Brandon fumbled through his pockets, while still trying to evade his werewolf step-father who was right at his heels, lunging out and trying to nip Brandon to bring him down, frantically looked for his cellular phone to call the police. If anyone that would be able to help him, it would be them… possibly. Running and trying to dig his phone out of his pocket was an impossible task at the moment and Brandon knew that he needed to be able to stop for a split second to grab the phone and dial 9-1-1. Rick lunged out again, this time so close that Brandon had to jump to keep from being bit and infected or worse yet… mauled. Doing so gave Brandon the upper-hand momentarily that he ran into the pantry and locked the door from inside. Brandon knew that the door would not last long against his step-father‘s claws and he dialed the emergency number as fast as he could. As soon as the number was entered in the phone and sent, a young sounding woman answered the line.
“9-1-1 Emergency, please state your emergency.”
Panting and out of breath, Brandon spoke sporadically. “Yes ma‘am… I need help… my step-father is a…”
“Is what sir?”
“Oh… sorry I am out of breath from running from him.”
“Is he beating you to the point of threatening your life?”
“No ma‘am, he is trying to bite me!”
“Excuse me, did you say your dad is trying to bite you?”
“Yes ma‘am I did. You see my dad is a werewolf!”
“A werewolf sir? Are you sure you‘re not being attacked by a rather large wolf or dog? You do know that there are such things in your area of town correct?”
“Yes ma‘am I do, but it is not a large animal, it‘s my step-dad trying to attack me who I watched transform into a werewolf right before my eyes!”
“Alright sir… I am sending three of our finest police officers over to your house right now. They should be able to help you with whatever problem you are really having at the moment. Stay wherever you are right now, they will be there within moments.”
As she hung the line up on the other end, Brandon thought to himself Yeah, that is exactly what I am going to do, otherwise my ass is going to get bitten and I‘ll be a werewolf like him or I‘ll be dinner for him, either way I am screwed.
The pounding ensued, Brandon could hear the claws rake through another layer of wood, and soon he could see the tips of the claws mark where they would cut through first. As Rick tore through the last layer between him and his prey, the doorbell went off and Rick‘s attention was broken. Brandon‘s heart leapt for joy, hoping it was the police to take care of his step-father. For now, he would be safe, but he knew this was his chance to move incase the police were disposed of and his step-dad came back for him.
When all sound in the kitchen ceased, Brandon silently moved the metal latch to unlock and open the door, and cautiously peered out into the kitchen to look for Rick the werewolf. Seeing that the coast was clear, Brandon made his way toward the hidden door that only he knew about, or at least he hoped he was the only one who knew of it, located behind the staircase leading up from the front door. This way Brandon would be able to safely hide and hear everything that went on. He moved quickly, but silently, positioning himself in the secret room and closed the door as quietly as he could. Listening now, Brandon was surprised not to hear anything. He supposed it could have been a ding-dong ditcher, because if it were anything else, there would have been screams of terror or death, which ever came first. Listening further, Brandon heard his step father move through the house, but there were more footsteps… eight to be exact. Brandon knew who the first two belonged to from the ticking of Rick‘s claws against the wood floor, but the others were different, they sounded like rubber soles stepping onto the wood. It then hit him like a ton of bricks, the other six were three sets of feet, the three cops who had been on their way to his rescue.
Brandon‘s heart felt like a ton of bricks sinking into the vast depths of the ocean, coming to eventually rest on the sandy bottoms. His only hope of rescue was now undoubtedly in league with his werewolf step-father. Remaining quiet, he heard his step-father bust through the wooden pantry door, only to find it empty. A loud howl echoed through the house, no doubt trying to strike fear into Brandon, making his heart beat louder so that his step-father could find him and it was working, no matter how hard Brandon tried to calm down and slow the hard thumping of his heartbeat. The claws rapped against the wood, slowly and methodically searching for Brandon when he heard three new voices, the voices of the police.
“Come on out son, we need to talk to you.”
“Yeah, that‘s right… we need to talk to you about respecting your authorities.”
“Alright Brandon… it‘s really ok to come out, we wont let anything happen to you.”
“That‘s right Brandon, I am sorry that I tried to hurt you, but I am sure you can understand how hard it is to keep yourself in check when you have the primal instincts of a wolf and a man inside you. The police will keep me at bay while we have a little chat.”
Unsure of what was really going on, Brandon just stood in his hiding place, thinking that if he did come out, the four would attack him and do their worst. As Brandon stayed where he was, silence filled the house and nothing could be heard, not even the dull white noise from silence. Brandon knew that they knew he would have to come out sooner or later to use the facilities or end up going on himself and giving away his position from the change of scents in the air. Brandon sighed silently, hung his head low and conceded. Opening the door, Brandon stepped out to see his werewolf step-father standing upright along side three rugged and buff policemen. Curious about what was happening, Brandon just stood there and waited for them to explain what was really going on.