END HER TYRANNY

Chapter 3 | Flee From the Unknown

"What is a DC Patrol?"

Calamity was guided into a homely kitchen. Counters lined the walls with a large square island in the middle. Black cabinets hung over the glimmering greyish marble.

The teenage boy yanked back the navy blue curtains over the large double sink.

A chain attached to her collar rested around her shoulders uncomfortably. Her bare, calloused feet left dirty imprints on the perfect pine wood floors. Whenever Calamity raised her arms- she would get a heinous whiff of the stench from her armpits.

Though, from the reactions of others, there was a lot she wasn't smelling.

"Denwen Convention Patrol." Blaine told the she-wolf hurriedly. She shut the curtains of windows in the adjacent living room in view of the kitchen. 

She brushed her hands on her pants and approached Calamity. Her nose wrinkled due to her stench, "A patrol of werewolves that protect humans and defenseless werewolves from rogues." The alpha female explained, "They could probably smell you for miles."

Calamity snarled, "Can we get off the topic of my fucking stink?" She hissed, "It's bumming me out."

Blaine sighed and rubbed her face. Her son fidgeted with his shirt, "What's 'bumming out' mean?" He asked tentatively.

"It means it fucking sucks."

The black-haired she-wolf ran her fingers through her hair, "Okay, listen-" She breathed in, "You shouldn't even be... conscious. Humans won't be able to even recognize you're a rogue in this state."

She clenched her fists and shook her head- her mohawk bouncing. "Rogues aren't even that common- why the hell is this so important?"

Noah clenched his teeth and winced, "Oh, god..."

His mother throws him a harsh look. The teen immediately understood the message and hooked his arms behind his back- peering away anxiously.

Booms shook the air of the home. The front door rattled on its hinges- its wood creaking in pain as fists rasped against them brutally. It was not a steady knock but a demanding pound screaming with authority and urgency.

"DC POLICE!" A heavy, deepened voice roared from the outside, "OPEN UP! WE SMELL A ROGUE IN THIS HOME."

Her heart began to pound. She'd never heard of the Denwen Convention until now- but fear for its reality shook her core.

When she gaped her lips to speak- a hand was pressed against it.

The mother leaned into her ear, "Not a word. Wolf hearing." Her words were barely audible above the raspy whispers.

Calamity nodded in understanding.

Werewolves have excellent hearing- saying anything would immediately alert them. It was a rare moment where she hated that werewolves existed.

The mohawked woman was herded out of the kitchen and toward a bathroom. The door was a shiny matte black- standing out from the white walls surrounding it. A tall 5-foot fig plant in a black pot sat beside the entrance.

On a calendar above a hallway table, Calamity noticed the date—November 3rd, 2044.

Noah pushed her inside the modern bathroom before she could think. Her anxiety elevated tremendously- the small space and unnerving situation worsening everything.

A double sink with white marble tops was attached to the wall. A mirror spanned the entirety with it- a navy blue matt on the floor.

She saw the toilet had a bidet built into it. The motion sensor made the interior of the toilet glow blue.

The door was shut behind her. She spun around and quietly locked it- her hands trembling with anxiety. 

Backing away from the door- the brunette listened to the front door creak open. 

Brand new scents flooded the home. Calamity managed to notice 4 or 5 separate scents- severely outnumbering her.

"An honour- Mrs. Lycoris." A deep voice muffly spoke, "Unfortunately we've picked up on a rogue in your house."

"In my house?" She responded, "That can't be true..."

Another voice spoke up, "Well, we need to check anyway. We wouldn't want it to hurt anyone or spread its infliction."

Blaine cleared her throat, "... Alright."

The chained female pressed herself against the furthest wall. She gripped the chain hanging from her collar tightly- the invasive scent of the patrol swarming through the door's cracks more and more as they entered the home.

Heavy footsteps echoed. The light chatter and mumbles were left in translation.

She whipped her head in every direction- desperate for an exit. Her shaky blue eyes landed on a window above the back wall she was pressed against.

She steps onto the closed toilet with little hesitation and pushes the window up. 

The scents behind the door were stronger than ever. She distinctly heard the sounds of sniffing and hums- their interest stuck to her.

Calamity hopped up on the windowsill. The squat window would require her to squeeze herself through- but that wouldn't stop her. The woman's bruised wounds whimpered and ached.

"Smells like it's coming from here." A feminine voice said on the other side of the door. "No idea how a rogue could've gotten into here- though."

She wiggled through the window- uncomfortably squashing her breasts and hips through the small window.

Calamity winced in pain.

"If a raccoon can get in, then a rogue can." A deep voice said, "Knock the door down."

She fell out the window. The woman landed in a bush- which ruffled and scratched her. Calamity barely shielded her face from being collateral damage.

Just as she fell out, the door in the bathroom was smashed in.

Getting onto her feet- she bolted through the side-house pathway and into the forests of Washington.

"THROUGH THE WINDOW, THROUGH THE WINDOW!" A deeper voice roared- his voice no longer muffled.

Her heart pounded- bare feet slamming into the earth. Pebbles stabbed into the soles of her feet, but nothing could stop her. Fight or Flight had come roaring in.

Calamity darted into the distance.