Snowball: Chronicles of a Wererabbit

By M. Y. Zeman

I wasn't born with a scar on my forehead. I'm not an heir to a distant kingdom. I was born a rabbit. My destiny was simply to die in a laboratory. But becoming a hero doesn't happen overnight and destiny is a funny thing. In one moment the kindness of a stranger- or in my case a vampire - can change everything.
My name is Snow and I am a wererabbit.

Snow Everly was born a rabbit and believes that her destiny was to die in a cold laboratory. Then one winter night, a vampire named John breaks in searching for his missing research. When the lab goes up in flames he goes back and rescues her. He names her Snowball and has no idea that she is no ordinary rabbit. John's partner, Edgar tells him that he is now a father but it takes time for John to realize how right he is. When Snow turns three years old, Snow gains the ability to shift into a girl. Why was she created? Who and what are the mysterious figures following her? Follow Snow on her journey as she makes friends with werewolves, a telepathic mouse and searches for answers. Her dream is to one day become a hero and above all else - she wants to be accepted for who she is - a wererabbit.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M. Y. Zeman
• Release date: Nov 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311221865

M. Y. Zeman

M. Y. Zeman has a Master's Degree from Stonybrook University and a BA in Mathematics. She followed in her mother's footsteps and became a teacher of computers and math. She has worked as a professional web/graphic designer, creating many sites, including Tony Award winning actor Michael Cerveris' official site.She has been writing since she was old enough to read and has written short stories, articles and poetry. Her first book, Running into the Black is a courtroom drama.A lifelong fan of science fiction and fantasy, she is happy to be writing the new series Chronicles of a Wererabbit. The series will span seven books following Snow's journey to becoming a hero, solving the mystery of her creation and fighting the vampire queen Victoria.She currently lives in New York with her dog and three dwarf bunnies and is working on the fourth book, Snow Road.

Book preview

Introduction

I wasn’t born with a scar on my forehead; I am not a long lost heir to some distant kingdom. I don’t possess any magical power.

The destiny I was born to was simply to live and die in some laboratory.

My ability? To become small and furry.

But becoming a hero doesn’t happen overnight and destiny is a funny thing. In one moment the kindness of a stranger — or in my case a vampire — can open up a brand new path. The choice of whether or not to take that path was up to me.

My name is Snow and I am a Wererabbit.

Part I

The Little Rabbit

Prologue

I snatched the key ring and ran back to Josh’s cage. I didn’t know which key would fit so I had to try them all. The young werewolf yelled and pounded on the glass as he watched me. Look out! Behind you! Run!

I looked over my shoulder and saw the man that I had bitten run in.

I couldn’t stop now. I kept trying key after key. Then, with one of the wrong keys still hanging in the lock, I felt strong hands grab me. I turned around to push him away, but he lifted me easily by the neck and held me against the wall.

Whatever you are, you are ours now! he growled.

I wasn’t strong enough to fight him off so I panicked. This is the end, I thought. I had failed. I wondered if Dad and Edgar would ever know what had happened to me...

Wait a minute…I am getting ahead of myself. The true origin of this story begins long before. On the day a certain vampire decided to go back into a burning building and save a little rabbit and change the course of her life.

First, you need to be aware of events that occurred when I was too young to remember or that I was not present for.

Second, forget everything you think you know about vampires and werewolves...

ONE

Rescue at Night

New York, December 1999

This is how it begins…

The wind blew giant, glistening spirals of snow through the night air. John Everly switched on the windshield wipers of his pickup truck. He normally had a car but tonight he needed four wheel drive because of the weather and to cart back any of the things that were stolen from his lab.

He pulled to a slow stop and shut off the engine. Picking up the paper that was taped to his dashboard, he checked to make sure he had the directions right. He leaned over the passenger seat, rolled down the window to loosen the buildup of snow and looked out. Set back from the road there was a long building with a few large windows and a high slanted roof. In the dark it was hard to tell the color, but it looked ordinary enough, more like a greenhouse than a secret laboratory.

