The doctor and the so-called expert

You went to the small clinic in the west of the town in the morning. Another hour passed before you finally met the doctor you had made an appointment with, Dr. Nathan Jones.

"Mr. Wilson, as far as I can tell..." After spending tens of minutes on necessary examinations, Dr. Jones, a young man with short brown hair, wearing a pair of black-framed glasses, finally put down the device and picked up a pen, frowning, "You're totally healthy."

"Are you sure?" You, sitting on the other side of the desk, asked anxiously.

"The results are all normal. You said you were attacked by wolves, but I haven't found any wounds on your body. I can only assume that you were imagining things under great pressure." Dr. Jones took a deep breath and began to write the prescription, "I'll get you some sedative medicine to help you calm yourself down, in case it happens again. You should also take more rest."

"There’s something I want to add." You thought twice before you continued, “I prefer raw meat after the incident. And sometimes I have this strange urge that makes me want to... uh, get closer to other people.”

Dr. Jones stopped prescribing and looked shocked for a split second, as if he couldn't believe what he heard from you. He quickly regained his composure to look professional, but you noticed that his hand holding the pen was shaking. Something must have stirred his mind so much that he could barely think straight.

"Is there anything wrong?" You asked, noticing his abnormal reaction.

Dr. Jones quickly put down his pen, adjusted his glasses, and **** a smile on his face.

"Nothing. It's just... Well, some changes in diet after a stressful incident are pretty common. And the urge you talked about... It could be the manifestation of your insecurity. Don't worry too much. Just take the sedative and rest well for a couple of days, and everything will get back to normal." He quickly finished writing the prescription, tore it off the pad and handed it to you, "Take this to the front desk. The nurse will give you the medicine."

You took the prescription, still feeling uneasy. You were about to say something, but you saw that Dr. Jones was drawing something on another prescription.

"Although... if the symptoms don't subside... There is a friend of mine living in the nearby forest. Her name is Valerie and she's an expert in this kind of thing." Dr. Jones handed you another prescription, "Good luck, Mr. Wilson."

You took the second prescription and realized that it was a map. It showed a narrow passageway near the motel to the north of the town that led to a cabin in the forest.

"Dr. Jones, what exactly is ‘this kind of thing' you're talking about?" You asked.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing more I can tell you." Dr. Jones leaned his back against the chair and took a breath of relief. He avoided your gaze, his hands folded on the desk as if trying to hide the tremor that still lingered in his fingers.

You tucked the map into your pocket, sensing that Dr. Jones had no intention of saying anything more. You thanked him quietly with a nod and walked out of the examination room.

An expert, huh? I’d better go see her right now.

You drove the car straight towards the motel to the north of the town. The place was quiet. You saw only two other cars here. A few yards outside the parking lot was the entrance to a small passageway leading deep into the forest. That must be you way in.

At around 10 a.m., you walked straight into the woods. This passageway seemed to have been unused for a long time, as the signs were rusty and the railings were broken. A hundred meters in, the road was faintly visible.

Who wants to live in a forest these days? You wondered.

You trod carefully with each step, but still, you went astray several times. Fortunately, it was daytime, and you found your way back onto the right track before getting lost.

It took you more than one and a half hour to finally arrive at the cabin in the forest. It had two stories and was slightly larger than you thought. You took a deep breath and went on to knock on the front door, hoping to get all the answers from the so-called expert inside.

No one answered. You knocked harder and noticed that the door was not locked. You carefully pushed the door open and went inside. All of a sudden you were overwhelmed by a strange bitter smell. You coughed for a few seconds before you began to inspect this place. The room you were in was more like a lab, as there was a whole set of laboratory glassware on the table.

Just when you thought nobody was home, the door behind you shut, and the sound of something being loaded made you stand still.

"Don't move." A mature, sultry female voice came from behind you, "Who are you? Why are you here?"

You slowly put your hands up to show that you meant no harm. "I'm James Wilson. Dr. Nathan Jones sent me here. He told me that I might find help from his friend, Valerie, here." You said this as calmly as possible.

"Turn around." She commanded, and you obeyed.

What you saw was a lady with bright blonde hair slightly hidden under the red hood, holding a large crossbow loaded with a silver bolt and aiming it at you. The gaze from her blue eyes in the shadow was so piercing that you wouldn't dare to move a single bit. She must have been hiding somewhere outside the house, so that she could ambush you like this.

"I'm Valerie Grimm. What kind of help do you wish to find from me?" Valerie hasn't let her guard down yet.

"I think I was attacked by a werewolf." You spoke it out.

Valerie's eyes widened as she was shocked to hear this. She looked you up and down for a few more seconds before she put the crossbow down on the desk next to her. She nodded as a sign for you to continue, so you told her the whole story, from encountering the beast to the irresistible urges. Minus the werewolf sex part, of course. She patiently heard you out.

"You look quite calm, Mr. Wilson. Most people will see that as a dream." She went to the desk, filled two cups with hot water and handed you one.

