Nicole moaned, clutching her stomach. I could tell the pain was immense. Peter seemed to be able to tell as well, and I watched as he did for her what he had once done for Mike. He moved himself up next to her, forcing her to fall over. This seemed to initiate the change. Then I watched as he kept himself next to her, almost shoving himself into her. It seemed to ease her pain a little.
She transformed in a manner similar to Mike's. First, fur grew all over her, shaggily. Her feet and hands changed shape, and the fur, growing fast, caused all of her clothes to rip off. Mike and I watched with fascination. When the change was complete, she sat back on her haunches and howled, twice as loud as Mike had done, and twice as long. When she finished, there was a pause, and then she started again, and this time Peter and Mike joined in.
(morning)
I think that I was the only one who got a decent night's sleep. When I awoke, it was rather early in the morning, and it was only because of a disturbing dream. There had been a mysterious voice, telling me to "search for my true self," and "beware of anger in the near future." I didn't understand what the dream meant, but when I awoke, I was somewhat frightened, and I had to fight off the urge to scream.
I looked around the room to survey who else was awake. Micky was underneath the covers, with nothing but his curly mop sticking out. Mike was in a similar position, but his neck and head were out. I wondered how Micky was able to breathe with a blanket over his head, but he seemed to manage. So I let them sleep and started out of the room, hungry for breakfast. It was then that I noticed Peter wasn't in the room.
I headed down stairs to make breakfast. I went into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. While it was starting, I decided to check on Nicole. I went over to the room she slept in. Not wanting to walk in on her in case she wasn't decent, I knocked lightly on the door. From behind, I heard an answering moan, and I took that to mean that she was alright, and headed back to the kitchen. It was too early to wake anyone else up. I finished making the pot of coffee, and left it sitting open on the table, hoping the fumes would awaken everyone else. I poured myself a cup and thought about breakfast.
Peter had smelled that smell before. It was a good smell, he knew. But he'd smelled so many smells in the last few months that he couldn't identify it if his life depended on it. Was it food? He was still half asleep, and wasn't sure. But something about the smell lured him awake. Slowly, he opened his tired eyes, still exhausted from the night before. Something had happened... what had it been? His head was still half asleep. Then he remembered. It had been the full moon. He moaned, remembering the awful pain he'd felt. Then he rolled over, pulling the blanket with him. It was kind of cold. And the blanket felt weird. But why? Slowly he opened his eyes and got a view of his surroundings. Then, his eyes jerked open wide. He was lying on the floor of the guest room. And the reason the blanket felt so odd was because he wasn't wearing any clothes. He began to panic. Peter stopped himself from panicking too much. He got up and, wrapping a blanket over his shoulders, tiptoed into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked tired and dirty, so he took a shower.
I decided to make bacon and eggs for breakfast, since there was plenty of both and I could make them easily. While I was making breakfast, I heard the shower downstairs start to run. I assumed Nicole was taking a shower. Whistling to myself, I fixed enough eggs and bacon for everyone, and then sat down to read the paper while I ate my own. While I was eating, everyone else dragged themselves awake. Mike got up and woke up Micky as well. He came into the kitchen, eager for food, and poured himself a cup of coffee.
"Morning, Mike," I said, cheerfully. Mike, who was not in as good a mood, merely moaned in response, drinking up the coffee in hopes that the caffeine would revitalize him. I handed over the front page of the newspaper and began on the comics. I heard the upstairs shower start as Micky got into the shower. It seemed that life was getting back to normal.
The shower downstairs stopped. A few minutes passed and then the door opened. "Mornin'," Mike called toward the shower. There wasn't any response. Mike didn't notice since he had his back turned toward the bathroom, and he was more interested in the paper. I could see, however, that it was not Nicole but Peter who stepped out of the shower, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. My eyes widened, but Mike didn't seem to notice. Peter looked up and I met his eyes. They were wider than mine. I shot him a questioning glance, and he shook his head vigorously. I motioned toward the stairs, then towards Mike, and Peter moved, quickly toward the stairs, and then headed up, careful not to make any noise. Mike remained oblivious, lost in the paper.
But Peter wasn't out of the woods yet. I heard the door to the bathroom upstairs open, and Micky step out.
"Hey, Pete," he called. "Why'd you sleep down there? Or did you sleep at all," he added, winking.
Peter's eyes widened. "Micky...shh," he whispered, but it was too late. Mike had heard. He put down the paper he was reading and looked at me.
"Did he say Peter?" he asked. I nodded. "Did I hear what I thought I heard?" I nodded again. His dark eyes flashed with anger, and he clenched his fists.