Edgar had called him during the day with the address. It had taken him a month but he had come through as usual. Edgar was John’s oldest friend and the only one he would trust with the task of finding his missing research.

John took off his gloves and blew into his hands and rubbed them together to help his circulation. Still cold, he opened up a cooler from the back seat. Inside was an assortment of vegetables, bread and fruit. He removed a small bottle labeled AB, the thickest, richest blood and the best choice to help warm him. There was no substitute for human blood. It was one of the burdens of being at the top of the food chain.

After drinking half of a bottle, John took a wool hat from the shelf above the steering wheel and pulled it over his short brown hair. His dark blue eyes reflected the experience and wisdom of his three hundred and fifty years while his handsome face appeared as no more than thirty-five.

Wrapping his coat around his body to protect himself from the cold and wind, he trudged to the building, leaving imprints a foot deep in the snow. He made his way up to the door and peered in. It was completely dark. He pulled down his sleeve to cover his fist and broke the glass. Reaching in, he undid the lock. The place was in the middle of nowhere so John flipped the switch by the door, turning on the overhead lights.

It opened into a long room — a larger but less sophisticated version of his lab. He scanned it looking for anything that was his. He recognized a few microscopes and pieces of equipment, but what he really wanted back was his research.

He spotted a staircase at the back of the room leading up. He passed several shelves that were full of jars on his way back. Pausing to look in one, he saw what looked like a fetus of some kind. Looking closer, it appeared to be part human and part reptile. The same seemed to be true about all the jars. Aside from the gruesome jars, there were many empty cages and fish tanks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement in the one tank that wasn’t empty. He walked over and spotted a small white bunny standing on its hind legs trying to catch a whiff of John’s scent. In the tank, he saw three other baby bunnies that were all dead. There was a clipboard hanging above the cage holding a stack of papers. John began to flip through them when the lights began flickering above. Damn weather, he thought. The power had gone out in many areas. Leaving the rabbit, he hurried upstairs. A long, thin shadow passed behind him unnoticed.

The second floor contained more equipment but also a line of file cabinets. He opened some drawers and began thumbing through the files.

Finally finding some of his work, he pulled several folders out and piled them on the table next to him. Checking in the folders, he saw that it was his research on werewolves: physical description, behavior and most importantly their DNA.

The overhead lights went out completely so John took out a flashlight he had in his coat pocket. Holding it in his mouth, he continued his search.

He didn’t see the tall shadow and pair of burning yellow eyes behind him. A chill tickled the hair on the nape of his neck but when he looked back nothing was there.

About ten minutes later, he caught the faint scent of smoke wafting its way from downstairs. He picked up the folders and started making his way out. The smell grew stronger as he started down the staircase.

The first floor was on fire. He could hear crackling and hissing as the fire devoured leftover chemicals. The flames were licking the ceiling and spreading quickly. Soon the whole room was engulfed.

He stuffed his folders in his coat and began to run out. He had just reached the door when he remembered the little rabbit. Covering his head as best he could, he ran back to the building and made his way back to the tank. The bunny was trembling and trying to hide under the bedding. John reached in and snatched it.

He tried to balance it on top of his folders as he ran out. The smoke had consumed the room and was burning his lungs. Holding his breath, he squinted, trying to see where he was going. Small explosions started going off behind him as the fire reached some of the combustible chemicals.

One side of a large supporting beam came crashing down in front of him causing him to stumble back. He lost grip of the bunny for an instant and it fell but he managed to catch it saying under his breath, I’ve got you.

His precious files dropped instead and he abandoned them, sidestepping and ducking under the fallen beam. The rabbit dug its nails into his shirt and he could feel the tiny thing’s heart racing even faster than his own.

There was a huge explosion just as he felt the night air. It caused him to fall face first down. The little bunny flew from his hands and disappeared in a puff of snow several feet away. John watched as it climbed out and shook itself off. It hopped toward him disappearing in another puff of snow and another before he found himself nose to nose with the little animal. It shook itself again and stared back at him with large dark eyes. It was pure white and almost invisible in the snow. Up close he could see it was only a baby and could not have weighed more than a pound.

