Chapter 2: The Silver Coin

Code of the Wolf (9/13):

"Explore the unknown." ~ Rafhael Vieira

Blake

Blake Larson.

Wolf of mortality, divination, and necromancy.

Go, henceforth, and connect with your pack. Your brothers and sisters, your companions for life.

The Creation and your parents are in dire need of your help."

3:27 AM

I've been pacing up and down my room for about an hour now. I tried going back to sleep after hearing the "message"—can I even call it that?—for the first time. After I calmed myself down and convinced myself that the voice was merely a figment of my imagination, my eyelids began to feel heavier and I was able to fall back into another peaceful slumber. After all, I can see spirits—if I'm not just a little crazy that in itself would be alarming.

I was asleep for about thirty minutes again, before I hear the voice utter the same message. Clear as a night sky, and as surprising as a sudden storm in the middle of a vast sea. I take a notepad from one of my drawers that I used to write song lyrics in a long time ago, and wrote the "message" down word for word. What could it mean? And why was I the one receiving it?

Blake Larson.

How did it, or they, know my name? Was someone sending the message, or was my mind transmitting it through me in a way? As if seeing dead people wasn't enough, now the universe had to add this! They should just lock me up somewhere, and throw away the key. They should put me in an asylum, away from everything and everyone. At least then maybe I'll be able to recover the mind I've lost. It wasn't easy growing up different—it made my mind conditioned to believe I will always be an outcast. That no matter where I end up, I'll never truly belong.

Wolf of mortality, divination, and necromancy.

This part was the most confusing. This is the part that is making me want to pull my hair out and scream at the top of my lungs for the universe to give me an answer to this impossible situation. Let's push the wolf part to the side for a sec, okay? Necromancy. Necromancy. One of the words that I can't stop repeating in my head. Meaning "to be able to communicate with the dead." Well, I see dead people! I can talk to them. Feel their presence. Read their emotions, and many other things. I've never set a term to it, because I never thought it was anything Google had an answer to.

If I can perform "necromancy," what did I have to do with the other two things? Mortality and divination. Do I have special abilities concerning those as well? Is seeing spirits considered one of those abilities? My mind is about to implode on itself. My heart feels as if it will leap out of my body at any second. My body is drenched in sweat and I'm shaking. Not shaking because I am terrified like earlier today with that spirit, but because I can't control it. My own body doesn't even know how to take the news, as if shaking involuntarily and not on its own accord. What do I have to do with death and what can I foresee? Do I even have these abilities to begin with?

Wolf. That part I found myself laughing at. The fact that me, a perfectly functional human, well almost functioning, could be some sort of animal. There is no way that that's possible. I'm not as interested in science as I am in history, but I'm sure there's some law out there that says that a human turning into some animal of the night can never be done, much less be possible. There have been legends of course, but that's purely fiction. Besides, it defies all common sense! I run a hand down my face, then pinch the bridge of my nose in an effort to get my mind to stop racing and my heart from beating out of my chest. I would scream at the top of my lungs right now if my dad wasn't sleeping two doors over. I am desperate for some sort of release.

Go, henceforth, and connect with your pack. Your brothers and sisters, your companions for life.

The Creation and your parents are in dire need of your help."

I assume the pack is a part of the whole wolf thing that I don't buy in the slightest. As for brothers and sisters, I am adopted. So even if I do have any, I wouldn't know. I've never asked my dad for that information and I don't even know if he has it. He found me under a tree. By myself. In a cemetery. My "real" family clearly abandoned me and wanted nothing to do with me. So if they were the same parents that needed my help, they could go screw themselves. My dad, even though we have our differences, is my real family. He can sometimes get on my nerves, but he has never once abandoned me and for that I will always be grateful to him.

As I make my way to put my notepad back in the drawer it came from, a shiny gleam catches my eye. On top of the dresser is an object I know I've seen before, but can't quite place where that was. On top of the aging and scratched wood, lay a coin. A silver coin. With a weird engraving and an animal etched into the metal. The spirit woman! She had dropped it earlier today. But it was gone when she vanished. What is it doing here in my room?

Just then another memory came to back to me. She had told me earlier to listen to the whispers in my dreams. Could she have been referring to the "message?" Had she sent it? I check the clock again. 4:58 AM. I pull on some sweatpants over the shorts I had worn to bed, and pull a sweatshirt over my head with the school's logo on it. If clothes were not comfortable, I would not wear them. I rarely am seen with tight pants or heels, that just isn't me. I grab my phone from off the charger, then swipe the coin from the dresser, and go to my window. I jump out of it without hesitation, landing on my feet with perfect form after sneaking out to go to the cemetery or to hang out with Emerson so many times. I take one last look behind me, before going on a search for the spirit that resembled a tree. I need answers, and I need them now.

