Chapter 7 | An Unwilling Visit

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The cold metal itched her reddened wrists

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The cold metal itched her reddened wrists.


Calamity is lightly pushed into a see-through elevator. The doors slid shut quietly, a quiet ding following before a patrol member pressed a nine-belied button.

Open and long balconies from each flow had hanging foliage- most spider plants.

The bottom floor had tall pots with small trees and a fountain in the middle with live fish, lilies, and duckweed. 

"I don't remember the pack house being this big." Calamity blurted in the crowded elevator.

Neith folded her arms and leaned toward her, "I think it's because there's no need to hide them anymore," She reasoned, "Gives architectures more reason to bump up the budget, make it pretty, and make it bigger."

The beta-son sipped from a metal water bottle, "More room for an infirmary, medical, canine affair offices, and other types of bullshit."

Calamity felt the elevator come to a slow and fluid stop- the doors dinging in warning before sliding open.

Immediately, they were greeted by a group of four werewolves in white hazmat gear.

White and sterilized suits baggily hung from their nondescript frames. They wore large breathing masks with a large glass window to see out of and tubes connected to oxygen tanks hung from a backpack.

Their gloves were bright international orange with tight tape to connect to the rest of the suit safely.

"Everyone must be separated," a deep male voice warned them, coming from the suited man standing in the front. "We don't know how contagious her lyssavirus may be, considering this unique circumstance."

Agitation and humiliation bubbled from the bottom of her stomach. Her body ached with stress, and a headache swirled around her forehead. She stood still in the middle of the small crowd.

Greyson threw his head back and groaned while Neith raised her eyebrows in concern.

Patrol members were taken out of the elevator one by one. The olive-toned woman didn't leave Calamity's side.

She gazed at her, "We only found out how dangerous it may be on the bus," Neith explained apologetically, "But I didn't expect hazmat suits and oxygen tanks..."

Greyson pushed past two men in hazmat suits and followed a nurse in a suit with a clipboard. They spoke for a short moment before leaving.

"Ms. Denwen," the same man who spoke before greeted her, "I apologize for... this. But we must separate her from everyone and monitor her state."

She sighed and hung her head. "I get it." She nodded. "The last thing we need to risk is a rogue outbreak."

With a tentative look over her shoulder- the Fulani braided woman shuffled out of the elevator and let herself be guided by another suited-up nurse. The duo glided down the same hallway as Greyson.

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