Only a few corners separate Shadow from the Science Classroom—the only place she’ll be safe. Although she's being hunted by a much faster creature, fortunately, wolves don’t wear sneakers. More than once, she hears the enormous beast crash into a wall behind her as it loses its grip on the hard tile floor, unable to turn the corners at full speed. Still, he’s gaining on her.
She darts down the last, long, dark corridor, gathering her remaining energy for a final sprint toward the science classroom door at the end. If she can just reach the door handle, she'll be safe. She ignores the sharp pain in her side where the wheelbarrow hit her and for a brief moment, she believes she's going to make it, but then—much too soon—she hears the enormous beast rounding the corner, slipping, crashing, and then accelerating again. The rhythmic ticking of its nails on the tiles draws closer and closer at an alarming speed. She won’t make it; she can feel it.
Suddenly, in a completely unexpected move, she stops hard and rolls to the side. The wolf, unable to halt in time, shoots past her at full speed, skidding as if on ice, tumbles over, but then masterfully recovers, landing on all fours in perfect control, facing her. She reaches for the door handle but before she can reach it, an enormous weight crashes down on her, slamming her to the floor.
The magnificent animal looks her straight in the eyes. He’s so close now that she can see her own reflection in his steely gray gaze. The enormous mouth, filled with razor-sharp teeth and a bright pink tongue hanging out, is only centimeters away from her face. She struggles to free herself, but when the wolf places a second paw on her chest, she has to yield.
Her voice is soft and controlled. “Go on, then. Bite. Let it be over with.” She may be afraid, but she hates being toyed with. As a child, she could watch a lion kill a zebra without blinking, but watching a cat toy with a mouse for hours before killing it—that she just can’t stomach. Let this be quick, she thinks. When it’s time, it’s time. The wolf tilts its head and licks its nose, still not making a sound except for his breathing.
“Well, come on, then. Or do you have to bring me to your boss, like a good little puppy?” Finally, a growl escapes the wolf’s throat, accompanied by a slight twitch of his mouth. That is it, she thinks. His pride; maybe if she insults him enough and makes him angry, he’ll make a mistake. It’s a long shot, but she has to try.
“Be a good boy then. Sit, roll over, play dead, fetch the ball… and maybe you get a cookie.”
His eyes light up in the dark as his head moves closer. His breath smells of toothpaste, which is as surreal as it is comforting. She knows she can’t stop now, but before she can say another word, the pressure on her chest lifts as his head suddenly jerks back, as if pulled by an invisible rope. She sits up, but before she can make a run for it, her eyes are involuntarily drawn to the most fascinating—and terrifying—thing she has ever seen. The wolf-like body begins to transform, shifting into something else. The change happens so fluidly and quickly that it’s hard to follow, yet she recognizes it instantly, recalling fragments from her youth: old movies projected by rickety projectors onto dirty bed sheets in refugee camps, and later, that iconic music video where a boy transforms into a werewolf. She had taught herself to dance by watching that video.
Although this was a real wolf, it looked eerily similar. The hair growing out of his ears, face, and arms, the nails growing longer and sharper, the joints distorting—all things from the movies, but in reverse, making it even more unsettling. He doesn’t make a single sound, though it must be incredibly painful, and before she knows it, the man she saw just 15 minutes ago outside is now standing before her. The only difference: he’s completely naked. She feels her cheeks flush and curses her Puritan upbringing as her mind scrambles for a way out. The class room is only a few meters away... and then the man speaks.
“I must apologize, Miss... Masulah, is it?” His voice is warm and human, with only a hint of a growl at the edges. “Nature didn’t bless me with the ability to transform my clothes as well. I’m truly sorry.” It’s enough to make Shadow overcome her last traces of shame and look up at him.
“I’ve seen naked men before,” she bluffs, her voice soft but steady. “But I’ve never seen one turn into a wolf.
“There aren’t many of us left… anymore.” A wry, sad smile brightens his face, making him look even more sympathetic, which is not helpful at all. Who is this man? What’s his role?
“Although I sympathize with your situation, I’ll need to take you outside. Orders are orders.”
“But why? I didn’t do anything wrong. Not really.”
“Apart from breaking into the school... twice?” he replies, with a hint of irony in his voice. “But I agree, this whole show of power is a bit much for a simple student break-in. We’ll sort it all out once we’re outside again. I have my orders... until I’m told otherwise. But we’re not there… yet.” His voice is calm and professional, though his eyes light up for a moment, as if he can’t wait for that time to come. “Get to your feet, please.”
Shadow tries but sinks back again; her muscles are too tired. The naked man reflexively bends over in a courteous gesture to help her up, but before she can grasp his extended hand, a deafening crack sounds—like a floorboard snapping against a wall and without warning, the man topples slowly forward and collapses just beside her. From behind him, emerging from the shadows, a dark silhouette appears, holding what looks like two broken chair legs. Although she can’t see his face in the dim light, she recognizes him instantly. How could she not? The man who chaperoned her to her first lesson on her first day of school.
“Morning, Mrs. Masulah. Might I ask you to step into the science classroom? In the meantime, I’ll take care of this,” he says calmly, gesturing to the unconscious body sprawled across the floor. “Regulations, you know. No animals allowed.”