The keys were the most bothersome part. He could leave his clothes in the truck, of course, but, even on a cool November night such as this, there was always that chance that some random person would wander into the woods and see his mud-splattered â84 F150 and think it was worth messing with. He obviously wasnât going to be able to hang onto them himself, so his last ditch solution was to drop them into a Ziploc bag and bury them at the base of a nearby tree. He covered the site with a scattering of leaves and then marked the tree with urine. Satisfied that he would be able to locate them when he returned, he gave in to his yearning and let the night take him.
The shift from man into wolf was not as dramatic or even as noticeable physically as it had been in the early months of the condition. He had been doing it for so long now that his two personas had formed a symbiosis. He had always been somewhat beastly, even when he was fully human, and he had come to enjoy the freedom of ferality now that there was no longer pain involved in the transition. He liked being a monster and, so far, he had been cunning enough in both forms to not get caught.
Hunting deer, as he did this night, was fine but it was not his first choice. Deer were meat and nothing more. They only took care of the most basic cravings of the wolf. The hungers of his human side were more dangerous than those of his beast. Nothing compared to stalking humans. He loved tracking them in secret before they became aware of his presence. The smell of their fear when they finally realized the danger was exquisite and lingered later into the taste of their flesh. Enough of the man remained in him at all times to recognize their pleadings for mercy and to get a thrill from it. Deer never gave him that kind of excitement, never aroused him, but they were safe prey. No one would come tracking after him over the remnants of a deer carcass, should it be discovered. A savaged person was entirely different.
He ran for awhile, reveling in the scents and sounds, in the crunch of dead leaves and the rustlings of weaker animals fleeing his advance. He paused once at a mound of fresh deer scat, rolling in it and even tasting it, then trotted off leisurely after his quarry. There was no need to rush. It was nearby and had no chance against him. Minute later, he caught the fragrance of the creature itself. He went into stalking mode, crouched down and silent, letting his senses inform him while he waited. The doe was drinking from a puddle in a well-worn path. Her left rear leg twitched just the tiniest bit as she drank. The autumn breeze ruffled her hair beguilingly and carried the musk to his nostrils. He inhaled her deeply, salivating involuntarily as the aroma filled him.
He watched her finish her drink and move a few steps away from the path, where she found some sumac. His hindquarters quivered and his stomach rumbled in anticipation as he prepared to rush her, but the meal had not completely distracted her. Her head shot up and she bolted. He was inches behind her. He was actually faster than her, but the chase was the best part. He would get close enough to give her a nip, let her edge ahead, and then leap in front of her, forcing her to make sudden turns she was not prepared for. He could hear her heart pounding and savored her terror. Not human, but good enough for now.
The pleasure of the pursuit consumed him. The doe darted out of the woods and across a road with the wolf nearly under her flying feet. He was focused on her and did not see the SUV that struck him broadside. He was thrown into the air and came crashing down on the hood. The vehicle screeched and he braced himself for an impact that never happened. A combination of the brakes and a thick clump of bushes brought it to rest at the side of the road. The deer safely escaped back into the trees before the wolf even managed to open his eyes. The human in him had the disoriented thought, âWhat the hell was that?â and was stunned to hear it spoken in a resonating male voice at the same moment.
A large man was cautiously walking around the hood, muttering as the shrubbery assaulted him. He heard the passenger door scraping against the foliage and the soft cursing of his wife as she tried to force it open enough to allow her an exit.