He picked it up and carried it to the truck. Scrounging through the back, he found an appropriately sized box and placed the bunny inside, put it on the passenger seat and drove off.

* * *

It was a four hour drive back to his apartment outside New York City. He had taken residence in the basement of an empty three story building. It was large enough to house his own lab and far enough away from other people to ensure privacy. The city had never bothered to disconnect the water and a generator provided him with electricity.

He locked up the vehicle and carried the box inside and downstairs to the lower level.

The steps led down into a large open area that John had set up as a living room, kitchen and office. Directly ahead was a well-worn couch, recliner and a coffee table piled high with books and tapes. A stand with a television and a DVD player was set up and behind it a stereo.

Along the left wall several sets of shelves held more books, DVDs and CDs. The shelves were overstuffed and the wood curved down, groaning from the weight. His reading material consisted of mostly science journals and texts on biology, genetics and chemistry.

The video tapes contained science programs from PBS. There was also an assortment of black and white films, BBC mysteries and science fiction movies.

To the right was a small kitchen with a refrigerator, stove, and microwave. Wooden cabinets were hung above a matching counter. A table for two was nearby. There were dirty dishes in the sink and still on the counter. Used red and white towels were wrung out and left about.

Past the living room area was where John spent most of his time. Rows of filing cabinets and shelves with packing boxes were on both sides. The corner of the room was filled with test tubes, beakers, and all sorts of lab equipment. The equipment included everything from a basic microscope to a set of sophisticated computers and a holographic table.

The main area narrowed to a corridor with a bedroom, bathroom and storage room.

He sat down at his desk and felt his ears to make sure he hadn’t lost his hearing aids in the fire.

There was a mirror that hung behind his desk. It was the first gift Edgar had given him and to this day the most thoughtful. He’d given it to him not long after they met as kids. He had hung it in John’s old room in a similar place, on the wall facing the door.

"There, Edgar had said. Now you can see if someone comes in — even if you cannot hear them. No one can surprise you."

On the back was the inscription:

Dear John,

A mirror — a vampires’ best friend

Love Edgar.

John had to replace the glass over the years when it had cracked, but the wooden back with Edgar’s handwriting etched in was still there.

Once John had set the box down on his desk, he removed the baby bunny and held it in one hand while he took out a pair of tweezers with another. He plucked out a few strands of fur and set them on a slide. The bunny tried to squirm out of his grip so he put it back in the box.

So, now, let’s see what they did to you. He put the slide inside a larger machine and switched it on. A series of lights around the table came on, creating a holographic image of the fur. He touched the image between his fingers and zoomed in until a close up of a DNA molecule was hovering over his desk. Sitting back he glanced at the tiny rabbit.

Oh, my God. How extraordinary.

TWO

What are Little Wererabbits Made of?

John woke up lying face down on his bed, still in his clothes from the previous night. The first rays of dawn would pierce the horizon in about two hours. He wiped the spit from his pillow, squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again, trying to remember where he was.

He got up and could feel the snow soaked clothes sticking to his thin body. He massaged his temple with his fingers. He’d obviously been outside. He hadn’t gotten drunk. This was an everyday occurrence for John. He peeled off his clothes and slipped on a dry shirt, still thinking.

He looked around the bedroom and, like the other rooms, there were post-its strewn on the walls reminding him of things simple and otherwise.

There was a huge poster of the periodic table opposite the bed. He immediately began rattling off the elements to himself like the alphabet. This was a device that helped his mind get going.

In the bathroom he read the post-it saying, ‘brush teeth, shave, wash face, comb hair.’ He kept reciting the elements as he ran the brush on his teeth, his mouth full of toothpaste foam. The evening finally came back to him like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The most important one caused him to drop his comb and leave the bathroom with his hair still sticking up wildly.

