C7 Markings of a Werewolf (?)

A little later on ... at a trendy L.A. nightclub...

The pulsating neon strobe lights affixed above the spacious dance floor beam radiantly throughout the otherwise dimly illuminated ambient lighting within the nightclub, refracting through amassed hazy banks of accumulated cigarette and cigar smoke, and E-Cig vapors. An odoriferous aroma of tobacco, alcohol, and sweat from those vigorously gyrating on the dance floor ... not to mention an inundation of pheromones being emitted by the dozens of desperate, sex-craved patrons present tonight ... permeates the air, as the DJ makes sure to keep the techno-beats thunderously pumping.

This establishment is one of the three vampire fully owned and operated nightclubs located within the Los Angeles County area. And just like the 'Red Light Districts', these nightclubs have become popular 'feeding grounds' for the vampires ... the only difference is, metaphorically speaking, where the 'Red Light Districts' can be likened to all-you-can-buffets, these nightclubs are more like upscale restaurants.

As they enter the nightclub, Barry is wearing a long, black trench coat and skullcap to conceal his recently inflicted wounds; leaning up against Sam with his arm draped over Sam's shoulder's. Sam's supporting the weakened Barry, trying to keep him from falling, when he notices two bouncers nearby and immediately waves them over to assist him in helping Barry to the upstairs office area.

Once they settle Barry down to rest upon the large, leather sofa in the manager's office, Sam asks the bouncers to have the manager ... who also happens to be a member of their clan's consortium ... return to the office as soon as possible, so he could apprise him of the current situation. And while they do that, Sam calls for one of their clan's doctors to come over to the nightclub and tend to Barry's wounds.

About half an hour later...

Despite the anxiously agitated mood prevailing over the room's atmosphere, the doctor maintains a stoical expression ingrained upon his countenance as he affirms...

"There's no doubt about it ... by the looks of these lacerations, they were definitely made by a werewolf."

Barry is still adamant on his position that it wasn't a werewolf, and indignantly refutes the diagnosis...

"No way! You're wrong, Doc ... I'm telling you guys; it wasn't a werewolf!" Barry takes in a deep breath and quickly tries to recompose himself a little before emphasizing, "Look ... I may not know what the hell that thing was that attacked me; but I do know that it wasn't a werewolf. I'd know it if it was."

Although the manager totally agrees with the doctor that Barry's wounds definitely look like werewolf claw markings; he really doesn't want to believe it himself. He can't conceive how any werewolf ... even those radical insurgent rogues that have recently been using guerrilla warfare-like tactics during terrorist-like strikes attacking the established packs ... would have such blatant audacity to break their centuries-old, tacitly agreed upon, on-going truce pact; risking stirring up the possibility of causing a war to break out between the werewolf and vampire races. So, the manager hesitantly asks, while desperately hoping in his mind that the doctor might reconsider his initial diagnosis...

"Are you absolutely sure about that, doctor? There's no chance that you might be mistaken?"

"No, I'm not mistaken ... I'm hundred percent sure. As I said, there's no doubt about it in my mind at all. These wounds were inflicted by a werewolf."

A 'shroud' of uneasy silence envelops the room for a brief moment; but is abruptly cast away when Barry lets out a frustratingly exasperated huff and grumbles...

"You weren't even there; so, what do you know? ... Whatever."

Barry quickly drops on his side to lay back down; demonstratively displaying a frowning visage while facing the back of the couch ... looking like a pouting child. Sam kneels down beside the couch and consolingly rests his hand on Barry's shoulder. The manager looks to the doctor...

"Since you're certain that this attack was committed by a werewolf; I suppose I should notify the consulate about this, at once."

The manager walks over to the phone on his desk, picks up the receiver, and starts to dial. Suddenly ... a perplexed, troubled look emerges upon the doctor's formerly stoical countenance; and out of the blue, he utters aloud...

"There's still one thing bothering me."

Hearing this, the manager stops dialing and hangs up the receiver...

"You mean ... something else besides the fact that a werewolf just attacked one of our own? What is it?"

The doctor is momentarily silent ... looking as if he's somewhat confounded while mulling over something in his mind ... then finally explains, in a gravely serious tone...

"Although these wounds definitely resemble the markings left behind by a werewolf claws' strike ... I'm absolutely, positively sure of this ... the thing that's baffling me the most ... and what I believe to be our greatest concern; and what we should be focusing on the most ... is the burnt scarring infusing those deep, gashing lacerations; which also spreads out and covers the surrounding flesh around them."

He briefly pauses before finishing...

"It looks as if these lacerations had been instantly cauterized as the claws sliced through the flesh. ... I've never seen or heard of any such case of wounds like these before."

The manager uses his 'layman's' medical knowledge to hypothesize...

"So, what are we thinking here, doctor; that before attacking Barry, that werewolf dipped its claws in some sort of poison, or something?"

The doctor immediately dismisses his hypothesis...

"No ... a poison wouldn't severely burn the flesh like this, especially not in such a short amount of time. To achieve this kind of bodily damage, one would have to use a more acidic substance."

Sam abruptly interjects, "Hold on; doc ... a werewolf actually dipped its claws into acid? Wouldn't the acid burn its claws and flesh, too?"

"Yes, it most certainly would. Which is why I highly doubt that this is the case."

The manager displays a confounded expression as he wonders...

"Well, if its claws weren't dipped in poison or acid; then how did the flesh get burnt?"

The doctor's momentarily quiet, as he briefly stares at the manager; then replies...

"I have no idea ... like I said, I've never seen or heard about anything like this before."

"But we're still at least sure that a werewolf is responsible for this?"

"Yes; those lacerations are definitely the markings of a werewolf."