Dog Tag

In this alternate reality, werewolves live among us. Feared though they are, they are treated as normally as possible. Just one thing marks them out from others - a silver dog tag necklace. Every full moon, the wearers of the dog tags are rounded up and put in cells in the WereControl Headquarters.
Wisteria Lewin wakes up one morning wearing a tag that she cannot get off and has no idea how it got there................
*I've used the name Wisteria before, yeah I know, but it's such a lovely name that I couldn't resist using it again*


7. Six

Everything is so............misty.

It's like a haze of fog has settled over everything. It's gently suspended around my head, swirling around the people in the white. The faster you move, the quicker it seperates for you. I see one person run past, pushing up a tornado behind them.

I don't think I'm supposed to be awake. The people in the white aren't treating me like I'm awake. They're dragging me along so that my bare feet trail along the floor as they hold my arms. I'm like a sack of potatoes, to them.

I've decided not to let them know that I'm awake.

They seem to be moving slower than usual. Even the running person, the tornado person, was moving slowly. Like I've pushed pause and then fast-foward. Little imprints of golden colour silhouette their bodies as they move, like shadows, like smoke trails.

Everything is so strange in this new world.

What am I doing out here? I can't seem to move. The last thing I remember was waking up in a cell and talking about my name with -


The blonde boy. My roommate.

I giggle to myself. Roommate. It's a good word. I like that word. It's two rolled into one.

I'm shoved into a small room just to the left and changed. If I was in my right mind I'd be bothered about them handling my body like I was nothing, seeing my naked flesh, but right now I just don't care. My Tag rests cold against my chest, exposed to the air. My white paper gown is swapped for a tight black t-shirt, navy and white tie-dye jeans, and black calf boots. My clothes. They soothe me. They feel familiar on my skin.

I'm taken out of the room and down another corridor.

Suddenly it's all doors.

They're square-shaped, with rounded edges. A network of piping surrounds them, probably for ventilation. Each has numbers and letters on a small plaque with black block letters. They line the walls on both sides. Nothing but doors.

Almost at the end of the new corridor, they yank open D748. I'm unceremoniously thrown inside.

I wince as my body hits the stone, but stay limp.

It's only when I hear the slight sucking noise that signals the door is shut that I open my eyes and look around.

I'm back in my cell.

Where's Rikan? My roommate.

I giggle silently again. Roommate.

Whatever is causing the mist is also making me silly and stupid. I pull myself up against the wall and wait.

Not five minutes later, the figure of a blonde boy in tatty clothes is thrown in, as roughly as me.

Pretending to be still catatonic until the door closes, I crawl over to Rikan. It's the only form of movement I can use at the moment. Dizziness is forming.

I check his pulse quickly. Normal.

I sigh, and settle back.

What exactly happened?

It's like that question is written in bold, flashing red in my mind.

One minute I'm talking about my name and flowers, then I'm being dragged down a corridor in different clothes, with fog everywhere and incapable of sensible thoughts.

A groaning distracts me.


His body is shifting slightly. He manages to drag himself up on his elbows. He looks terrible - purple shadows under his eyes and a pallor like death.

"Wisteria?" he croaks.

"Yeah, it's me," I say dreamily. "Rikan, what happened? There's lots of mist."

He sits up properly now. He's positively wreathed in the mist, the golden shadow of his past self fading from where it lies on the floor.

"And they changed me from a white dress to these clothes. My clothes," I continue.

"You were awake?" Rikan asks, looking slightly more awake himself.

"Yes," I say, smiling vaguely. "There's lots of mist, did you notice that?"

"Mist?" he says.

"Fog. White clouds. Whatever you want to call it," I say. "So much. It's everywhere. And I can see golden."


"Golden you. Lots of gold you. There, when you sat up. I can still see an outline of you lying on the floor. And it's gold. A pretty gold." I make strange shapes in the air with my hands. "Shiny shiny."

"Yes, yes, shiny shiny," he says impatiently. He moves a bit closer.

I snort.

He stops. "What?"

"You," I say. "There's more gold you. From when you moved. I can still see you sitting there. Ha. Gold."

"Gold, yes," he says, but his face is puzzled. He ignores my giggles at his previous gold selves as he moves to sit beside me. "Wisteria, who are your parents?"

I frown. "Who?"

"Your parents," he presses. "Who are they?"

"Humans," I whisper. "They're humans."

"Humans," he repeats to himself.

"I've got two."

"I'm sorry?"

"Two parents. My now parents, and my then parents."

"What do you mean by then parents?"

"I'm an orphan, didn't you know?" I smile again, completely detached. I feel like I'm floating. "Funny how it happened. My mother died when I was born." A single tear slithers down my cheek, but I carry on smiling. "It was my fault. If I hadn't been born, she wouldn't have died. And then my dad went and got killed by a werewolf. Ha. Now that was a sight to behold."

Rikan is staring intently at me. I start to feel discomfort. "What?" I say, slightly snippy.

"Wisteria, were your then parents - your original parents - human?"

"Well, what sort of a question is that?" I say, insulted. "Of course."

"Are you absolutely sure?"




"You see, I don't think that's the case."


"Do you know what they did to you, Wisteria?"



"The people in white?"

"No, the - yes, then, the 'people in white'. Do you know what they did."

I frown, trying to remember. Then, after a moment, "no. Why?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I can't believe I'm going to have to explain this all over again."

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