Emerson

I drag my fork around the dish of cold pasta from the school's cafeteria. My mind is a million miles away from here. I separate the peas from the noodles, and make random shapes with them. My hand is moving almost unconsciously and my mind feels hazy as if only clouds and air filled my skull, and my rustling thoughts were the only things keeping me from floating away.

Blake isn't here. I know she is still at school because of the location app I had both of us download on our phones a couple of years ago. She started sneaking off to go to the cemetery years ago, and it's become a habit of hers now. Sometimes she just walks the streets of the city at night, and I always find myself wondering what's going on in her head. She would always worry me when she'd be gone for hours and I didn't know where she was—so we compromised on the app. She has it on her phone too, just in case I feel like taking off one day and running away. I used to think about doing that all the time, until I met River and he changed me for the better.

I'm pulled out of my trance by a hand snapping in front of my face, and waving frantically trying to catch my attention. I blink a few times trying to clear away the fogginess. I have a tendency to blank out at the most random of times. Sometimes I can't get out of my own head, and my thoughts begin racing, and I find myself trying to organize them so much, that I get lost in them.

Blake is avoiding me after our altercation in the hallway earlier today. The whole situation is very strange, and I hate things I can't control. I don't like feeling helpless, like there isn't anything I can do. I know she'll try and drive herself mad, figuring out who—or what could have caused this. She's too analytical for her own good. For now, I'm going to push it all far down, and focus on my beautiful boyfriend in front of me.

"Hellloooo?? Is there anyone in there?" River said, gently knocking on my skull. I roll my eyes, and chuckle as he drags the joke further along by pretending to scrunch his face up in confusion, as if trying to figure out if my skull is actually empty.

"Haha, very funny." I mumble, but can't help it as a ghost of a smile falls on my face, as my lips involuntarily twitch upwards.

He always manages to bring me back.

He takes one of my hands in his under the table, and uses his thumb to draw circles into the back of my palm, knowing his touch always calms me down. And it does, as I take a deep breath and try to forget all that happened this morning. But I can't. I can't help but feel as if something bigger than myself, bigger than anything I've ever experienced, is trying to tell me something. I can't just ignore that. His touch doesn't send jolting and piercing shocks through my body like I had felt this morning with Blake. But there is definitely a spark there though. I can feel it. Call me cheesy or whatever, but his touch always makes me feel warm all over like a blanket wrapping around me, and I can't help but feel drawn to him.

"Did something happen between you and Blake?" He asked, a concerned expression on his face. He knows personally how close Blake and I are, and how we rarely fought or were apart, unless him and I were spending time alone. Blake and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. We grew up together. We know each other so well, it is impossible to keep secrets from the other. So if we ever do get into fights, which is rare, it's a big deal.

I shake my head, a lump forming in my throat. I want to tell him what happened, but what would he think? Would he play it off as if it was nothing? Would he think I've lose my mind? I knew the answer would be no to both of those. I trust him more than I trust myself, and I tell him everything. We've been together for almost three months, and we're already so close and I don't want to jeopardize that. But something in me is telling me not to tell him until I've figured it all out first. I need to get answers, before filling him in on everything. It wouldn't be fair to leave him with questions that I don't currently have answers to.

"No, she just had to work on a project in the library." I reply, trying not to give anything away since he can read me like a book. I hate keeping things from him, but I need to figure out things between Blake and I first. Because one thing is for sure. What happened in the hallway today isn't normal. There's definitely a storm brewing, and I have a feeling we are both going to be tossed into the middle of it.

Blake

I've searched everywhere and there is no sign of the spirit in the sundress. I went back to the tracks, where I first met her, and found no trace of her. I decide to go back to the cemetery to ask the spirits if anyone else has seen her. The spirits sort of resemble a web. They are all intertwined in a way—sharing the same experiences, so it is only normal for them to keep tabs on one another. At least the local ones in the area.

"Have you seen a Ms. Rosie Samuels by any chance?" I ask a ghost politely who is staring at a patch of grass rather heatedly, seeing as his eyes haven't left the spot for about five minutes now. Like all spirits I've come across, he is mostly see through. With eyes devoid of any glint or shimmer they may have held while he was still alive. Now, the whites of his eyes are more protruding and the irises are faded out like old parchment. His body is slightly quivering, as if moving with the wind. I wonder how he died. It's a question I find myself asking a lot in my head, when I come across a new spirit.

"No, never heard of her." He said, and his voice sounded light years away. Fading, like the screen in the movie theatre after the credits are finished. Fading, like the people in a photograph, as the years take its toll. Fading, like we all will one day when we grow old.

"Are you sure?" I ask, more insistent this time trying to pry his eyes off of the same patch of grass. "It's really important, you see—

"—and I don't care. You've taken up enough of my time. Nagging at me for answers, like my wife used to do. You'd think in the afterlife, I'd find some sense of peace, but no. Just a word of advice. Just because you can talk to us, doesn't mean you have to." He glares at me but his gaze his hollow, before floating away from me, trying to get as far away as possible. When he reaches a lone part of the cemetery, where the shadows are the tallest, he goes back to studying the grass.