"'Mornin' all," Nicole called cheerfully from the bedroom. Mike stood up. She, too, saw the anger in his eyes, and her eyes widened as well. I saw him open his mouth to say something, but before he could, there was a knock at the door. A very loud pounding.
Distracted, Nicole went over and opened the door. Outside stood a tall, muscular teenager and a thin, blond girl.
Nicole took a step back. "What are you doing here?" she asked.
The boy behind the door was at least six feet, and he towered over Nicole.
"I come for what's mine," he said. His accent was even thicker than Mike's.
"What do you mean, what's yours?" I asked. "We've nothing that's yours." He looked up at me, and then looked back at Nicole.
"So this is where you run to hide?" he asked. Micky and Peter came downstairs to see what was going on. Peter was now dressed. "Come on, girl," he said, reaching for her arm.
"No," Nicole said vehemently, pulling her arm away. "I'm not yours and you can't take me home."
He took her arm again. "Don't make me hurt you," he said, entering the house. "You're a-comin' with me."
I exchanged looks with Micky and Peter. Mike walked over to them. "What's the problem here?" he asked. Nicole was trying to take her arm back, and the guy was dragging her away.
"That baby's mine, girl, and that means that you are, too." Mike grabbed her other arm and stepped between them.
"I don't think so," he said. The guy, surprised, allowed Mike to yank Nicole out of his grasp.
"Oh really?" he asked. "And what makes you think you can stop me?"
I saw Mike flare up angrier than before, and his eyes flashed with even more anger. "Listen boy, she's my sister, and you ain't gonna touch her," he said, accent showing more now due to his emotions.
"Mike, careful," I said. He ignored me. The other guy ignored Mike's advice, and tried to step beyond him. Mike moved to the side and tried to stop him. The boy, thinking quickly, punched Mike in the stomach.
Mike, momentarily disarmed, hunched over, moaning and holding his stomach. The guy stepped beyond him and headed toward Nicole. Peter headed over to Mike.
"Are you okay?" he asked, putting an arm on his shoulder. Mike nodded, weakly.
"My....sister," he moaned. "Peter..I...can't...gotta...please...save....her." Peter nodded.
"It's alright Mike, she'll be okay," Peter said, and turned around. Micky was standing between Nicole and the other guy and dodging his punches a lot better than Mike had.
"Bob, don't do this," Nicole pleaded, near tears. Peter looked at her. He went up behind Bob, knowing that it would have to be his job to save her this time. He placed his hand on Bob's shoulder, meaning to get his attention.
Bob moaned and hunched over in pain, leaving Micky, Nicole, and I in shock. He grabbed his stomach, and moaned. Peter kept his hand on his shoulder, and Bob continued to moan in pain.
"Man, what are you doing?" he asked, near tears due to the pain. Micky, Nicole, and I were too much in shock to do or say anything. Peter let go of his shoulder, keeping his eyes on Bob.
"Get out of here," he said, with a vehemence he didn't usually show. Bob looked up at him. "Get up, get out of here, and never return," he said. Bob stood up and ran out of the front door, taking the other girl with him.
There was a moment of silence. "Petah, what did you do?" I asked. Peter looked up.
"I-I'm not sure," he said. Nicole, relieved, threw herself into his arms. Micky and I watched as their lips met and they indulged themselves in a long kiss.
"Um, Pete?" Micky asked, confused. He shot me a confused look. "Peter? " Peter didn't respond. "Wow, what a kiss," he mused to himself. Then, he looked around the room and up at me. "Where'd Mike go?" he asked.
Later that evening, around seven, there was a noise outside the door. We were all in the living room, watching TV, and didn't notice the noise. Then, the knob turned. We all looked up as the door opened.
Mike stumbled into the room, his face covered with blood. The only thing he wore was a sheet, apparently pulled off of a clothes line, which was also stained with blood. We all got up, surprised, and hurried over to him.
"Mike, what happened?" Nicole asked, shocked.
"Are you hurt?" I asked.
"You're all bloody," Micky observed.
"What happened?" Peter asked.
"I-," Mike turned and looked at Peter. "It's not my blood."
Peter gasped. "What? Whose blood is it? How did it get there? What happened?" Mike just shook his head, sighing.
"I can't remember," he said, looking at the ground. "I don't know what happened, I was too angry," he mumbled.
Peter, Micky, Nicole and I all exchanged worried glances. Then Peter turned to Mike, trying to hide the worry that was etched clearly over his face. "C'mon Mike, you're all covered with blood," he said, and, grabbing one of his arms, helped him up the stairs. I took his other arm, and let him lean on me.