âStay in the Jeep, Heather,â he called. âWhatever it is, it isnât dead.â
Heather closed her door and scooted into the driverâs seat. She rolled down the window and stuck her head out. âIs it a coyote, Steve?â
Steve snorted. âNot unless itâs been eating super grow. Itâs some kind of dog or maybe a wolf, but itâs the weirdest, ugliest looking one Iâve ever seen.â
âMaybe it looked better before you ran into it.â Heather replied in the sweet, sarcastic, mocking voice he despised. Heâd rather hear nails on a chalkboard than that syrupy tone, and she knew it. âWhat are you doing?â
âUnless I want to take it home as a hood ornament,â he answered evenly, though his nails were digging into his palms with the effort, âI need to get it off of here. Iâd like to do that without getting bit, if you donât mind, so why donât you sit back and shut up." He wondered what he had done to deserve this night. It had begun pleasantly enough. He and Heather were not fighting, for a change, and had gone out to dinner. A movie had been planned for later, but a trip to the restroom had altered the course of the evening. As he approached their table, he saw Heather playing with his cell phone. She smiled and said, in the same tone she would use after the accident:
"Tonya had fun this morning. She hopes you can stop by again tomorrow." She flipped the phone closed and said thoughtfully, "Maybe you shouldn't keep her waiting that long. How does tonight work for you?" They had left before ordering and this was their first conversation since. It was absolutely the night from Hell.
The wolf listened to the couple without moving. He was hurt, but healing fast and thinking even faster. His dinner menu had been upgraded. Let them think dogâŚhe would momentarily forgive the weird and ugly remark. He whined piteously in what he hoped was a fair imitation of a dog. For good measure, he gave two weak thumps of his tail against the hood. His head was facing the windshield. He could see the woman inside. He let his tongue loll out and gave her his best innocent look. It was not an easy trick for him, but he saw the sympathy on her face and was encouraged. He touched one of his paws to the windshield directly in front of her and thumped his tail again, a bit higher and louder to make sure she noticed.
Steve was trying to both keep an eye on the thing on his SUV and search the shadows for a fallen limb to push it off when he heard Heather open the driverâs door. âDammit, Heather! I told you to stay in there!â
She ignored him stepped gingerly up to get a good look at the wolf by the light of the carâs interior. He whined again and reached a paw towards her. âAwww. The poor thing. Look at him, Steve. We need to get him to a vet.â
Steve grabbed her arm and yanked her backwards, taking a childish inner delight as the thorny bushes made her wince. âWhat part of stay in the Jeep do you not understand? That is not Lassie.â
Heather slapped his hands away. âYeah, youâd know for sure if it was a girl, wouldnât you?â
Steve gritted his teeth. âFor your information, Lassie was a male and now is not the time to get into another argument. If youâre going to stay out here, then at least be useful for a change and help me find something to shove it with.â
âShove it yourself,â Heather retorted. âIâm taking him with us.â
âThe hell you are! Not in my Jeepâ
âWho died and made you King shite of Turd Mountain? Iâll do whatever I want, and the Jeep isnât yours yet. Iâm taking him home.â
The wolf lay on the hood, fully recovered now, but watching the action. Dinner and a show! His tail thumped steadily now, and he meant it. It may have even been worth getting struck. Heather marched back to the vehicle and, shooting a defiant look at her husband, began stroking the wolfâs head and checking him for injuries. The wolf would have laughed if he had been able to. He licked her forearm. Delicious. She smiled down at him.
Steve let out an âAha!â as he finally discovered a broken branch half buried in mud. By the time he had worked his way back to them, Heather was already struggling to pull the wolf into her arms, but he was too heavy for her. Her feet slipped and she went down in the muck, the wolf on top of her. She tried to stand but couldnât get out from under him. He laid limply on herâŚalmost. The excitement was starting to build. She felt it and tried harder to escape, but the squirming made him even more eager. He nipped her chin hard enough to make her yelp. The blood was sweet. He took a long lick just as Steve hit him on the head with the branch.
In an instant, the pathetic dog became the monster he truly was. He abandoned Heather and leaped after Steve, who swung at him wildly with the branch. He hooked the branch with his claws and wrenched it away. Steve backed away slowly in confused horror as the wolf stood up on his hind feet like a man and began walking (walking?!?!) after him. Steve looked for another branch, but saw nothing in the darkness but thorns and weeds. The wolf continued itâs slow, steady approach. Even in the dimness, he could see the glisten of its fangs, Dear God, it was smiling! His feet were suddenly on firm ground and he realized heâd backed clear onto the road. The night was silent except for Steveâs huffing and the rising growl from the wolfâs throat.
