258–The Preys And The Predators
Madeline:
It was early afternoon. I wore a white dress and left my hair loose, almost teasing someone, as I wandered through the woods like I had no idea where I was headed.
I did know where I was going. I was not supposed to wander too far, but our targets did not need to know that.
After yesterday, when I convinced Baxter that there was no other way to catch them unless we let them come to us, he finally agreed after a lot of convincing.
He made me promise I would not drift too far and that I would not attack them without warning. I had to wait for him to handle it.
The moment they appeared, I was supposed to leave the area so he could step in.
It was difficult to set this up because we had to convince the girl that we were going out to hunt and that she needed to watch the children.
I was scared, to be honest, because she was not well herself. Still, she told us she would stay with them.
She sat with them inside the shelter, watching as they told each other stories. That was the last thing I remembered before we left.
It had been about twenty minutes. I began to hum loudly, just in case they had not noticed me yet.
I knew Baxter was hiding in one of the largest bushes, waiting patiently.
After nearly half an hour of repeating the same pattern of humming and pretending to search for nothing, I heard rustling nearby.
My heart started to pound. I did not look in that direction at first. Then someone finally stepped out from behind a large tree.
“Are you okay there?”
The voice startled me so badly that I flinched.
“Hey, I did not mean to scare you,” the man replied.
I turned toward him slowly, my anxiety growing. I knew it immediately. This was one of the men.
I could have been wrong, because it was just one man. She had said there were three.
He had dirty blond hair, and his blue eyes were red at the corners.
His lips were chapped, but he wore a jacket, gloves, and shoes, everything to protect himself from the cold.
While I examined him, he examined me in return.
“Wow, they really kicked someone like you out of the pack,” he muttered, already realizing I was a rogue.
A bit of hesitation grew inside me.
Usually, when someone looked at me, they remembered the broadcast, but if he had been a rogue long enough, he might not have seen it.
“Yes,” I replied in a soft, gentle tone, and I noticed the way he smirked.
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258–The Press And The Preck
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“You are so pretty. Wow,” he added, sending chills through me as he stepped closer.
“Do you need help?” he asked.
I nodded slightly, clasping my hands in front of my body. Still, I wondered where the other two were.
“When did you go rogue?” he asked, moving closer.
“A few hours ago,” I replied.
He snickered, shaking his head.
“That explains why you look so clean,” he said, stressing the last word, and the hair on the back of my neck stood
“If you really need help, I have a shelter nearby with my friends. You can come and stay with us.”
The moment he offered me a place, I remembered what the woman had told me.
She had said they made it seem like they needed help, but now they were offering me help instead.
She must have told them she had been a rogue for a long time, while they thought I was new. They were picking their victims very carefully.
I turned toward the bush and tucked my hair behind my ear.
That was my signal to Baxter, letting him know I was about to take the final step we had agreed on.
“Actually, no, that is all right. I will leave,” I stated. That was our way of showing them their victim was slipping
away.
Just as I expected, the moment I turned to walk off, he lunged at me, grabbing my arm and pulling me down.
“Huh, not so fast. What is the rush?” he remarked.
This time, he did not hide that he was one of the men the woman had spoken about.
He shoved me to the ground and began to unbuckle his pants. He had no idea what was coming.
Baxter stepped out from the bush behind him and stood there, his breathing loud enough that the man froze and lifted his head, sensing someone behind him.
Slowly, he began to turn.
Before our eyes, Baxter started to transition into his large, wild wolf.
“What the hell are you?” the man grunted, stepping back.
However, his instincts kicked in, and I noticed his veins begin to bulge.
His claws started to grow. He was not going to go down that easily.
Just as the two faced each other, ready to fight, piercing screams of children erupted into the air. It came straight from the shelter.
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