Chapter  1
Intruder

   
The front door creaked in the stale wind that swirled through the sleeping city. Somewhere in the back, a loose shutter beat a mindless rhythm against the faded siding. He circled the house warily, trying to separate the scent of the intruder from the stench of vomit and unwashed bodies that permeated the neighborhood. He caught a faint whiff of fruit in the dead bushes near the alley. A stronger scent lingered near the backyard shed.

A slow smile crept across his face as he glided towards the back of the house. He stopped in the deep shadows and shivered. The change rippled through him – a wave of popping, sliding bone and muscle that left him shuddering with pain and endorphins. His clothing faded into boiling fur. He shook off the familiar, addictive pleasure of the shift and bunched his hind-quarters. He uncoiled like a spring, rising effortlessly up three stories before rolling neatly through an empty window frame. He landed as the loose shutter, caught by a gust of wind, slammed into the side of the house with an echoing boom.  The linoleum was cold and damp under his paws. A sulfurous glow leaked under the door in front of him. The street lamps had long since burned out.

He inhaled deeply, moving slowly towards the door. He paused as a loose floorboard groaned on the other side of the door. Another deep breath and he launched himself through the door. Time slowed as he erupted on the other side in a shower of splinters and screams. At the far end of the hallway a young woman was spinning to sprint down the stairs – long yellow braids sticking out, glasses flashing, mouth stretched wide with terror, spittle splattering across the walls. Underneath him was a second young woman, screaming enraged curses.

“What the gently caress get the gently caress OFF ME I swear to God I’ll cut off your gently caressing BALLS you son of a b****!�

Time resumed its normal pace. He stepped off her back, ducked his head and licked his balls nervously. She picked herself up slowly, brushing off fragments of the smashed door, and swore at him and his ancestry with a creativity that made the other girl blush.
“Stop it! Are you okay? I’m okay!�
“Yeah I’m fine. Not like that wanker will be in ten minutes.�
They both turned and looked at him. He opened his mouth and grinned, letting his tongue loll out and drip drool on the floor.
“Um, is that him, Katie? Your werewolf?�
“Yeah. He is.�
The timid one stared at him, her bright eyes abnormally large through her glasses.
“Are you sure?�
“Yes, Rose, I’m sure! Just look at him! Have you ever seen a wild wolf stalk two humans in a house, smash through a wooden door, then gently caressing lick his balls and laugh?�
“Well, no. But are you sure he’s not just some weird dog? He’s kind of big and that’s pretty weird coloring. He looks kind of like a German shepherd but with blue eyes, you know? My uncle had a great Dane that used to stalk and scare people for fun.�
“He’s not a dog.�
“Um… have you ever, you know…seen him change?�
Katie sighed and closed her eyes. “No.�
It was barely a whisper, but Rose heard. She stared disbelievingly at him, then at Katie. She shook her head and said, “Sorry Katie, but I have an exam tomorrow. See you later.� With that she was gone. They listened to her footsteps go down the creaking staircase and out the gaping front door. She opened her eyes and stared at him.
“Now what?�

He turned and trotted down the hallway. She picked up the sputtering kerosene lantern and followed him. At the last door on the right he stopped and waited for her. He whined and scratched at the handle then looked pointedly at her. She stared at the door and frowned. “That door was padlocked last time.� He whined again and she tried the handle.
The door swung open and she gasped.
There was a thick, red Persian rug covering the floor that swallowed up the sounds of their entry. Mahogany bookcases filled with leather-bound books covered the walls from floor to ceiling. In the center of the small room were an ornately carved table, a deeply cushioned wine-red couch, and an old-fashioned brazier. As Katie moved forward, the light from the lantern illuminated a loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, a plain wine bottle, and a neon green cigarette lighter on the table. He regretted the cigarette lighter, but it had been all he could find on short notice. Katie rushed forward and picked up the bread. She broke it open, releasing a wave of rosemary and lavender.
“It’s fresh. Where does a dog like you get bread like this?�
He nudged the door closed and trotted over to the brazier. He circled it twice then flopped down and closed his eyes.
“Why didn’t you show this to me before Rose had a chance to question me? She would have believed me!�
He snorted and chewed on an itchy spot on his hip. He heard her pick up the wine bottle and pop the cork.
“Port. Nice.� She moved to the bookcases. He cringed.
“The Lycan Virus? Song of the Werewolf? The Real Beowulf? I’ve never seen these books before!� She eagerly pulled the first one off the shelf. He heard her gasp and drop the book. She grabbed the next and the next and the next, but they were all the same. He knew without looking.
“Where are the pages? What happened?� Hysteria edged her voice. “What’s going on!�
The beautifully crafted covers held blocks of wood. He squeezed his eyes tightly and waited for it to be over.

