"What are you up too?" Harold asked. He was leaning against a brick wall, just down the street from Jenny's house. Today he had an entire red attire on, with red slacks, suit, white shirt, and red shoes. Hilary was wearing what she wore the other day, except the dress was even dirtier and torn in places. She was sitting on the corner of Franklin Street. Behind them was a set of apartment buildings made of red bricks. They were typical buildings with stoops, black doors, white framed windows; all compacted together. Hilary was rummaging around in a tiny, old, red, basket woven purse.
The purse was complete with a button strap lock, and a basket interior. "I'm fishing for my teleportation device, so we won't have to just heave ho our way up the mountain again." she replied. Harold sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his left forefinger and thumb. Cars ran by them, most of which stopped for a few moments to flip them off, or swear at them. One even had the decency to get out of his car and slap Harold's face. It took all of his energy to not kill the man, but Harold let him go. "Hilary, we've been sitting here for nearly an hour! Can we please just walk up there?!" He was beginning to get aggravated by her. "If you wanna walk yourself up, then by all means do so. I want to just teleport up; I'm too lazy to walk, especially at my age."
Harold groaned, running both hands over his smoothed hair. A sigh escaped him, while he looked down the road to his left. There was a caged area, in between a couple of buildings. Not knowing what the exact purpose was, Harold just ignored it. Instead he averted his gaze to directly in front of him. Other than Hilary just ram sacking her purse, there was a smaller street; again, lined with houses and apartment buildings. Down the road he could just make out something that looked oddly peculiar. Two people were exchanging items with each other. The guy on the left, wearing a black t-shirt, black shorts and black shoes handed over money.
The guy on the left was wearing practically the same thing, except it was blue with a jersey instead of a t-shirt. He handed over a bag; Harold assumed that it was drugs, so he just looked quickly down at his feet. One of the boys in the exchange must have noticed Harold looking because the guy in blue began walking over to them. He was stashing the money in his pocket, and started to shout at them. "HEY MAN, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN LOOKING OVER HERE?!" When the boy was up close, Harold could see that he was white. His face looked like a horse, with bucked teeth, crooked nose and huge eyes. His teeth stuck out of his upper lip, shaped all crooked and stained yellow.
Every time the boy would open his mouth, his rancid breath almost caused Harold to upchuck. Harold placed his left hand over his mouth, and nostrils, then replied in a semi-muffled voice. "I wasn't looking, I swear." The boy just shook his head, "That's a load of bull! Look me in the eyes and say you didn't see what just happened down there." He got up in Harold's face, showing off his brown eyes and greasy brown hair. Harold could see sweat stains all over his shirt, as well as what appeared to be dark stains all over his shorts. "I'm talkin' to you! Tell me you didn't see that event that occurred down the street!" His breath was so overwhelming now, which made Harold back off more; the back of his head was now on the brick.
"I ain't gonna ask you again man; did you or did you not SEE WHAT HAPPENED?!" Harold shook his head. The boy just turned his head, shaking it furiously, making random noises. He ran his hands over his hair, ruffling it up. It was so greasy that it acted like a styling gel and stayed up completely. Harold was disgusted by this, however; he hid his expression well. "I already answered you; no I haven't." The boy didn't believe him, so he slammed his hands against the walls, on each side of Harold's head. He couldn't have looked any more furious and yet, to Harold, more stupid. "Is the little baby mad? Is the little baby gonna cry?" he egged him on.
Meanwhile, Hilary was still whipping through her purse, trying so hard to find the teleportation device, but to no success. "ARE YOU TEMPTING ME MAN?! I'D HATE TO GET ALL ROUGH ON YOU, BUT IF YOU KEEP PUSHING ME, I WILL NOT HAVE ANY CHOICE!" He yelled with such a wide mouth that spit flew all over Harold's face. He wiped it away, rubbing it between his fingers and then looked into the boy's eyes. "If you don't leave me boy, I will not have any choice but to make you leave." Harold said. The boy pushed himself away from the wall, appearing to be walking away.
He turned, yelling while throwing a left punch to Harold's face. Harold dodged to the side, using his wolfish speed, making the boy smack the brick with full force. He screamed, pulling his arm back. When he finally was able to lift it, the boy couldn't believe how swollen his hand was. It was double the size of his right and still swelling. The skin turned all red, and veins pulsed furiously in it. The boy looked at Harold, with such a ferocious stare.
Harold turned for a few moments, not noticing the boy pulling a magnum out of his back pocket. He heard the gun click, as the bullet was loaded into the barrel. Harold's eyes shot open, fear piercing his heart. He knew he had to act quickly. "I'm going to spill your brains all over this here pavement man. I swear to God!" Harold whipped his body over to his left, just as a bullet shot out. He grabbed the boy's wrist and flung his right arm up towards the boy's elbow. There was a disgusting snap, as the ligaments in the elbow separated. His hand was facing the ground and elbow bent inward at a near ninety degree angle. He started to cry, and ran down back down the street, caressing his broken arm with his swollen hand.
