"Wake up Jake
Jake opened his eyes slowly and stared at the bright light shining above. He jumped up, suddenly aware of the surrounding. The sun was shining brightly in the sky and the winds blew gently, carrying along debris and fallen leaves all the way. Jake spun around confused, wondering how he had slept back at home and woken up by the side of a road. Little children skidded along the road, their shoes having lots of tyres on them and they all stared at him as they skidded past as though he was from a 17th century collection and some even pointed at him.
"What's he wearing?" he heard them murmur.
"Looks like a 18th century farmer" another laughed.
"Think he slept on the road…oh the cold," one said.
"Still doesn't explain why you're dressed up like an old farm boy."
They all laughed and Jake stared at his clothes wondering what was wrong about wearing a sweater that big in the cold winter. He ignored them and walked on, wondering where his family house that had been standing on that spot for years, suddenly disappeared to that morning. He walked through an alley and marveled at the sight before him. Tall buildings lined the streets and everyone walked about wearing suits and jackets. Looking at himself, he realized that he was actually the odd one there. His clothes were old and dirty, like they had been stored in an underground pit for years and as the children earlier noticed, they were 19th century fashion. But what year was it really? Wasn't it 1922?
He turned around confused and headed back towards where he had woken up. He had to start from the scratch if he was going to have any clues about where he was and what was going on. Few meters away from where he woke up, he saw a house. It wasn't exactly a big house but compared to where he had lived in all his life with his parents and siblings, it looked like heaven. He walked to the door and contemplated knocking. It seemed pretty quiet inside and he wondered if his parents had decided to surprise him and get a new house overnight. But a house couldn't ever be as quiet as that one was - not with Kris indoors. He waited for a while, hoping someone would notice him and ask him in or something but no one came around. Finally he decided to knock. He knocked at the door three times and waited for a reply. No one came. He knocked again and waited but there was still no reply. He turned around and started to leave but he was blocked by so e boys.
"Yo. Whatcha wearing," one of them said.
"My ma made it for me," he replied, expecting another set of insults for his weird dress sense.
"Ain't talking bout your rags bruh," the biggest of the boys grunted. "What's on your neck?"
Jake looked around confused. "My head maybe?"
The other two burst out laughing and Jake looked on, wondering what exactly was going on.
"Hey smart ass, think I'm joking here huh?" the biggest of the boys said sizing Jake up with his eyes.
"I'm not looking for any trouble," Jake stammered. "Ma says I shouldn't."
"But where's ma now huh?" he cracked his fingers and punched Jake on the face.
Jake fell to the tarred road bleeding from his nose and the boys rushed at him and started tugging the necklace on his neck.
"Come on, let go," they urged him as he struggled with them for the necklace.
"I can't," Jake cried. "Its mine. It was my dad's and it was his dad's before him. You can't take it."
"Well, watch me," the boy said.
He punched Jake hard on the nose till he passed out and he dragged the chain from his neck and turned it over in his hands.
"Silver," he smiled. "This could get me a hundred bucks with a greedy merchant." But the remaining two boys weren't answering him anymore. They were crouched on the ground, staring intently at Jake's limp body on the tarred ground.
"What's it?" he asked. "He dead? We better start moving."
"Not that Kobe" the other replied. "Look at your hands."
Kobe stared down at his hands and then he saw it. The blood from the punch he had given Kobe was all over his hand and clothes. But that was not the problem. The blood was not red as expected. It was black. Shining black.
"What does this mean," he turned to the other two boys.
"I'm not sure," one said standing up. "But I've heard stories."
"What stories?" Kobe asked, eyeing him.
"Never heard the legend?" the boy asked. "Wolfmen."
"Werewolves," Kobe laughed. "Don't tell me you believe all that, Frank?"
"I shouldn't," Frank frowned. "But they say wolfmen have black blood."
"Doesn't matter dumb ass," Kobe grunted, pushing Frank aside to assess Jake who was still crouched low on the ground.
"We should all just go home," the last of the boys suggested.
"Yeah," Frank nodded. "We'll be in a lot of trouble if he is."
Kobe stood up and started towards the pair and they both backed away slowly knowing how dangerous he could be.
"No one leaves here till I say so," he commanded.
"But what if he's really a wolfman," the last boy asked. "He looks weird by the way. Look at his clothes, they're old and worn out."
Kobe chuckled. It was a light and evil chuckle. "There's no such thing as a wolfman, idiots. And even if there was, it wouldn't be a weakling. Look at him, he can't even defend himself."
"I have a bad feeling about this," Frank said. "We could get in big trouble."
"You all are already in big trouble."
The three of them turned towards the direction of the voice and stared down at the blue haired girl standing in their front.
"And who are you?" Brad asked
"Not important," she smiled and pointed towards Jake. "But I'll tell you who he is."
"Go ahead," Kobe grunted impatiently.
"He is Jake Cross, the last living werewolf and he has reincarnated into his father's body."