The reader turnout for this story turned out to be way better than I expected! For all the wonderful readers who reviewed the story, here is review reply time:
Brookeworm3: Thank you so much for the review! Here is the next update :D
K: I'm glad to see that you like the concept - I promise similar stuff is to come!
Kayozm: I'm glad you like it. It's not complete, as you can tell by this next update - I have quite a few more chapters in development.
Ashmerlin: Yep! This is going to be a multi-chapter story.
Now, onto the story!
She'd only read about that sort of stuff on tumblr.
It isn't the kind of thing Sophia expects to see to happen to herself - some kindly stranger offers consolation and doesn't turn out to be a serial killer. She'd heeded his words - had gone straight home, had an entire pizza as she watched Brooklyn Nine Nine and discarded the pills she had been hoarding for that moment, feeling cowardly to take the step after all the trouble that kind man had gone through in talking her through it. Had he sensed what was going on, or was he just being nice in general? She doesn't know which it was, but Sophia is grateful for the guy and his words nevertheless.
Now, in the morning with a calming cup of tea and the morning news playing on her television screen, she feels a lot better and put together, and a little proud of herself too. Her breakfast of waffles is going to be ready in a few minutes, and she sits down on the sofa, watching the news as she waits for the machine's beeps.
"And now, the local news," the anchor begins, "the body of a local student has been found in the forest by a college dorm. The student, identified as Mason Dwyer, appears to have been prey to what seems like wolves." The view switches to the cameraman and reporter on ground, last night's tennis courts serving as their backdrop, and her stomach drops.
"I'm standing here with Cambridge's chief of police, Captain Adam Stellman. Captain, how and when did you find the body?" The man in question turns to look grimly at the reporter, leaning forward to be audible.
"His friends reported him missing, and his last known location was a block away from his residential complex, so we canvassed the surrounding areas. Somewhere along the trail, we recovered his wallet and decided to take the search deeper into the woods. Our hound smelled the remaining blood a good distance, and we followed the scent to the site of discovery."
"Remaining blood?"
"The body had been drained of close to 70% of its blood."
"If you are liberty to discuss, could you tell us the condition the body was found in?"
"Well, there are bite marks in quite a few places across the body, which itself has been mangled in patterns similar to a wolf's. Though it is rare for the animals to venture this close to civilisation, it is not implausible and we advise all residents to take great care to avoid the woods at all costs until the forest rangers assure us that the rogue animal has been contained."
"Thank you Captain," the man nods in reply, "with cameraman Ben Lowenthal, I am Eric Stanley for NBC Cambridge, Massachusetts."
Animal?
She's been at this college for the past four years, and never once have they heard of a wolf or such wild animals wandering this close to campus. A shiver runs down her spine as she thinks of the tennis courts in the footage, the same spot she had been at yesterday. That was where Mason Dwyer was last scene, from where just metres away, a wolf had been prowling for prey. But wolf don't hunt for sport.
The news report hadn't exactly mentioned whether parts of the body had been eaten away or not, but they said that attack patterns match a wolf's. A wolf would not attack a human unless they were a threat, and a wolf would never drain a body of its blood.
Anyhow, she's not a complete nut to go chasing this unknown threat - animal or not - and she'll listen to the police's recommendations and warnings and stay the hell away from that spot until the all clear is issued. Thank you, stranger who told me to leave. She doesn't know his name, nor has she ever seen him around the campus, but she hopes that wherever that guy is, he's doing well and is safe. She indirectly owes him one.
A shrill beep tells her that the waffles are done, and she munches down on the chocolate chip laced treat, eyes trained on the NBC channel for any more information on this strange case.
It's a Saturday and the beginning of Fall Break, so most people will be gone for a week, and this also means that she has a week to work further on her thesis without any added coursework on her head. The thought makes her smile, and she packs her bag with the necessary provisions to head to the Starbucks in the nearest library.
The sky is overcast and looks like it will rain, so she keeps the umbrella in her hand, taking in her quiet surroundings and cool air and just relaxing in the overall vibe that today's weather provides. As the library comes within sight, Sophia notices that the building is mostly empty of patrons - what else was she expecting? - and quickly nabs a window seat in the Starbucks. Like most coffee shops on campus, it isn't quick to kick her out, but it has a better view than most so she frequents it more than the others.
Two hours pass productively, but now she's a little thirsty and desperately wanting to check her tumblr, so she pulls up a new browser window that is blessedly devoid of tabs relating to wing designs and heads over to the menu, peering at the specials.
"I'd say a hot hazelnut would be the way to go for today," the barista suggests with a smile. "But the peppermint frappe is a great alternative if you're someone who prefers the cold ones." She returns the barista's smile, then orders the latter and returns back to her seat five minutes later, hand wet with condensation from the drink. When Sophia looks at the clock again, an hour has passed, she's 20 percent through her drink, and she really needs to get back to her previous work.
The process is repeated twice, and by then the sky has darkened considerably, and the barista is winding up operations on his side. So she packs up her stuff and heads out in the direction of her apartment, the walk slightly misty but fun due to the drizzle. There's a nice set of old Star Wars comics that's been sold at the bookstore she passes, and in the rain-streaked glass she catches a reflection of the man from last night.
To his credit, he doesn't ignore her - instead, he smiles and makes his way over to her; for some reason, it feels like he was almost waiting there for her. Now in the twilight, she can properly look at his clothing - he's dressed immaculately in a long dark grey trench coat and black pants, a white shirt providing a stark contrast to the otherwise dark colour profile of his clothing. "Hey," she offers a smile, fiddling with the lint in her hoodie pocket, "uh, thanks, for last night. You, uh, saved my life in more ways than one."
"I was just helping out a person in need."
"That's not what most people do," she murmurs, looking down at the wet pavement. "Anyhow," Sophia raises her voice to be audible, "I was wondering if I've ever seen you around on campus. Are you a student?"
"Started my masters in psychology and classics this semester."
"Cool cool cool." He glances at the shut umbrella in her hand, an amused look playing across his face. "I like walking in the drizzle," she explains.
"You could fall sick, you know."
"But I haven't so far, so Drizzle 0, Sophia 1." Oh shit - she just let her name slip, and she has no idea what his is. Well, someone had to do it - might as well be me. "What's your name?"
"Demetri." He is, by no doubt, one of the most uniquely named people she has met.
"Because I'm curious," she adjusts the strap of her bag on her shoulder, "I want to know exactly what the etymology behind your name is."
"And I will tell you," he replies, "provided we move to a drier location."
"Well, there is a nice coffee shop nearby - beware, it is mostly populated by hipsters and people with an indie grunge aesthetic." At that, Demetri laughs - his voice is rich and slightly deep and for some reason super comforting; he could be reading an Ikea manual and that would ease her anxiety.
"I'm sure I'll survive."
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