464Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4awfFyTeuj
‘What the hell of a question is that? "Do you believe in fairy tales?" What am I, two?’ I thought snarkily.
My thoughts must have been written all over my face because Sebastian giggled at the face I made.
"Um, well," I started, "I used to believe in fairy tales, but that was a long time ago."
"Then you know that fairy tales are based off of some sort of truth, no matter how minuscule it is. Some are believed to have been created from legends or spiritual beliefs, you know?" Sebastian questioned.
I shook my head, my eyes intent on his while I kept listening to his story like a child being read her favorite book.
"Let's use Little Red Riding Hood as an example. The first published version of it was in the 17th century. Then, more and more variations of the story started being released as time went on. The only part that remained the same was that Little Red Riding Hood was approached in the woods by a wolf whom she engages in conversation with. Using our common sense, we obviously know that wolves can’t talk to humans, nor any other animal for that matter. However, what if it was actually possible?” His eyes glinted with a burning hope and passion. “That there was a link between man and wolf, so strong that they could communicate with each other like their own kin. So powerful that man could easily shift to a wolf and back.”
I interrupted him. "Like werewolves?"
"Exactly. Wouldn’t that make the tale more believable?" He smiled and gave my hands a quick squeeze, obviously happy that I could follow his line of logic.
"Okay, but what about them going crazy during a full moon and shifting?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Good question, Veronica. Folklore tells us that werewolves are half man, half wolf. When the full moon approaches them at its peak, man would shift into a vicious werewolf and go on a killing rampage."
"Correct.” I nodded.
"What if werewolves did exist, lived amongst unknowing humans and protected the town from undesirables and attacks instead of killing everything in sight?"
I sat down, enshrouded by my own thoughts for a second. I knew for a fact I was not a fan of wolves. If that were the case though, I was sure it wouldn't be an issue especially if they didn't know.
"If that were true, it would be a little scary, but not difficult to deal with if people did find out," I said, the gears in my mind turning, still taking in all this history information.
“How do you feel towards wolves?" Sebastian asked, leaning in a little closer and rubbing his fingers over my hands.
Taking a deep breath in, I decided to tell him everything about my attack. His face paled at certain parts and I could see anger growing inside him.
"Can you describe this wolf to me?" He asked through gritted teeth.
"He was grey and white, like a normal wolf," I concluded, scratching the side of my head trying to think of anything else.
"No weird markings on him or scars?" He pressed.
The more I thought about my encounter, the more I had to close my eyes to try and remember it's appearance a little better. Slowly, the image of the wolf came to focus and I concentrated on its facial features.
"He had a long jagged scar running down on the right side of his face. Some of the fur around his eye was missing too," I said, opening my eyes back open to rid the ugly beast from my mind. "It's eyes were solid black."
A sudden breath escaped his mouth, and he ran his fingers through his hair. I could tell his mind was jumping all over the place as he began getting fidgety.
"Why are you asking me all these questions?"
Sebastian obviously knew something I didn't and it was starting to bother me. Grabbing his cup off of the table, he walked over to the sink and carefully placed it inside. He turned around slowly, leaning against the counter top and crossing his arms.
"Werewolves attacked you that night," He said quietly in a serious tone.
I stared back at him, my eyes wide. Then, hysteria kicked in, and I choked on my own laughter, as Sebastian’s expression grew more stony. His jaw twitched, his eyes intensely on mine, expression stoic. When the hysteria faded, I opened my mouth to let out the most witty retort I could ever think of. “And how do you know this? You’re Red Riding Hood’s friend?”
His expression did not change. Calmly, he strolled over to the table, placing his hands on the edge. Even now, his eyes were clear and unsmiling as they studied me intensely. “You want to know how? Because I am one."
