Katy Wilson: Not all presents come gift-wrapped.
Who: Katy Wilson
When: Morning of February 12, 2008
Where: Katy's cottage
What: Katy finds a gift left in front of her bedroom door.

She woke up choking. She covered her mouth and nose and opened her eyes, glancing around her room frantically. Why did it smell of death? The whole place reeked of it. She wanted to hurl, and she felt the bile rise in her throat. She had thought she must have been dreaming, that the smell was a part of her dream, but it only grew stronger as she woke to full consciousness.

She clutched the bed clothes and threw them from her as she swung her legs off the bed and stood up. She pulled her shirt collar over her nose in an attempt to keep the bad air out. She needed to get out of there. The smell of death, decay, and congealed blood was starting to make her panic. The animal inside was becoming riled up and urged her to follow ancient instincts.

Katy opened the door to leave her bedroom so she could make a dash down stairs and out the front door where hopefully there would be clean air and she could collect her thoughts and calm the rising panic, when she looked down. There in front of her was a mangled corpse of a once magnificent wolf. It's neck had been broken, and the animal had suffered greatly. In the animal's eye was penned a note that only said, "I'm Watching."

Falling on to her knees, Katy reached for the note and ripped it up as much as she could. She didn't need it to be signed to know who had written it. She wondered if he knew it had been she who had burned down his house. Was this supposed to be some sort of grotesque warning? She reached out and touched a patch of the animal's fur that wasn't matted in blood. "The poor thing."

She grimaced and slide her arms under the poor animal and lifted it off the floor. She tried to breathe as little as possible as she stepped over the thick puddle of dried blood as she walked out of her cottage. She must have looked a sight carrying the dead animal out of her house like nothing had happened. Flies flew around her head, trying to get to the rotting meat she held in her arms.

Once in the woods, she set the animal down and started digging into the ground. It would be a shallow grave, but it would be better than nothing. She'd have to go back home, clean the mess in front of her bedroom door, and then clean herself up. There was blood on her pajama shirt and her cheek. She wanted to see him again. She wanted to dig her claws into his flesh and snap her fangs over his throat. She wouldn't let him allow him to finish it like this.