It was just a night of September in DobroČ› village, a village situated not far from the little city named Curtea de ArgeČ™. Tonight I just dropped out of school because I had afternoon classes because I'm in eighth grade, and grades seven and eight have afternoon classes that last from twelve to six in the evening, which is eighteen if it's to be precise. I go to school in the city of Curtea de ArgeČ™, which is almost four kilometers from the village where I have lived for a long time, and the school is still two kilometers from the city, so about six kilometers to school. And to travel from school to home I have two options, the first is to have the bus, which costs no more than three lei, which means almost a dollar in America, almost ninety cents in Europe, and seventy-five comma eighty-five yen in Japan. A rather low cost for some, but a high one in Romania. With this money, you can even buy a portion of ramen, pate, Leys chips, Chio, a dose of Coca-Cola, or something else that an eighth-grade child drinks with little money.
To get home I have to go to a dam, which is guarded by two dogs, Puta and Patroclus. I get along very well with these dogs because they have known me since I was a child when I came to this dam with my father to ride our bikes. I walk that dam quietly, I pass those dogs, who look at me for no more than three seconds, then go back to sleep. These dogs are certainly tired, or they are old, but anyway, dogs are dogs after all. I always thought that dogs attack people because they are hungry, but in fact, they bark at them as a sign that they are trying to protect themselves. Anyway, if there's a dog that bites me or wants to bite me, I give it a shot, and then I throw some food out of my backpack and run away as fast as I can. At least that's what my brother, Mircea, who now works as a shepherd and studies for the engineering faculty, taught me. I think the thing that taught me was just a joke, but today I was about to take it seriously when I met the one who changed my life as an eighth-grade girl.
After crossing the entire dam, I turn left and take an alley that is not paved at all but has traces of vehicles or cars, which means that there had been a lot of cars that passed and ignored the fact that this part is not asphalted and does not have a bar to lean on if you are drunk, and you take it there, or if you fight with a big one, and it decides to kill you by throwing you into the water from that dam, which is led to the plant hydroelectric plant on the outskirts of Curtea de ArgeČ™.
I walk this road in no hurry just like I do almost every day when I leave school and I think about what my mother prepared for breakfast, I already think about the fact that my dear working mother in a shoe factory that has a ten-hour schedule would have time to cook chicken, but a girl who ate only a Boromir horn with vanilla and rum at school and drank a dose of Pepsi juice can dream of a large and delicious lasagna or apple pie.
I go down the slope and head for the house, which is no more than four houses away. I walk quietly to the house, and then I hear a kind of bang from behind me. I glance back, then notice some kind of big dog speeding towards me. That dog was not a dog but rather a werewolf, because he walked on two paws, wore a pair of torn jeans, had a torn T-shirt, and he had foam on his forehead and was running away from someone who had run him with a crossbow. I, who saw something like this for the first time, panicked and was scared of the place that led to a major change in my life. That werewolf did not bypass me but passed over me as if he were a beetle or an ant, and when he passed over me, he also scratched me with his long claws on my belly.
When that werewolf scratched me, I could see the blood starting to come out of my stomach, and to be honest, this image is not a good one. Now I felt like one of the sheep my brother cuts at Easter to use to create lamb snacks and food. Which in my opinion is not good if you are like me, a person who can not stand to eat animal meat.
Well, that werewolf passed over me and didn't stop walking. But the person who had run the werewolf, and who motioned for me to step aside, and I didn't listen, stops next to me. He notices the wound on my stomach, this person does something I never expected, spits on the wound with green-yellow saliva then continues his hunt without saying anything. If that spit wasn't some kind of healing serum, I'd certainly have yelled at him and used more swearing than my mother uses when arguing with my father on the phone.
After the saliva is doing her weird thing, I observed that the wound is starting to disappear and that feeling of pain, which is good but also disgusting because a man spat on my stomach ... Oh, alas! Now I'm going to be damned not to get married for the rest of my life. However, the man who spat at me did his job, I get up and run home to hide and try to forget that some kind of crossbowman hunts a werewolf, and everyone knows that werewolves don't exist in the world. ours, but they are a myth, a fantasy in fairy tales, or people disguised as people for fantastic movies ... That is, those people are playing an action movie and that werewolf is a human disguised. Yes! It makes perfect logic ... But what about the scratch and how the fact that a stranger spat on my belly.
After a few minutes of intense thinking and analyzing my belly in the mirror, I am deciding to let it go, and forget about that incident. I am going to the kitchen to see if my mother is there, but on my luck, she is not there. If he had, he would probably have asked me why I eat meat that is not made or the fact that I eat meat because the sure kind of meat I eat is chicken, oatmeal, or turkey Patel, the salamis I use for sandwiches and rarely burgers, but not a whole chicken that is taken from the freezer. I was trying to stop eating that chicken, but I couldn't, I don't know what the reason is, but someone responded to my behavior, and that someone was the hunter, who looked at me while I was pulling that frozen chicken. While I was a kid, that hunter didn't say anything and I didn't even notice him, but he told me that he followed me eating that chicken one day when I went on my first date ... which didn't happen very soon.
That man knocks on my window, I quickly look at that window and I go to the chick that was half-eaten to one side, and then I open the window terrified. That hunter didn't look disgusted, on the contrary, he looked around to make sure he wasn't seen by anyone and told me.
"Look! I am sorry for what I did, little girl. It was my fault and all, but I can ensure you there is nothing wrong with you."
"Really? Then can you explain... HOW THE HELL DID I EAT A CHICKEN BODY?!" I shout at that hunter who ruined my life, but also made it more interesting for me.
"Oh... Well..." says the hunter being nervous and scared. "How can I put this?... But... Look. You have become a werewolf."
"A, WHAT?"
"A werewolf, y' know... That huge animal who is full of hair on his body and all..."
I looked at my hands and I could see they are not with hair, or I have claws, but after a second, I started to scratch my neck, and there I could fell some hair growth. The hunter who was looking at me scared takes an injection, and he literally throws it into my arm. I don't know what was in that injection, but the next day, I woke up in my room and have no problem. No transformation. No hair on my special woman zones. And no instincts to eat raw meat, just a werewolf hand... Wait!? A werewolf hand?!
And that's how I became a werewolf who is protecting this city from a creature like that wild werewolf, ghosts, demons, criminals, and other things who could kill anyone, together with Jacob, the ghost who is my classmate in High school, Alexandra, a vampire who works in the library which is our team headquarters, Travis, an invisible man who is just working as a trucker to give us some income because hunting monsters and bringing justice is not helping that much in profit, and Hengar, the leader of 5th Hunters Team of Romania.