He went into the living room and saw the brown box on his desk. When he opened it the little bunny that he’d rescued peeked up, sniffing the air. He took it out and put it on the desk. The bunny immediately hopped off and gave him a brief chase through the basement before he finally cornered it.

John brought the rabbit back and put it back in the box. Maybe it was hungry.

He went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to see what he had. It was stocked with bottles labeled O, A, B, and AB. There was usually an assortment of fruits and vegetables but now there was only a browning half head of lettuce and celery. He couldn’t remember the last time he went shopping. Throwing out the lettuce, he picked up the celery for the bunny and a piece of cold pizza for himself.

After dropping the celery in the box with the rabbit, John sat down at his desk and began writing in a new journal. The bunny sniffed the celery curiously. Once it took a nibble it proceeded to chomp away.

As he licked the tomato sauce from his fingers, John searched through his files until he found the one labeled rabbits. It did not take long to realize that the research he had done was from observing wild rabbits. There was only one option. He had to ask a human.

He closed the lid of the box again so she would stay put, checked the phone book for the nearest pet shop and left. Two minutes later he returned to grab his coat and wallet then set off again.

* * *

A little bell jingled as John entered the store and the scent of animals rushed over him like a wave of dirty water. A teenage girl with blue hair and a nose ring asked if she could help him then led him to an aisle labeled ‘small pet.’

The alfalfa and Timothy hay, she said, hoisting two large bags into his arms,are the most important. Rabbits need a constant supply or their digestive system shuts down so make sure you always leave some out. Give her alfalfa when she is young and then switch her over to the Timothy hay. She dropped her voice conspiratorially. Forget about all these fancy treats. They are a ton of calories and sugar. You will end up with a butterball bunny if you aren’t careful. She should have lots of dark leafy greens every day but they should make up only twenty percent of her diet, the rest should be hay.

She walked over to the cat aisle and picked up a litter box and bag of paper litter. Rabbits are really smart. They will use a litter box but be sure to use paper not rough wood cuttings. She stowed the litter inside the box and gave it a little pat. And do yourself a favor, spend the extra two bucks and get the white paper litter labeled ‘ultra’ or ‘complete.’ It’s the difference between, — she pinched her nostrils — P-U-E and — she let out a slow exhale, Ahhhhh. Do you hear what I am saying?

John nodded and tapped his hearing aid.

Noticing it, she stopped. I am sorry. Did you need me to repeat anything?

No, thank you. You were very informative.

She helped him carry everything to the register. So how old is your rabbit? She rang up his items and packed them in two large paper bags with handles.

I’m not sure exactly. He opened his wallet and handed her cash. I’d approximate three to four months.

Oh, a baby! So you are a Daddy now. How does that feel?

John put away his wallet and picked up the bags. I am not really a father.

She smiled. You are — you just don’t know it yet.

He read the name on her tag. Thank you, Red. Red?

Yes?

I was just wondering if your name is Red why have you dyed your hair blue?

It more adequately reflects the conflict I have within myself and the universe at large.

Oh, I see. He dropped his change into the can labeled ‘Save the Animals’. Well done then.

The little bell above the door jingled again as he left.

* * *

Edgar Lewis found the abandoned building where John had made his home. He skipped down the metal stairs to the expansive basement. Shafts of light streaked down through the dirt covered windows, signifying the new day.

Edgar had smartly cut pitch-black hair. His eyes were striking — two large pools of luminescent green framed by thick black lashes. He usually wore a playful grin befitting of his good natured disposition.

You always manage to find the most unappealing places in spite of getting the best territories, Edgar said. He was referring to the fact that vampires each were given areas to hunt in. Since John was a First blood — descended directly from the first vampires — he had his choice of the most populated areas. Territories were supposed to change every few decades but since the fall of the old vampire kingdom and more recently, the plague that nearly wiped out the entire vampire race, territories were recognized more as a courtesy than a rule.

Edgar’s family was many generations removed from the First bloods. He had grown up in the old kingdom where his family made their