In the end, she pulled every book off the shelves. They now lay in heaps; their masquerade obvious in the yellow light. She walked to the table and picked up the lighter. He whimpered.
“Loosen up. I’m not going to burn them. Does that brazier work? It’s cold.� She walked over and lit it. He felt her hands slowly stroke his fur.
“What are you trying to tell me?� She mused aloud. He opened his eyes and licked her face. Spluttering, she stood up and tripped on the couch. He jumped up next to her and grinned.
“I’ll never get a straight answer out of you, will I?� She groaned.

They shared the bread and the cheese, but Katie would not give him any of the wine. She drank most of it before the brazier warmed the room to a comfortable level. The lantern dimmed and flickered, almost out of kerosene. She sighed sleepily and stretched out, using him like a pillow. He watched her eyes roam the room speculatively. He liked her new haircut. Wispy brown curls were pinned back haphazardly, framing her round face and emphasizing her light brown eyes.
She was frowning, deep in thought.
“I know you aren’t a dog. You killed those men. I don’t care what the doctors said about shock and blood loss, I saw you. And afterwards. There was no Good Samaritan who stopped the bleeding and called the cops. That was you.  But why won’t you change now? I want to talk to you! All my life I have studied the ancient myths. But when a walking myth saves my life and haunts me afterward, he insists on acting like a dumb dog! Just my luck.â€� As she drifted off, she was no longer talking to him.
“No one believes me. I know what I saw! I know it’s real! And now this? A fake library about werewolves? What are the odds? It has to be real. It has to be real.� She started to mumble, and then to snore. Eventually, the lamp went out.
Her dreams were violent and frightening. He felt her writhe and whimper next to him, and did his best to comfort her. She would wake up dazed with sleep, grab him like a stuffed toy, and fall into unconsciousness again. Her dreams became more peaceful as dawn approached. He could feel the change in the air currents and slowly wormed his way out of her arms. He padded softly to the door and slipped out into the hallway. Gray light was slowly filtering into the house through the front windows as he trotted to the disintegrated bathroom where he had made his entry and jumped back out the window. He shifted, grinding his teeth as he made the more painful transition to humanity, and walked down the street to the Mini-Mart on the corner.

“One large black coffee please.� The attendant stared at him. He looked down at himself and winced. He hadn’t been focusing during the shift. He was wearing blue tights, a doublet, and soft brown leather boots. He smiled sheepishly at the attendant.
“Costume party?�
The attended looked at his mouth and paled.
“Monster party?� He groped for a money pouch and sighed with relief as his fingers grazed soft leather. He pulled out a twenty and waved it at the shell-shocked young man. It worked. The attendant kept the change but he didn’t argue.
He hurried back to the abandoned house, put the coffee on the front steps, ran to the back, and ducked inside the shed.
"One more shift. Flat teeth this time." He thought.
The blue tights became old blue jeans and the doublet became a black trench coat. He kept the boots. They were comfortable. Then he waited. Katie would wake when the sunlight reached the back room.
His stomach growled as he watched a squirrel dash across the yard. He had shifted three times with nothing but bread and cheese to sustain the transformations. The hunger gnawed at him but not strongly. He could hold onto the human shape for a few more hours.
The sun rose above the skyline, casting sudden warmth into the shed. He stretched and sighed.
"Humans sleep too long. Makes their lives shorter." He thought.
He started counting the number birds in the neighborhood.

52 birds later, he heard Katie walking down the stairs. Her steps faded as she walked away from him toward the front door. He heard her gasp when she saw the coffee, and he smiled. Three minutes later he left the shed and followed her down the street towards the University of Memphis.

Last edited by Little Blackfoot (2010-01-13 21:17:07)