Brotherhood of Cain (Werewolf/Mafia)

Chapter Five: Snitches Get Stitches *

"This life of ours, this is a wonderful life. If you can get through life like this, hey, thats great. But it's very, very unpredictable. There are so many ways you can screw it up." - Paul Castellano

Chapter Five

Ethel's POV

 Opening my eyes, I blinked at the startling overhead lights at Lance and Park. Every morning at 7 AM on the clock the lights were turned on, despite the overwhelming protest. Then we were all ushered like cattle into the cafeteria. Groans and sleepy yawns echoed around me, the rustling of sheets filling the air.

Sitting up on the cot, I felt a thin sheen of sweat covering my body. I had managed to snatch a cot when I arrived at the shelter last night. Of course convincing Leanne to let me in had taken another ten minutes of begging. Satisfied I wasn't arriving late due to a binge, she let me in. However, the stink eye she gave me resided in my dreams.

Tycho was curled up at the bottom of the cot, but due to his size he managed to steal half the bed. Leanne always complained about bringing Tycho into the shelter, something about fleas? Though I could guarantee Tycho is cleaner than half of the people here. Besides, she held a soft spot for the scarred dog. His puppy eyes seemed to activate every time she came around, the ham.

Scratching him behind the ear, I worked the last remains of sleep out of my eyes. The shelter had a few old showers that were open for use. After seeing the dirt under my nails and the sweat covering my skin, I decided to head for the showers instead of waiting for food.

Dressed in my jeans from last night and a rumpled shirt, I hefted my suitcase up and pushed through the masses. One of the old main movie rooms was were everyone slept. There were rows upon rows of sterile white cots. They were hideously uncomfortable, but they kept me out of the cold, and for that, I was grateful.

Men and women alike were slipping from their beds and doing a very good imitation of zombies as they all walked to the cafeteria. The smell of sweat and the bitter taint of piss followed in their wake. I learned to ignore the smell and the worn looks in everyone's eyes a long time ago.

Get my shit done and go was the motto.

Posters were scattered along the exposed brick walls of Lance and Park. Things like HELP NEEDED and FREE COUNCIL were written across the bright neon banners. Inspirational quotes were also hung up around the place. Apparently "Hope. Hold on. It'll end" and "Be Strong" were supposed to motivate someone who didn't have a pot to pee in.

I got a few interested glances as I moved through the building. Being a young woman on the streets was dangerous. I was an easy target to anyone who could overpower me. Having Tycho around was reassuring, he scared off most of the losers that felt like hassling me. The knife I kept hidden in the band of my jeans didn't hurt either.

Arriving in the women's showers, I was greeted by one other person. The blonde-haired, little girl looked at me and quickly fled, recently washed. I grabbed a towel in my suitcase, finding an absurd amount of holes in it. Trying not to scream, I quickly stripped and got inside.

The water was lukewarm, washing over my tense muscles and cleansing my skin of the effects of the past few days. The tips of my fingers were red, swollen from the harsh wire from last night. It was one of those injuries that doesn't hurt the day of but comes back the next to give you hell.

Quickly cleaning my hair, I snatched a pair of black jeans out of my suitcase. Mud had managed to dry on them, but at this point, I was too tired to care. When I finally found a shirt without holes, I was grateful, despite it being two sizes too big. Grabbing my pair of battered boots, I laced them up.