"Ah HA! I found it." Hilary shouted out. Harold watched as she pulled out a square box that had the skull and circle symbol on it. "I've imbued this particular symbol with the ability to transport us anywhere we want. The only catch is; you have to give a little blood to it each time. So go ahead, cut yourself and drip a few blood drops on it. I've already added mine after I stabbed my finger with a pin." "Are you crazy?! Why would I cut myself, willingly?" Harold said, throwing his hands up in the air. "If you want an easy way up to that damn mountain, you're going to cut yourself." Hilary replied. She held the box over to him, which he rolled his eyes at, then took a small dagger from his back pocket, sliced his right thumb, and let the blood drip onto the symbol.
"There; you happy now?" he asked. "Absolutely! Now just hold on. The blood will automatically grab you when I go to move." Hilary assured him. "I'll take your word for it; I hope." Hilary laughed, "Take us to the mountainside cave, which watches over Philadelphia." she told the pendant. It glowed bright red, and then suddenly she and Harold dissolved, and re appeared in the mouth of the cave. Harold felt slightly light headed but other than that, he was fine. He groped around for the right side cave wall, and once he felt it, slid down onto his butt and held his head. "That dizziness will go away within a few moments Harold; you'll get used to it, I promise." Hilary walked past him, towards the far end of the cave, next to the cauldron.
"I don't know how you even stand doing that all the time. My God; I mean, my head is just spinning right..." "Shh!" Hilary interrupted him. Harold looked over at her, still holding his head. "What is it?" "Shush!" Hilary waved him off. "Fine." Harold replied, waving his hands at her. "GOD, JUST... SHUT UP ALREADY!" Harold cowered away from the yelling, turning his gaze out towards the town. "Alright, I'm sorry about that but I needed complete concentration." Hilary said. She turned around, looking directly at Harold. "What's wrong?" Harold asked half interested, as he watched cars cruise down the streets. He folded both arms, crossed his left leg over his right and continued to take in the amazing sights of the city.
"I got wind of something important. The symbol..." "WHAT ABOUT THE SYMBOL?!" Harold yelled back, finally whipping around. He looked directly into Hilary's eyes with such bottled up anger, that it pierced her soul. She could see specks of yellow forming in his irises, making her draw a bit away from him. "W-what do you mean Harold?" She asked, still cowering away from him. "What do you mean, what do I mean? I think I was pretty damn specific with you Hilary! Why is that symbol so important?! WHAT'S THE POINT BEHIND IT?!" He reached up, pulling at his hair and ripping out large chunks of it. "I-I can't t-t-tell you..." She winced, knowing what was going to happen next.
"WHY IN THE GOOD GOD'S NAME CAN'T YOU TELL ME?! THIS WHOLE TIME I'VE BEEN DOING AS YOU REQUESTED, I INFECTED PHILLIP WARBURTON. I JOINED YOUR PATHETIC ARMY, JUST SO I COULD SAVE MY OWN SKIN! I'VE DILIGENTLY WORKED UNDER YOUR NOSE FOR YEARS NOW; YEARS! AND STILL, YOU HAVE YET TO EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THAT SYMBOL MEANS, AND HOW YOU GOT IT!" Harold stopped for a while, breathing hard. Hillary just shook her head, looking a the floor. "Harold, you don't understand; if I tell you about the origins of this symbol, I can very well lose a lot. I saved you because I wanted to give you a better life; don't you see?" Hilary walked over to him, after dropping her purse at the cauldron. He watched as she got nearer to him, turning his back on her.
"Harold, I know that you're angry; hear me out, please?" she asked him. Her arms were outstretched, trying to grab onto his. He shook them off, scowling at the city, while still listening to Hilary's voice. "I have studied lycanthropy ever since I was a little girl. Hell, half the reasons why my father would beat me was because of that. He was ashamed of me and punished me for something he created. You can probably see why I turned my back on God. Where was he when my dad was hacking away at me with a nailed board huh? Where was the almighty GOD, when my father would whip me time and time again, until my damn spine was showing?! I turned to this magic shortly after..." Hilary trailed off. "After what?" Harold asked. She waved him off, stroking her chin. It had been years since Hilary joined the cult and at the time, she didn't know what she was getting into. Ever since that fateful day, she felt like a drone.
