Simon lay in the hospital bed too afraid to move. It had been a bad night... no, it had been a terrifyingly dreadful night! Everything that could gave gone wrong had done so, and the worst was yet to come. This was supposed to be a simple burglary, a quick in and out, instead—

The power suddenly went out, filling the room with a series of electronic screams. Simon gritted his teeth. [i]Of course this would happen![/i] He really was hoping to be out of the hospital today, although knowing his luck that seemed unlikely. And all this for a single lousy feather!

There was a knock on the door. Seconds later it freaked open, letting a rather skinny asian woman in. To call her unbeautiful would be unfair, to call her human—double so.

"Hello, Simon," she said softly. As her words sounded power was restored to the room. "I see you're doing well... considering."

"You bitch!" Simon hissed, biting his tongue in the process. "You didn't tell me there was a misfortune hound there!"

"I warned you it would be protected." She looked around, then pulled the only unbroken chair and sat down.

"But a misfortune hound?!" Simon instinctively reached fir his mouth. As expected he had managed to cut his tongue and now his mouth was filling with blood. "Do you know what I've been through? The alarm went off before I even got to it. Some idiot showed up, fired a warning shot in the air, which got the chandelier crashing on me. I lost my gear while—"

"That's what happens when misfortune dogs bite you," the woman said with a snide. "Let me have a look."

With one brisk action she pulled back the lower part of the blanket, then—before Simon could protest—unceremoniously pulled up his pajamas and began staring at his legs. At first glance they seemed like normal legs: straight, slightly hairy, with a few old scars near the left angle. For those who could see, though, there was more. Bite marks, invisible to the human eye were scattered round the left calf, each was marking a week of misfortune.

"Well?" Simon tried to move up to see what was going on. "How is it?"

"Bad," the woman said. Instantly the bed gave in, causing Simon to fall a few inches towards the floor. "Three months bad luck. At least."

"Just great!" Simon groaned. Of course it had to be a few months. It couldn't have been just a scratch.

"The hound got you good. It almost reached the bone." The woman leaned back and shook her head. "I did warn you. You remember this, tight? It wasn't just me imagining things."

"Yeah, yeah." [i]You did mention a word of warning, just as you do every time. And each time you skip the details![/i] "Can you fix it?"

"Hmm." The woman tapped her nose with her index finger. "Maybe. Would be expensive, though. Quite expensive. Did you get the feather?"

"I did," Simon said. The woman's eyes widened her lips curving in a content smile. "But I lost it as the ambulance was driving me here," he sighed.

"Of course," she let snorted. "At least he doesn't have it anymore. I guess that counts for something..." The woman stood up over him like a vicious predator. "I'll heal your misfortune." Her smile widened. "However, you'll do something for me. A word of warning, it might be more tricky than it seems..."