I open my mouth in shock, but quickly close it trying not to draw any more attention than I already have. Most of the spirits in the cemetery give me looks of pity and sorrow. I smile when most off them start to say reassuring things like they like having me around, and love having my company.

But there are a select few that grunt in agreement with the man and float off to various parts of the cemetery, wanting to get away from me as soon as possible. I am used to it. Most of the spirits like having me around and bask in the comfort that I receive from them, sharing some of those feelings as well. I like having conversations with some of them about everything and nothing. About what really happened during the Salem Witch Trials, and what really happened during the Hamilton-Burr duel. Plot twist: It's not what you'd expect at all.

But there is always a select few that despise my presence, and thought that all the questions I ask are too intrusive and annoying. Plus, a regular human shouldn't be able to talk to spirits. Which brings up the question: If I can basically do the impossible, what's to say I can't be a wolf? Yeah yeah, funny I know.

But I also understand why they wouldn't want me around. I remind them of the life that was taken from them. I may be okay with the idea of death, but maybe that's because I've been surrounded by spirits my whole life and know that what comes after isn't as bad as everyone believes. But I'm not a spirit so how could I say that for sure? Maybe my presence hindered them from forgetting their past lives. Because after losing everything, all you want to do is forget. Even the good parts. Those memories end up hurting most in the end after all.

As I start to walk away, the woman suddenly appears in front of me. She wears the same sundress that I saw her in yesterday, but that's not surprising since it isn't as if spirits can change their clothes. She looks the exact same, and carries herself gracefully. While the wind seems to gently shake the other spirits, she remains calmly still, smiling to herself.

"You!" I exclaimed, suddenly filled with all the emotions that I had in my bedroom earlier. Fear. Confusion. Astonishment. Frustration. It is around six in the morning right now, and the sun is just starting to peak up from the horizon. Showing up here, after wishing goodnight to the other half of the world. The sky begins to fill with brilliant pinks, yellows, and oranges, the makings of a good start to any day.

"Blake Larson, we meet again." She replied, looking me straight in the eyes, unwavering. A delicate smile graces her features, and her eyes are so bright. They seem to shine brighter the more the sun rose in the sky.

"You have a lot of explaining to do." I say accusingly, glaring at her so hard she begins to look slightly uncomfortable.

"Excuse me?" She says, looking taken aback, yet not surprised at all.

I grit my teeth, my hands curling up into fists at my sides, clenching and unclenching, all the emotions from earlier suddenly threatening to bubble out. "Don't play dumb with me. Tell me what's happening to me. How was Emerson able to throw me across the hall by a simple touch and why the heck can I hear his thoughts? Why am I getting messages in my dreams? And—" I pause momentarily to dig the coin out of my sweatshirt pocket and thrust it into her face. "What the hell is this coin, and how did it get into my room?" I finish breathless, as if my fit was a workout in itself.

Her eyebrows are raised, and her eyes are wide, most likely shocked by my sudden outburst. Then she resolves her expression, a small smirk gracing her timeless features instead. "I take it you want answers, but what makes you so sure I have them?"

Her response only makes me angrier. I hate how she keeps shrugging of my words, and only answering my questions with more questions. "Because you are obviously different from any other spirit I've met. I can't put my finger on it, but you are. Not to mention I saw you vanish into thin air! Plus you told me to 'listen to the whispers in my dreams' and all of a sudden, voices are talking in my head while I sleep!" I point accusingly at her before saying, "I saw you drop this coin yesterday. Now explain yourself. Or so help me God, I will find a way to force it out of you."

Her smirk leaves her face, and is suddenly replaced by a very serious expression. She looks even older now if that is possible, and her eyes bore into me, as if searching my own soul. This time, I don't tremble in fear. Not because I am used to it, but because I believe there is nothing to be afraid of. She may be mysterious, but I know deep down she won't hurt me.

"You're right I do have answers." She doesn't say anything else.

"Well...? Don't just leave me hanging. Enlighten me." I wrap my arms around myself, preparing for the worst.

She sighs, looking over my shoulders at the one tree with any signs of life as if trying to find a way to word this properly, but finding no means to do so. "What you heard last night wasn't a message, it was more of a vision. Every word you heard last night is true. You're a wolf, and your best friend Emerson is one too. You will need to be there for him, and with him, find the other members of your pack. The seven of you are the only ones capable of saving this world from complete annihilation." She finishes, with a worried look on her face, scanning my eyes for any sign of how I'll react to the news.

The coin. The animal engraved on it. I couldn't make out what the animal was before but I can see the image clearer now. With its wide head and a long muzzle while its neck was outstretched, head looking towards the sky and mouth open—as if in mid-howl. I find myself grasping at straws trying to process the information, so I do the one thing I've wanted to do ever since I woke up this morning.

I scream.