Chapter 4

Remus

When I woke up in my garden. I knew I’d fucked up. I should have been conscious and in the locked room in a matter of a few hours. There was a pile of soft soil beneath me. Whoever I’d killed, their remains were beneath me. The instinct to store food was good because there was less evidence left behind at a crime scene. It was barely dawn, and the light was beginning to filter through. I would deal with this mess later because I needed to see the camera footage first.

How I managed to get out of the room, and the condition of the body was a priority. I stood up only to notice my body covered in blood and dirt. There was too much blood. I turned towards the house and saw a woman’s lifeless body lying on the grass.

My eyes closed as I embraced the flashbacks of the memory from earlier. Id didn’t always work, but it was worth a try. Memories began to flash through my mind. The trick was trying to hold onto them before they stopped. Clawing at the window, then the door. My claws cut through the steel. Running. Racing across the long grass, avoiding the trees.

Humans. Hunger. Blood. Food. Pain. My pain.

My eyes snapped open, and I frowned at losing the thread of memory. The faces of the men weren't important, nor did I recognise the woman who lay before me. Her body was intact. She had no visual wounds, only blood on her face and neck. I nudged her leg, but she didn't move. Someone caused me pain last night, and I wondered if it was her.

I leaned down to inspect her. She might have a mixed race, but she looked to have an African heritage at first glance. The zip of her jacket was halfway down, and I pulled it off and searched through her pockets. I found her mobile phone, which I would need to incinerate, and her bank card. There was nothing else in her pockets.

What kind of a woman didn't carry a handbag?

Her face had black smudged make-up on it. She’d been out for Halloween. She was aesthetically pleasing to the eye. Her facial bone structure and her body. She would look good on a pole at the club.

My eyes widened when I saw her skin through a cut mark on the leather material. I pulled the jacket off her by shoving her on her side. As I inspected the jacket, I saw my claw mark on one side and a hole on the other side. I pushed her onto her back to examine her neck, shoulders and chest, but she didn't have a single scratch on her.

I thought of all the close calls where I had bitten or clawed someone, but this didn't make sense. This couldn't be possible. The fact that the event that occurred only took place mere hours ago made it even more impossible. I glanced at her card.

Zailah Akon.

She was a werewolf, and I created her.

◆◆◆

After securing her in the silver chains and inspecting my mangled steel door, I took a long, hot shower. The more I thought about the phenomenon, the more excited I became. Something unique in our genes makes us more likely to become infected. If this weren't the case, werewolves would overrun the world. I thought about the geneticist who worked with the Professor who cloned Dolly the sheep in 1996.

I always kept him in my files because if I didn't use him, it would be someone close to him. I’d never had the opportunity to call on him until now. My mind whizzed at how much research I needed to work on and how I could push him into a corner. I knew DNA could be separated and that gene editing could change the molecular structure of a being. The answer had been staring me in the face.

Now that the blood moon period was gone, I could focus on a way to perfect my condition. When I became infected, I was possibly a werewolf for longer than a night, so I would need to remain in Ketterby to watch over the woman. I would need to loosen the chains if she shifted. My stomach lurched with excitement.

To watch someone else go through it all filled me with malicious glee, but I stopped trying to be a ‘good’ person the moment my life turned upside down.

◆◆◆

Fucking hell.

If I counted the girl, I had a total body count of five people. I pushed the video back to watch me throw the bodies over the wall again. They were missing some limbs, which was unfortunate, but I would need to find another property because this house was too close to the scene of the crime. I wouldn't take any chances, and I needed to dig up the bodies to dismember their heads. At least it was Friday today, and I had the weekend ahead of me.

I made a list for tackling my work, property, the girl, the doctor and the legal aspects of my project. When I searched for Zailah’s name on the internet, I found that her social media accounts and her work website showed up. It would have been better for me if she wasn't a professional, but I doubted the police would work too hard to find her. I didn't make the rules. I only exploited them, and I knew enough wealthy people in powerful positions to understand how racist most of them were behind closed doors. I hoped it was someone of that ilk that picked up her investigation. I had hope for the first time in 33 years, and I didn't want anything to stop me from succeeding.

I went downstairs to check on Zailah and left her a bucket with some toilet paper. Since I didn't remember a thing about my initial transitional period, it would be interesting to see what happened to her over the next few days. I checked on the chains. The wrist and ankle shackles were too loose for her human form, but the one around her neck should hold her in place.

I wanted to learn and improve my weaknesses through hers. Silver was a problem, and I needed it to be weeded out of my DNA. Her body would be used to run many tolerance tests. Control was everything in my world—the fewer weaknesses I was exposed to, the better. Someone had hurt me last night, and it could only have been with silver or a weapon that was silver-plated.

“You're not going to enjoy what's coming to you,”

I murmured as I ran my finger down her arm. “But I will enjoy making you come to heel like a good bitch should.”

She could be as powerful as my werewolf, but she was still a woman and, therefore, physically weaker. Humans were easy to manipulate, but the thought of making her subservient to me, knowing it would be a challenge, only made me want it more. She could prove to be a valuable asset for me to utilise, and that was a fascinating concept. It all depended on her survival throughout the experiments.

I smiled and stood up to leave. My wolf had rendered the door useless. The four deep claw marks through the metal made me think of getting a silver door put into my next location. There were two more doors before she could leave the basement, but for now, the silver chains would keep her in her place. I could repair the door in the next few days.

I scanned the various areas of the basement, thinking of what was required for my next property. There was no time to build another property with a hidden basement. I would need to find something that would work as a laboratory, prison and home.

I stopped off in the garage to pick up a shovel before I began to dig up the bodies my wolf had stashed away for a snack. Once I pulled the men out of the hole and laid them out to inspect them, I realised that their going missing wouldn't be as much of a problem as her. I’d eaten all the organs from one of the men. His chest and stomach were torn apart. Fresh heart meat was a delicacy for my wolf. The meat was juicy and full of blood. When there wasn't a blood moon, I was more conscious of my actions and learned more about my wolf side.

I returned to the garage to retrieve an axe and container because I would need to feed Zailah while she was in her transition period. I didn't see the need to waste fresh meat.