4 am in the morning… 2 hours before the call.
Sterling’s Residence on Dover Street.
Joseph’s eyes were weak and faint, yet they strove to narrow over the dark tiny words that dotted the page in the simple computer type. Over and over he moved with care over each sentence, his tight brushy brows crinkled against his bear eyes intense focus. Worry etched in his lined face creasing it with more than the usual wrinkles making his age show though the zombie’s face as he pulled his thin lips in to a thinner line, frowning. His breath was steady but could have been none existent with Joseph’s hand held the paper in his weathered fingers, drawing it up closely to his face as his thick lenses perched on his ridged nose. Using the bottom of his lenses to read it was clear Joseph didn’t like what he saw. The long and short of it was enough for the old coroner to repeat it in his head as a sum paragraph even though the technical babble used, the very things he hated and increased his headache before he was forced to lean back in his wooden chair.
Aggression, increase in libido, and pain was the most dominate symptoms that reoccur in werewolf changes. One of the three usually stay with the infected throughout their adult wolf life and in need of frequent release or satisfaction or it becomes hard to control. In most cases, engaging in certain activities led to the wolf lashing out at others sometimes resulting in blood being exchanged hence infecting others. It was highest chance with intercourse, when a wolf’s desires are forced on a human that has caught their attention, infecting the victim or usually killing them after the fact. Horus was kind enough to provide pictures of mauled female victims, their faces eaten off or legs torn from their bodies at odd angles because the emotions were too overwhelming for the werewolf to properly control. No wonder Horus offered a use of a succubus. Demons born to accommodate this type of urge that made them a sturdy breed even in the most intense cases and spare a human from being bruised beyond repair.
God he hoped Eric had stayed at home… it creaked with his back pulling farther back, dislike to the light that added to his pain. His legs were on the edges pressed up against the arms of his chair, his right arm draped across the leg resting the elbow on the hard rest. His left hand gripping the paper tossed the inch thick booklet on the desk top with a loud thunk to message his eyebrow and release the tension headache, slowly reabsorbing what he had locked in his head. This was a nightmare screamed his thoughts while Joseph mere let the silence lull him into a better mood, his pads dug deeper in his temple while his lids closed to shut out the scenery around him of his study.
The pale weak yellow light of a desk lamp focused on the paper’s whiteness, making a mild glare, forcing Joseph to avert his eyes. He needed a drink of scotch. With that notion on his mind, he rose pushing his chair out from under him. Black shoes with over draped fly button pants shifted with his legs while Joseph made his path to the book case, outstretch hands to seize a dark wooden mahogany box lined with green velvet that cradled a long square bottle topped off in a porous cork. Setting it with the utmost care, Joseph’s eyes gleamed with positive excitement and need to numb his pounding head before heading to Eric’s apartment. The ember liquid still and fermented in the dark hand blown bottle topped with a porous cork as his thin fingers gently removed it from the soft in lining, swishing the contents ever so slightly. Putting the flat bottom on the uncovered desk he turned to pinch the rim of a pair drinking glasses between his finger and thumb before shuffling to another rectangular box. It had a pointed cone at the center of a round circular groove, surrounded by an inch box barrier that lead off to a wide mega phone with curved decorative edges along the widening mouth. It was a recorder, old fashion and before the time of radios it would play music from records at Joseph’s desire.
It was a memento of another time. His free hand pulled the long needle pointed rod over the already placed black disk. Seeking a certain groove, violin music played in a slow and sweet melody as if reciting a lullaby meant for another. Memories flooded in Joseph’s head but he stilled them, returning to the desk and pouring himself a drink that soon was casted into his throat burning it all the way down. Before repeating the filling on the other glass, savoring the next while he took a seat to let the music fill the room. Memories then danced in his depressive figure that slouched in his desk chair looking out a window into the unheard city’s day’s stirrings. Than it was off to Eric’s…
Present time, Hotel Amazones
Voices…Eric had moved, her body held tighter with her eyes shut, begging to stay asleep in this moment of time. She was lost in the curves of his body that followed her own against her, her chest pushed into his side with her right arm draped over his board chest. The sheet held tightly against her body, wrapping about it with her gentle breathing that seemed too swept in his sound of his voice to listen to the words meaning. His emotions flooded her. Troubles, tired, and worried that a soft moan escaped her lips. Her eyes scrunched in distract that threatened to pull her away from the blissful feeling of their recent activity. Even now the scents and sound of his voice, upset as it was, filled her with a comfort that she rarely found.
The moment his hand brushed her hair back, her eyes slowly rose to set sights on him. Lids heavy and weighted by the wear of their rough play she felt like a glow entered her body, etching it with a light and gentle feeling. Her mind slowly came awake to the concrete mixture of something wrong. Her body shifted up pulling her arm across his body to rest on the bending mattress before groggily raising her head to look him in the eyes. Something was…wrong. Her face tightened with uncertainty, a hard stare, while she tilted her head in confusion. The sheets fell away before her hand rose up to cling it to her body, hiding it and killing the chill their union’s end had left behind. Arm was wobbling but struggled to hold fast in her stubbornness before her word cut to the quick.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” Her voice sliced the awkward silence that his eyes, so concern and haunting with guilt made her heart nestle in her throat,” What’s bothering you?”
Without waiting for an answer, her lips pull into embrace his. Her tongue tastes his sweet saliva as memories of his love flooded back to her, arm released the sheet while her body holds fast to his and leg saddles across. Pulling her closer to him with hands resting on his shoulders leaving her eyes to close and embrace his worry, absorbing though the flesh into her soul. She wanted to drive that guilt for one reason or another away from his beautiful hazel eyes, his stubble treated to the wash of her lips and the prodding of her tongue before drawing close to his ear with a husky whisper.
“You realize, I might need help…getting into the shower…,” Her want should drive into his heart yet, it weakly as she leaned heavily to show how he left her. How their coupling brought forth a world that she found to care about him and her.