She stayed silent for a few more minutes, to recollect her thoughts. This gave Harold the opportunity to retort. He spun around, leaning against the wall once more, and talked slowly and as calmly as he could muster. "I've been infected with this disease for fifty nine years! I've infected another innocent human being and in doing so infected his young daughter. Do you have any idea; ANY IDEA, how hard it is for me to sleep at night, knowing that I did that? HUH, DO YOU?! Seeing that girl go through such drastic changes tears my heart into millions of pieces. I hate doing what I do, why couldn't you just let me die?!" Harold asked. He turned back around and sat on the floor, trying to block out Hilary's voice but failing to do so. Hilary sighed, frustratingly rubbing her temples. Her eyes were closed, and mouth pursed with annoyance.
"What I figured out, was immaculate Harold. I don't even know how to describe to you the benefits of lycanthropy without talking about it for days on end. I'll bring it down to basics for you however. Lycanthropy is absolutely needed for the human race." Harold looked over towards the skyscrapers, watching planes and helicopters fly by them. Birds chirped nicely off in the distance, while dogs barked loud in their yards. He did hate what he had become, even though he knew Hilary's intentions were in the right place. "What I'm trying to say here is that Lycanthropy can be the solution to all mankind's problems. Think about it for a second! You heal instantly no matter when you get hurt; if you're in werewolf form or not, correct?" Harold grunted in return.
"Well, you haven't ever gotten sick since you had this disease, right?" again Harold grunted. "Lycanthropy has some special attribute to it, so to speak. It... it's the reason for sickness being eliminated. I've discovered all these perks in a book, when I was younger, and they seem to be true. And do you know what else I found out?" Harold cleared his throat again, "What's that?" he asked. "I found out that this disease can even cure cancer, and the reason I know that so well Harold is because... you were dying of it. The moment this disease coursed your veins, the cancer disappeared and you were healthier than everyone in your family, were you not?" "Of course, but still..." Hilary waved his words off.
"But nothing Harold. I cured that disease that was eating away at your body, by replacing it with an even hungrier disease. This curse ate at your cancer until it didn't exist anymore and in return it requires a transformation every month. It's called equivalent exchange. In order to get this life saving gift, you must allow it to tap into it's raging instincts every month. For if you don't, it will eat you alive, and I promise you that." She walked over and sat in front of Harold now, grabbing a hold of his hands. He let her do it then stared into her eyes. "I know this is the right thing to do. A world of werewolves is a world full of healthier human beings. And when the werewolves are in their beast form, they do not get the urge to attack each other. You can all live in peace, away from pain, away from suffering; a better life for everyone, don't you see that?" She was smiling now, trying to get him to return it. He smiled back, bearing his teeth and groaned.
"You know, you always had a way with words Hilary. That's why that night, you were able to convince me to join your cause. And in all fairness, it does make a lot of sense." He admitted, nodding his head at her. "You see?! It's the best solution any person could ever think of. I; no, we can single handedly save the human race, with this infection. All we need is some help and that's going to require Jennifer Warburton, and her father; Phil." Harold could sense a bit of confusion in the stare that he received, as well as some fear. Regardless, he hugged Hilary, whispering in her ear. "Thank you for saving me." he said. "You're welcome! Now let's save the world; together." Hilary replied. They were both hugging each other so hard, that their blood was getting cut off.
Outside the sun was beginning to set, making Philadelphia look dark and dank. Harold gazed out at the buildings that he loved so much as he always did, thinking hard about Hilary's words. "When do we start recruiting?" he asked her. Hilary let go of him, stood up and beckoned him to follow, waving her pointer finger while walking.
"What are we looking for?" Harold asked her. "Don't you see the images in the water Harold?" Hilary asked him. He shook his head. "I can see them clearly. It's showing the kids that were recruited. They're all dead, and I also see Jennifer handing the sword over to you. Mark my words Harold, things will come together in time; we start advertising tomorrow. Let's get some rest, I know we'll need it." She snapped the fingers on her right hand, making the cauldron die down, and stop simmering. "Alright, tomorrow is the day we start to plan. The stepping stone on the way to a perfect human race; a Lycanthropy Army." Harold said.
Before either of them could sleep however, Hilary's mind struck an idea. She got to her feet, and ran to the back of the cave. "What is it now?" Harold asked her, turning to see what she was doing. It was hard to tell, since she was covered mostly in shadow. He could only make out her arms and feet moving around every so often. "HA, there it is!" she exclaimed. Hilary walked back towards Harold, holding a stack of blue papers. She handed him one, which he read silently. All that it said was: School of Lycanthropy, come to the shack of you want to learn. He looked up at her; his eyebrows furrowed. "How is this going to help?" he asked her. "I will explain it to you momentarily Harold. Quiet now, so I can concentrate." Hilary replied. Harold scowled and waited, as Hilary stood in silence.