Chapter 146: THE OLD GRANDFATHER'S CLOCK

Emma sighed as she checked out the time on the big grand father's clock strung idly on the white washed wall, which she only took notice of now; she hadn't had an iota that the clock had been present in her living room. Perhaps the school rush and the strange happenings around her had robbed her of her observation qualities; she hadn't really looked in to the every part of her house. It was already 10am. 

"No school today then." She mumbled with a sigh. She could see her plans for today melting into nothingness. She had planned yesternight to attend classes today, and then drop by her workplace to tender an apology and know whether they would overlook her crazy absence and let her have her job back.

But it seems it won't be today.

The sight that she had been cursed with this morning had rattled her no small deal.

She sat up gingerly as Anthony strolled inside the sitting room from the kitchen, her buttocks already getting scratchy for sitting for a long time. She wanted to lie down, perhaps sleep. But then she didn't think that she would be able to do so. The fear of some one or something hovering around her house still gave her the creeps. She didn't think she would be able to sleep in her house in a very long time, well unless, perhaps, she had someone come stay with her. 

"All done." He said, before dropping into the sofa next to her, obviously still weakened by the refrigerator's incident.

When he had told her that they should wait in the sitting room for Melvina, she had sulked up her thirst, and waited. But thirty minutes had turned to an hour, and it had been almost two hours when she got tired of waiting, of holding up her thirst, of stifling the bile in her throat that had been triggered by the awful smell that had migrated from the kitchen to the room.

And so, firstly she had voiced out her need for water to him, and he had complied by going into the kitchen to her suprise, but not without holding his nose with his hand. He had gotten two cups from the rack, and had found his way instinctively to the bathroom. He had let the outer tap run, had slide in the cup under the rushing water, had turned it off when the cups were filled, before coming out to meet her again.

And of course, she had drank the water, had actually emptied the cup before handing it back to him with a grateful look and words, thoroughly satisfied with quenching her thirst.

Secondly, she had asked him about the carcass in the refrigerator and what they were to do about it. He hadn't answered for a minute plus, had thrown back his head to recline on the apex of the long sofa, before raising it up some five minutes later, asking her if she had got gloves.

She hadn't been sure why he needed the gloves, hadn't been sure if she had gloves, but she had checked hopefully in the other room where she had kept some of the bags her sister had packed up for her. She had found her baking gloves, and had taken it out of its home and had given it to him, making a reminder not to use the same gloves again, and to get another from the store.

He had muttered a thank you before taking the gloves and disappearing into the kitchen. Instincts had told her that he might have gone to clean up her refrigerator. She had been a bit glad for his thoughtfulness, but a bit sorry for him. She had pitied his stomach and his mouth which she had thought would gaggle and throw up alot of times.

Now, it seemed he was done. She thought as she stared at him. He still looked the same, like he hadn't done anything, like he hadn't seen or removed the carcasses which she was sure that he had removed, for the awful smell has drastically reduced. Except for his dull eyes, there was no sigh that he had just cleaned up the huge revolting mess in her refrigerator.

"Are you okay?" She asked, shifting to the edge of the sofa she was sitting on, in a bid to be a bit closer to him.

"Yeah." He humphed with a sigh.

"I'm sorry for stressing you on your first day in my house." She said, feeling a bit bad. This must be the worst welcome in the history of welcoming visitors.

"It's okay Emma. It's not your fault." He stated, dragging his grey eyes to match her line of sight.

"Thanks a lot." She responded, noting the color of his eyes. She wonder where he had inherited his eyes from. Neither Melvina nor her husband had grey eyes. Perhaps he was like her. They must have inherited their bodily qualities from an ancient ancestor, and not directly from their parents.

"You're welcome." He mentioned, amusement twinkling in his eyes, perhaps at her try at courtesy.

"So, where did you throw it?" She asked, referring to the carcasses that had found home in her refrigerator.

"In the forest." He replied with a shrug, as if it should have been obvious to her, as if there hadn't really been any other place to abadon the carcasses.

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And he was right. The forest was the best option.

"Who did you think did it?" She asked.

"I don't know." Anthony replied, turning his face away.

He had racked his brain since seeing the ghastly sight in the redhead's refrigerator hours earlier, on who might have been responsible for this, but nothing had really come out. Just vague guesses. He thought the best thing they could do at the moment was to wait for his Luna. She had told him that she would be meeting them here.

What could be keeping her? He thought, his eyes wandering till they found the old grandfather's clock. The time was 10:13am.

But the clock held his fascination, not really the time. It looked familiar. 

He racked his brain again, thinking hardly on where he had seen the clock at.

He jerked his face up from slightly bent position as the answer came like lightening striking into his cerebrum. He had seen the clock in his mother's cousin's house, nine years ago. His mother had dropped him off there to stay with Derek and the rest of the gang, while the three women: his mother, her cousin, who was the owner of the house, and Derek's mother, left for a special meeting he knew nothing of.

He scratched his hair a little bit wildly, as he tried to remember the name of the woman.

" Aunt Sheila..." He muttered unconsciously as he remembered, swivelling his face till he looked on Emma who was also staring at him in curiosity.

"Who is Aunt Sheila?" She asked, her eyes brimming with curiosity still. He was the third person now mentioning Sheila. Who was this Sheila? She thought, hoping that Anthony would give her a good answer.

"My mother's cousin." He replied, staring at her like he was seeing her for the first time. How hadn't he noticed that she looked like his Aunt Sheila? Were they related? He queried himself. He didn't think so though. This redhead here was a human. His Aunt Sheila was a werewolf like them all, a very powerful one. It had been rumoured that she had come from a lineage of wolves with magical powers. But he had never seen it first hand, from her or from his mother, he hadn't really believed the rumours too. To him, she had been one of the most beautiful people he has ever seen, inside out, until her disappearance seven years ago. At least he had been sure of his parents death, had seen their bodies, but he hadn't seen his aunt's. He wasn't sure if she was dead or alive.

"Do you know her?" He asked, out of sheer curiosity, not that he believed that she would. But perhaps, anything could happen. Already there were strange things happening around the human.

"Not really." Emma replied. 

"Melvina didn't tell me she was her cousin. She had only referred to her as her friend. Why would she do that? She asked, uplifting her own question which baffled Anthony a bit, until it dawned on him that the redhead thought that Melvina was also his mother. She thought that he was Derek's brother.

'Well…" He was about answering, not actually knowing what to say, when a knock sounded at the door, startling them both.

" Who is that?" Emma asked, darting her eyes from Anthony to the door, fear coating her features a bit.

" I don't know. I'm not all knowing." He teased, wanting to ease the fear strains on the human's features.

And of course he succeeded, because in the next second, Emma snorted but not quite able to hide the amusement in her eyes, and the relaxation she felt flow from her hair to the sole of her feet, at least for a minute.

"I'm serious here, Tony." She stated, stomping her left foot slightly on the floor, her mouth fixed in a pout, which Anthony found funny.

"I'm serious too. I'm not all knowing.. Or am I?" He queried, chuckling as he saw the undescribable but funny look on her face.

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