Klompen." The doctor pulled back, with a slight nod of his head. The light stung briefly as he did so, but this time I could keep my eye's open.

"Yes, the poor old woman who found you crawling along the road side, said you must of been hiking Klompen." The doctor said with a faint smile.

I focus on the name, but dismiss it as it's Norwegian, and my Norwegian was sketchy at best. I finally take in the small room that I'm lying in. A chair nearby holds my backpack and clothes. I can see the tear in my hiking jacket. A small window in the far wall is shuttered so I can't see out. Other than the bed, the only other items of note are an IV and a small telly on a small wooden stand in the corner.

"Now long have I been asleep?" I ask, returning my focus onto the doctor, his scribbling is clear and distinct to my ears.

"Four nights, Mr. Winters. When you were brought in, I didn't think you'd last the night due to the amount of blood you had lost." The doctor looked up and smiled broadly. "I am glad to say I was wrong. Through you spent the first two nights thrashing about as your body fought a fever."

"I'm afraid we had to restrain you." The doctors face took on a brief frown, which quickly disappeared. "How do you feel Mr. Winters?" He asked me.

"Fine," I said as I pushed myself up into a sitting position. As I thought about it, I realised that I felt better than fine. Indeed I felt, well perfect. The doctor raised an eyebrow and leaned back over me, and rested the back of his hand on my forehead.

"You're still running a slight fever Mr. Winters, but I do believe you are actually in good health." He stepped back and walked to the end of the bed where he put the chart he'd been writing in, before slotting his pen into his coat pocket. Something occurred to me then.

"How do you know to speak English to me?" I asked.

"We found your passport in your backpack." The doctor said. "Luckily for you I studied medicine in England at Oxford University." I thanked him then, and watched him leave. The noises of the hospital flooded my room as the door opened, and when it shut, I realised that if I listened hard, I could still hear the hospital noises clearly.

"What happened to me?" I ask myself quietly.

A flash of a memory makes me jerk my head upwards, and then it is gone. My breath had caught in my throat, and I could feel a faint trickle of sweat form on my brow. I shut my eyes and shake my head. I don't know why I just saw a giant wolf, jaw agape, but I quickly dismiss it as pure nonsense. I throw back the covers of the bed, and swing my legs around to hang over the edge of the bed.

I push myself up onto my feet, barely feeling the cool polished floor beneath my feet. My focus is on how strong my legs feel. As if I hadn't just spend four days confined to a bed. I look down at them, sticking out from my hospital gown, and gasp. I knew I did a lot of walking and hiking. I even went to the gym twice a week, yet my legs had never looked so toned.

I bent forward to run a finger over the clearly defined curve of muscle beneath skin, when I notice that my arm's are in the same shape. I know for a fact that they barely showed any sign of muscle definition before. I quickly untie the hospital gown, and pull it off. I stand there naked looking down at a six pack that had only ever been there in my dreams.

My heart is racing now, and I can barely think straight. I know something is wrong, and while being in a hospital is the best place to find out what, something in the back of my mind tells me to go. To run! I quickly grab my hiking clothes and get dressed. The left arm off my jumper and hiking jacket have four slashes going down from the shoulder to the elbow.

I stop to check my left arm, to find four pale scars running down the length of my tricep. I sling my backpack onto my back, barely registering how light it feels compared to the last time I'd been carrying it. I step up to the door, and take a deep breath, before opening it and stepping out. I allow my hearing to heighten, scanning conversations around me, as I quickly head down the corridor looking for a way out.

-/-

Somehow I manage to exit the hospital without anyone stopping me. I stop to inhale the fresh air, before getting my bearings. First stop the Børstad hotel. A street sign says I'm on Havnegata. Thank the lord I'm not far from the hotel. I start walking down the road looking for the Herlaugs Gate turn off. I take the second crossroad that I come too, heading right. The road heads straight on, until it curves round and becomes Carl Gulbransons gate.

I can now see the hotel, just down the street. I smile, thankful that I got here okay. I even slow my pace to enjoy the crisp cool air on my warm skin, the sun is low in the sky, heading to the east. Sunset can't be too far off, and I wonder how soon I can get a plane home. Home. After all this I'll be more than happy to return to gloomy old England.

I step up into the hotel, walking briskly across the foyer. I notice a queue waiting for the elevator, so I head for the stairwell which takes me past the front desk. The woman behind the desk, raises her eyes at me. As I quickly glance at her, I see her eyes widen slightly, and she quickly greets me in Norwegian. I smile and give a slight wave to her.

I run the stairs, two at a time, until I reach the top floor. Not such a feat as you might think as there are only two floors. Soon I'm stood in my suite and crossing to the bed where I dump my backpack. I make my way into the bathroom to relieve myself and catch my reflection in the mirror. I pause briefly, but I really have to relieve myself so I can't stop to admire my hardened facial features. Yet I can't help noticing that I seem to look ten years younger.

As I stand over the toilet, I ponder my youthful appearance and my highly toned body. My mind tells me that it's impossible. That I must be dreaming. Yet when I pinch myself it hurts. I sigh as I finish relieving myself. Four day's ago I was a forty two year old man hiking through a mountain forest. Today I'm a scared thirty year old that just wants to go home.

Once I've washed my hands, I make my way back to the bedroom and start packing my things. I remember to pull my English to Norwegian book out of my backpack, and put it into my grey jacket. I also swap my slashed blue jumper for another blue jumper, and stash my slashed jumper and hiking jacket at the bottom of my largest suitcase. Once I've got both my suitcases packed, I quickly scan the room for anything I might of missed.

There appears to be nothing left behind, so I grab my jacket, check my wallet is safely tucked away in the inside pocket, and grab both suitcases before heading back down stairs, using the elevator this time. Once back on the ground floor I make my way sedately towards the counter, where the woman is still sat. I notice she must be about twenty-five to thirty.

Her long blonde hair is tied up in a bun, and her blue eyes sparkle as they look up at me. I grin to myself as I come to a standstill upon the other side of the polished wood counter. With the aid of my book, and the woman who's more than willing to help, I managed to pay for my brief stay and ask for the woman to order a taxi for me. Once it arrives, I bid her farewell and thank her for all her help.

Once my suitcases are in the boot of the taxi, I sit in the back of the taxi, and it drives away. The driver already knows that I want to get to the airport. I really want to urge him to drive faster, but I don't want to draw too much attention to myself at this point. So I end up staring out of the window at the darkening sky, wondering once more. 'What happened to me?"