There was nowhere to go, but Steve couldnât help it. He began to run, knowing that the wolf was sprinting just behind him on four legs again. It was toying with him. He felt it swiping at him, tugging at his hair, ripping into his shirt. The panic was so overwhelming that it was almost a relief when it tackled him. He pitched forward and rolled with the wolf biting at his hands and arms. His screams were drowned out by the revving of the SUV and the squeal of tires on the road.
The wolf hurdled Steve, aiming head on for the Jeep. It tried to make the hood, but misjudged the distance. Steve rolled out of the way as the Jeep slammed into the wolfâs gut, knocking the wind out of it and sending it skidding into the road. Heather rammed it before it could get it's bearings, backed up, and then rammed it again. The wolf lay in the road curled in a fetal position, but it looked less like a wolf now and more like the man it sometimes was. He moaned, but did not get up. This time, it was no ruse.
Heather got out of the Jeep and went to Steve, who had managed to get back onto his feet. She cringed at the sight of him, bruised, bitten, and bleeding from half a dozen places, but then put her arm around his waist to steady him and helped him into the passengerâs seat.
âWeâll go to the hospital,â she said as she buckled him in. âIâll send someone back out for that.â
Steve gazed somberly at her face and said quietly, âThis wouldnât have happened if youâd stayed in here like I told you to.â
Heather froze, the buckle still under her hand. âWhat did you just say?â she asked carefully.
âYou heard me. You always do stupid shite like that. See what happens? You never listen to me. No wonder I went looking for someone else.â
Heather looked him in the eye, unbuckled him, and yanked him out of the Jeep before he had a chance to resist. Steve landed on his knees and elbows on the road. He began to crawl as Heather kicked furiously at him and struck his head with her fists. He didnât even realize she was herding him towards the naked man/wolf until he was nearly touching his feet. She suspended her attack on Steve, grabbed a handful of the other manâs hair and jerked his head up.
âYou!â she snarled. âDo you have anything to say to me?â
He still had the face of the wolf, but managed a nearly human voice. âSor-ry,â he whisper/growled. âSor-ry.â He licked her hand and twisted his head out of her grip, baring his throat in submission. She stood over them for a moment, deep in thought. At last, she patted the wolfish head. âGood boy.â She glanced at Steve, who was beginning scoot away from them, and smiled at him. âSteve, I think youâve just been replaced.â
Steve weakly spat at her. "You b****!"
Heather rubbed the sore spot on her chin, felt the tingling sensation that was spreading from the wound and into her veins, and said in all seriousness, "You've said that to me before. For the first time, I think you may be right. She scratched the man/wolfâs head. âWhen youâve finished with him, get into my Jeep. Iâm taking you home.â
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Wow, a little confusing to me (just plot twisty) I enjoy it. Slightly confusing, and I can scarcely imagine how you will explain that! Thumbs up so far.
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Yummy, great, we need more like this.
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This was a rather dark, yet addictive and inspirational story, Mavra. I enjoyed the descriptions and the character development, but you also kept it short enough to be used in a short story contest or two. It stands by itself without further explanation, and doesn't beg for continuation either. The events in the storyline were practical and easy to accept. Very nice!
Your grammar and spelling was sound, and your descriptive language was set at a very decent level. There may have been an unnecessary comma or two somewhere, but I'd have to look another time. the story flow was impeccable and the structure was solid as well.
After I read it, I could picture this story being an episode of Tales from the Crypt or something along those lines. Both the twist and the dark nature of the story makes it something that may gain a fan base easily if placed in the right area.
Great Job, Mavra!
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