The Missing Wolf

“Crowded streets are cleared away. One by one. Hollow heroes separate as they run…” The male voice kept on singing. The girl turned down her MP3’s volume as the rock singer raised his voice, her ears sensible enough. Her right thumb never left the volume button; she was aboard a school’s bus and when its radio got louder, so did her small, black music player.

The girl’s dark hair rested over her left shoulder. Every once in a while she stroke it, bored, looking for split ends. Her legs were bent up so that her knees were in eye level. They were pressed to the long, grey seat in front of her. It numbed them for the rest of the trip, which lasted forty-five minutes.

The bus took a left curve, revealing a small colony. It was surrounded by hills and green fields. On the center stood proudly a small hill with a *Mormon temple; at its feet was the school. It was formed by two red brick buildings; each was three floors tall. And four smaller ones widely spread. The school was over one hundred and fifty years old and only the two main buildings still kept part of the past. There were many trees and thin paths of concrete that ran though the grass. Everybody loved its appearance. Unlike the other schools, it had a clean look about. No one could say that they felt like if they were in a jail. There was plenty of room to run through.

Two girls got off the bus with black rimmed windows. Both yawned. “How was your weekend?” asked one. She wore glasses and had a thin, long body.

“Nothing of interest crossed my path,” answered Alex. She had a strong, fit body. She was shorter than most girls but had unique traits that people liked to point out; sharp, dark brown eyes that were said to have a malicious light, and straight, long, jet black hair which people loved to ruffle and caress. A strange girl, they called her. They said that no one could be so emotionless or indifferent of life. She wanted attention, some said; but the truth was that attention was the last thing she wanted.

“I read a book that caught my attention. How was yours Pavme?” asked Alex in return, more out of politeness than real interest.

“Mom didn’t let me get out of the house,” she answered glumly. “With this new murder, she got freaked out. She didn’t want me to be on the streets.”

“Ah. Right. These murders are beginning to tire me. What is this one? The tenth, I believe?”

“Yeah, I think so. Let’s hope they stop before we all go crazy.”

* * *

“It was in the papers, I swear.”

“What did they say, Cobos?” asked a girl with black, curly hair. Alex dropped her school bag next to her desk. There was a small circle of boys and girls on the desk behind hers.

“It was about the most recent murder. It said that the body was a freaking mess. Blood everywhere, organs missing, and ripped open by the middle. The other victims never were like this.”

“How was he killed? By a bullet?” asked the same girl.

“Police couldn’t find one,” said Cobos. He always knew important things; his father was a town’s politician and kept his son well informed. His classmates were glad to have someone that would have something to keep the teachers distracted during class.

“I heard the sheriff say that when they found the body, he heard a wolf howl,” said another boy. “The disappearance of organs could be because of a wolf.”

Alex straightened herself. Wolves weren’t a common animal near the main road. The heart of the forest, on the foot of the mountains, was their home. No normal wolf could have done that to a human. She only knew another one like her, and he was her cousin.

“Don’t be stupid, Hector,” laughed Cobos. “Maybe the wolf did eat the organs, but someone ripped him first.”

Mr. Figs, the chemistry teacher, entered the classroom. “Oi kids, please sit now,” he said. Everybody jumped to their respective desks, groaning and a few whining. Some tried to get the teacher to talk of what they had been talking, he refused, but still they pleaded.

Her eyes were on the board, but her mind wandered on her cousin. Could he have killed, and not told her? He always told her everything. She could sense it. And she also told him everything.

“Alexandra, you’re not taking any notes.”

Mr. Fig’s voice interrupted her thoughts. Though annoyed, she didn’t show it and rather answered apologetically, “I’m sorry. I’ll do them right now.” She took a quick glance back at the clock, it marked 8:15. She still had thirty five minutes of class.

“You seem kind of tense today,” whispered the girl that was on the desk next to her.

“Ah, good-morning Zahra,” answered Alex, tiredly. “With all the morning babble, I didn’t greet you.” Zahra was a tall, thin girl that Alex always said ‘Good-morning’ to. First period didn’t feel right if they hadn’t greeted each other. Personally, Alex found it weird. She hadn’t started the deal. She merely followed it humbly; she liked Zahra, as she was a good person. “These murders are getting under my skin.”

“They do, don’t they? More will come, you know. This is just the start of a killing spree.”

Alex didn’t say anything; she only nodded and started scribbling formulas. Her bangs obscured her left eye vision as she looked down at her paper. She didn’t bother to remove the hair; she was used to it and liked it that way. Suddenly her head went up, followed by a tap on the door’s glass.

Outside, stood the person she had wanted to see. Her cousin, Emmet. Both looked very much alike; black hair, dark brown eyes, and even the same tan skin. But Emmet was a head taller than her.

“I’m sorry to interrupt Mr. Fig, but could I talk to Alex for a bit? It is kind of an emergency.”