Fang House

Chapter 1: Introduction

          Every story no matter how big or how small, how dynamic or how boring, how inspiring or how depressing has a beginning. The beginning to every story sets the tone moving forward. Some stories are goofy and happy and you know what you’re getting. Others are youthful and free, but with an ominous feel. Regardless; they all begin. So why did my story have to begin at Fang House. In the rain. And the cold. And what does it say about the rest of my journey? 

          I watch as the large, dark, Gothic building comes into view. I know this is the place I’ll be calling home for the next year until they deem me an adult and either release me to the world or transfer me to the loony bin. Now I know your probably thinking ‘Oh this poor guy is crazy’ but sadly I am not. If I was, being in a place like this would make a lot more sense. But no. I am sane, I am depressed, I am beaten, and I am bleeding. The town car stops and the driver with all his gazelle quickness gets out of the car and opens my uncles door, holding the umbrella over his head. I on the other hand have my door opened by the bear in a snug suit with a gun. I am unceremoniously thrust into the frigid December rain with only my t-shirt and jeans on clutching my overstuffed backpack, feeling the wind sting my bleeding lip.

          Glancing up at the buildings front I see glowing eyes in all varieties of shapes and colors. We walk up the stairs and I see someone walking to meet us. Opening the doors I halt in my tracks, but I’m the only one. The scent of fear and desperation fills my nostrils and my tail lashes about as my paws begin to shake. It’s the same sensation you would get hearing a blood curdling screen, but at least then you’d have a better chance of knowing who caused the scream and why. This. This was just plain terrifying. The rough bear urges me forward with a sharp glance backwards and I hurry to close the distance; although I’m not sure what I’m more afraid of right now this place or him. I suppose him, since his meaty paw is the reason for my bloody nose and lip.

          Talking to my uncle is useless. He’s more concerned with the family name then his poor bastard of a nephew, so I stand quietly as he and an abnormally tall weasel head into an office where nothing can be heard once the latch clicks. This does not help my uneasy feeling. My mind ponders making a break for it. If I could get outside to the woods they would lose my scent within ten minutes. I scan around to make sure I don’t see any hounds or other abnormally powerful sniffers around as that would ruin my idea. I could outrun the bear, my uncle, the weasel, and the… oh right. The gazelle, Gabriel, my uncles only driver and well let’s just say I let my plan die as it forms a dark pit at the bottom of my stomach while I glance at his abnormally sharp horns.

          The longer we stand the more anxious I become and smell. It’s making both Gabriel and Zeek, the bear, nervous and they eye me wearily as if I’m a caged animal. I basically am. Suddenly the door opens causing me to jump. My uncle strides out with a smug grin on his face in all of his leopard glory; spots shining against his black suite with white shirt. Time moves in slow motion as he snaps his claws and the three of them recede to the car. A: leaving me behind, and B: without so much as a glance in my direction. I’m suddenly all alone. Cold. And very afraid as the doctor approaches me with three large stone faced wolves whispering it will all be alright. In that moment I doubt I will ever be alright again.

          The next thing I feel is a sharp hard stick and rough claws holding me as I scream in agony and then… nothing. Everything goes black. Well at least I’m no longer in the cold and the rain right?