They Truly Exist

"Can you stand?"

Klein stared at the hand being offered to him, then back to its owner. He scanned the man clad in dark combat boots, rip jeans and varsity jacket, analyzing his posture and subtle body language if he posed a threat to him or not.

For a moment, the gesture looked similar to the kid Klein used to play with during summer vacation in the province.

"Don't be afraid. I'm human. I'm not going to hurt you."

Klein almost wanted to spit blood on the open palm just to point out his manhandling injured him, but he's not that petty. Instead of reaching for the helping hand, he used the elevator walls to support himself to stand.

The hand folded close at his refusal, returning to the side of its owner. "Are you okay? I know you're shocked at what you saw back there."

"I'm fine," Klein only said, his mind still processing what he just witnessed.

Well, he just found out that the guy he's always hanging out with had a glow-in-the-dark irises and can produce an abundant keratin at his nail roots in a matter of seconds, which defied basic laws of physics and human biology.

To say he was shock was an understatement. Klein was bamboozled. It barely even registered to him that they had reached the underground parking lot until the elevator had stopped.

The guy reached out behind him as the elevator door opened, showing a glimpse of a handgun. How he even managed to bring it past the condominium's security, Klein was yet to find out. He checked the hallway with caution before he stepped out.

"Come on. I'm sure he's on his way down through the stairs or the second elevator. Werewolves had superhuman agility, and it won't take him long to catch up on us."

Klein followed without any questions, but uncertainty put him at a distance from the man even as he trailed after him. He didn't know much about werewolves, but he's more than aware of the nature of humans.

If he's going to base it on a real-world data and statistics, humans had a higher crime rate percentage than animal attacks—if he could consider werewolves as an animal. Still, he would not rule out the several probability scores he had calculated in his mind.

The man must have felt his hesitation because he threw him an inquisitive glance over his shoulder. "What's wrong? Are you having a hard time to walk?"

"No. I'm just wondering if I can trust you," Klein answered as they reached the parking lot.

In between a human stranger in possession of a deadly weapon and an insofar, a harmless classmate, who can draw out razor claws in his fingers; Klein's safety in the hands of the man ahead of him was not a hundred percent guaranteed.

Letting out a sigh, the man stopped in front of a motorcycle and grabbed a helmet. "I told you, I'm human. I will not—"

"Your humanity will not rule out your ability to commit crimes. Compared to the one you called a monster, you have committed more harmful acts than he does."

"What the—?"

"If my memory serves me right, you've already done stalking, assault, breaking into a private property, and possession of deadly weapons. Given the facts I've just mentioned, I think it's only fair that I question if it's more safe for me to come with you or not."

Speechless, the man's jaw only dropped in astonishment. Then he started to laugh. "Klein... you just never changed, do you?"

Klein's thin eyebrows creased down in confusion. He didn't remember telling him his name. And the way he spoke, it's as if they'd already met before. But since the man had been following him, it's possible basic information had been acquired.

The man reversed his baseball hat and replaced it with a flip-up helmet. Without the visor covering his eyes, the swirling speckles of brown, green and gold became more visible for Klein to see.

"Look, I like how you are questioning things. I can answer any question you may have, but for now, we need to leave. Or would you rather stay here to get answers until he arrives?"

Klein stopped staring and weighed everything in his mind, but the slamming of the door from the distance alerted them of Khalil's approaching presence.

"Shit!" The man climbed on his motorcycle and started the engine. He handed a half helmet and sent Klein an expectant stare. "Come on! Hop in! We're running out of time!"

"Give me your gun."

"What?"

"Your gun," Klein repeated while he put on the white helmet that would only cover his forehead and the upper part of his head. "Give it to me. Only then I can trust you."

With a click of his tongue, the man drew out his gun from his waistband. It's a revolver gun. "Do you even know how to shoot?"

Klein grabbed the gun, then hopped onto the motorbike's passenger's seat. "No, I don't," he said, then pointed its muzzle to the man's waist. "But I think I can shatter your kidney at this range without needing to know how to aim."

"What the hell?"

"Klein!" Khalil roared as soon as he burst out into the parking lot. "Don't come with him, Klein! I can explain! Trust me, I mean no harm!"

"Drive," Klein instructed.

Taking a glance towards the owner of the voice, Klein met Khalil's luminous eyes. It shone with hurt and betrayal as the motorcycle drove out of the parking lot with him.

The blood-soaked shirt reminded Klein of the stab on Khalil's shoulder. He almost wanted to shout that he should go to the hospital, but if Khalil managed to run the plight of stairs of a 33-story building, then he will live.

"Um... I understand you wanted insurance!" the man yelled. "But you might accidentally pull the trigger if we drive on a bumpy road. And people might mistake us for a riding-in-tandem hitman if they saw you holding a gun. That will be a problem."

"I'm not an idiot. I've already thought about that before you even point it out."

"I never said you are."

"Shut up and drive then," Klein said.

"You're no longer pointing the gun at me, are you?"

"How sure are you?"

"As sure as I am that you'd shot me if I'm a bad person."

Klein didn't answer. He had already hid the revolver gun in his messenger's bag. As if he'd take a chance of shooting the guy in charge of driving the motorbike. If it crashed, he's going to die too.

"So, who are you?" Klein asked.

"You can call me Calix."

"Where are you taking me?"

"To a safe place. Don't worry, it's still within Manila. But we must stop somewhere first. Werewolves can sniff you from a far. We need to mask out our scent."

A howl resounded from the direction they came from. Klein looked behind his shoulder as they drove through the moderate traffic of Metro Manila. The world as he knew it changed in the blink of an eye.

Werewolves. The beings Maya always spoke of... they truly exist.