"Believe me, I've seen worse." You sighed.

"Okay, I'll just get to the point." She took a sip of water and continued, "You were infected by lycanthropy and turning into a lycanthrope, and eventually a werewolf."

You remained silent for a few seconds. The signs were there, and you should say that you had expected this since that was all the myths said. You could hear your heart pounding terribly in your chest, but you didn't have the luxury of time to be afraid.

"How does it spread?" You asked.

"The usual. A bite or a scratch form a werewolf, a lycanthrope, or a carrier." Valerie patiently explained the situation to you, “The disease boosts your regeneration, so that the victims can survive their first encounter. That's why you didn't find the scars when you woke up.”

"I think you need to explain a bit more." You tried to keep up.

"A werewolf is the beast you had encountered. A lycanthrope is what we describe a ‘half-beast'. Victims infected by the disease will transform into a lycanthrope in one or two weeks. They will grow extra hair, sharp fangs and claws, and even a tail. They will fully turn into a werewolf on the next full moon and return to their human form after that. A carrier is what you are right now."

"The urge you talked about comes from the infection. It's a chemical exhaled from your breaths that makes you and the people around you really horny. Engaging in sex reduces the urge, but also helps the carrier to spread the infection when they lose control."

A cold feeling spread through your spine and your heart almost skipped a beat. You remembered that when you were overwhelmed by the urge and had sex with Grace, you bit her lips and scratched her back. You must have infected her already.

"Is there a cure?" You got to the key question. You needed to find a way to save Grace and yourself.

"You seem to have accepted all these quite well." Valerie smiled with admiration.

"Like I said, I've seen worse." You replied calmly, but that didn't make you feel better.

Valerie went to the table holding the laboratory equipment behind you and grabbed 5 small syringes of some transparent liquid. "This is a solution of monkshood, a cousin of wolfsbane. It can fight the lycanthropy infection. These are all I have left." She handed you all 5 syringes.

"Just fight the infection? You mean it's not a cure?" You frowned at the syringes in your hand.

"It can cure a mild infection coming from a carrier or a lycanthrope with one dose, before the victim transforms, but not the serious one from a full-on werewolf, unless you use 5 doses at a time." Valerie said after a helpless sigh.

"However, the solution is poisonous. It's safe in small doses. 5 doses can cure you of lycanthropy but also kill you. Each single dose could hold back the infection for roughly a week, but eventually your body will grow resistance to it, and you have to inject it more frequently." She finished her cup of water and just stared at you calmly, "In the end, you either overdose and kill yourself, or you embrace it and turn. Believe me, I know how it works."

"So... there's no way out for me?" You couldn't help but gasp in horror.

"We've been trying to reduce its toxicity, while keeping its effectiveness on the disease. Nathan and I have a theory that a certain pheromone produced by pure werewolves to mark their territory could be the key." Valerie shook her head, "But it's usually unobtainable because when a werewolf dies, it returns to its human form and the organ that produces the pheromone disappears."

"What's a pure werewolf?"

"A werewolf not turned, but born from a female werewolf. Pure werewolves are natural leaders in their packs, and more dangerous because they can maintain their rational senses in their beast form. The one that attacked you, I believe, is a pure werewolf." Valerie smiled, "Otherwise you would be dead already."

"Why do you seem so happy about this?" You questioned her in a serious tone.

"Because I've been hunting this pure werewolf for years! I didn't think she would come back here, but it seems she did after all." Valerie answered excitedly while gently cleaning her crossbow, "I might finally be able to put an end to this..."

"But if we could capture her alive, you could extract the pheromone and create a cure, right?" You looked at the syringes in your hand. It was a dim hope, but still a hope.

"Maybe. But how do you intend to capture a beast like that alive, while risking the lives of those who participate in the action?" Valerie stared at you with an anger that almost froze you, "Killing it is always the best option. One silver bolt through its head or its heart is enough."

"Mr. Wilson... If you know who or where the werewolf is, please let me know." She gave you a note and added, "But don't get your hopes up."

Shannon Smith... No, I don't have solid proves yet...

"Well, thanks for your help. I've learned enough for today and I need some time to think about all of this. Goodbye, Miss Grimm." You **** a smile on your face and headed towards the front door.

"Time is exactly what you don't have right now, Mr. Wilson." Valerie was just sitting by the table, staring at your silhouette.

You went away from the cabin, grabbed one of the syringes and injected yourself without hesitation. You didn't have a choice anyway. A wave of coldness rushed through you veins and you began to shiver. You could barely stand up as you found your legs losing strengths.

It went on for a few minutes before everything came back to normal and you felt that your mind was clearer. You supposed it meant that the solution worked. But it wouldn't last for long.

Unlike the time when you dealt with Olivia's vampire horde in Owl City, you had no way out this time. Even if you ran away with Fran, you would still turn into a werewolf some time later. All you could do was either fight to the end or embrace the corruption.

But at least, you could save Grace... She was infected by you, and you had the responsibility to cure her...

Doses of monkshood solution remained: 4.