by Brent Miller
Cursed
Brent Miller
Other books by Brent Miller
The Z Virus: Outbreak
Cursed
Copyright © 2019 by Brent Miller
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of short quotations in critical articles and reviews. For permissions, contact Brent Miller at www.brentmillerbooks.com
Cover by Anton Rosovsky
ISBN: 9781093777093
First edition, 2019
Prologue
Garrick watched with despair as the moon rose into the sky, once again sealing his fate. Though he hated what he was going to become, he’d nearly given up fighting it. He knew he would never win, and all it caused was more agony. So he followed his friends to the woods – all of them walking in a group – repeatedly scanning the area, assessing his surroundings with each new step. Garrick hadn’t seen anyone for a mile, but he wanted to be sure that there were no people anywhere he would feasibly travel. One thing he always knew he could trust was Aldric’s desire to keep them as far away from people as possible. It was vital to protect the public, of course, but themselves as well. Still, he couldn’t fight his instincts of confirming there was no one Aldric missed. To Aldric, it was about the pack, and Garrick couldn’t shake the feeling that collateral damage may be an acceptable price of keeping them alive.
“Here,” Aldric growled. The pack all spread out, giving themselves space as the moon climbed toward its zenith. Garrick watched as the silvery orb pushed its way higher in the sky. As a child, he’d always looked upon that same sight with joy and wonder. The beauty of the full moon shining, illuminating the night sky, had filled him with a sense of mysticism. It wasn’t until recently that his perceptions had been shattered. All he could see now was grey. Gloom and darkness. As if the moon itself had lost its shine.
Aldric was the first to change, as always. He was the largest and most powerful of the pack, and Garrick could only assume that helped expedite the process. Whatever beast lurked under Aldric’s skin was strong, so pushing its way to the surface was simple. Of course, it was bound to help that he did nothing to try to stop it. His teeth grew sharper, and his hair longer. His nails sharpened into claws as he cracked his neck, breaking the bones to allow them to reform according to his new shape. A slight pain was visible on his face – it seemed to be impossible to avoid that. His entire body was breaking down and being built back up. Even the strongest man would hurt. The pain was to be expected, but what was unsettling to Garrick was the pleasure. Aldric liked what was happening.
Cailean and Brooke seemed to be one as their bodies started to twitch. They both fell to their knees violently, trying to fight the convulsions that came with the horrifying expansion of bone and muscle. Garrick couldn’t tell what made their transformations so much more violent than Aldric’s. Maybe it was just time and experience. They fought back the screams of agony, probably more concerned about appearances than anything else. Cailean wanted to look strong, and Brooke just didn’t want to look weak.
Cailean bit his lip, and Garrick watched as the teeth grew sharper and punctured the skin. As the wound started to bleed, his mouth elongated to allow for the new teeth, slowly forming a snout. Cailean’s arms bulged, muscles shaping themselves around his already chiseled physique. With a loud snap, Cailean’s legs twisted out of their sockets, and he dropped to the ground, unable to support himself on broken knees. His hands spasmed as he curled them into fists, probably digging claws deep into his palms.
Brooke finally released her pent-up scream as she dropped to the ground. She threw her palms out to catch herself, refusing to collapse. When her palm hit the ground, though, there was no semblance of humanity. A light coating of fur had covered her hands, and her fingers shrunk back as the hand itself grew into a paw. Her legs reshaped along with her arms. Her toes stretched, allowing her to stand again – her toes and front paws on the floor.
Hayden gave a short half smile to Garrick. She watched as he turned away and slammed a fist into a tree. The wood cracked, and Garrick almost feared it would fall over. She knew how much he hated it, and he could feel that she at least didn’t get the same sick pleasure that Aldric did. But she didn’t fight it; she never did. Not like him.
She screamed. She’d always had the lowest pain tolerance of any of them. Whether she wanted to or not, she couldn’t handle the transformation like the others could. Watching the agony on her face just made the entire process worse for Garrick. He hated seeing her like that almost as much as he hated the monsters they all became. After the change, though, she was one of the more powerful wolves, only bested by Aldric and Cailean. Garrick wondered if that was part of what made the change so hard on her.
Hayden’s eyes lightened. All the light that the moon had lost had been stolen by her eyes, which shone a lighter, more brilliant blue than he’d ever seen. She dropped to all fours as her back broke. Garrick could see the curvature change as it started to reform, and it elongated, protruding from her body. Though the process was fast, he was able to not only distinctively see the bone, but to watch as muscle, flesh, and finally fur surrounded her new tail. Her face twisted as it grew and stretched, and her ears grew to a point as fur coated them.
Garrick felt the beast pushing its way to the surface. He fought it with all the might he could muster, but he could practically feel claws scratching at his insides. It felt as if the beast threatened to tear him apart, taking his body by force. He saw his pack, three of them roaming around him; waiting for him to give up.
He could see miles away, picking up the slightest movements through the trees. And he could actually smell the town, although they were far enough out to be confident none of them would go there in the night. They’d be scared off by the lights and sounds, even of a sleeping town. Still, he could smell gasoline as cars drove, and if he tried, he could even hear the voices of people wandering the streets. They lived in a world he’d taken for granted – but would give anything to get back. The city taunted him with the life he’d lost, the smells and sounds of a world he used to call home.
“I know it’s hard, Garrick,” Chase said, placing a hand on Garrick’s shoulder and pulling him out of his self-pity. He was the only one who shared Garrick’s hatred of the monsters that hid beneath the surface. “We just have to trust Aldric.” Garrick had trouble with the concept of blind trust. On nights when the moon was full, he lived in constant fear of harming the innocent. How could he wipe those fears away and simply trust someone who didn’t seem to care?
Chase removed his hand from Garrick’s shoulder quickly as he clenched his teeth and fists. Garrick watched as his jaw expanded, but Chase didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t the strongest of them all, but he was the best at biting back the pain. He wouldn’t let it show – that was a victory that he always tried to keep over the wolf. Even so, Garrick could see it in his eyes. Chase’s hands began to bleed as his fingernails grew, but he refused to open his fists.
Garrick felt his own canines forcing their way out, and tears formed in his eyes. Not from the pain, but from his defeat. It was only a matter of time. Before the change started, he was able to hold on to the admittedly delusional idea that he could stop it. As soon as his body started to transform, though, he knew there was no going back.
He dropped to the ground, falling to his hands and knees. Hayden inched closer to him, and she snuggled her body closer to his. She could sense his pain, both physical and emotional. Of course, as bones were ripped out of their sockets and muscles and tendons were torn, anyone could pick up on it. As his calcaneal tendon snapped, an earsplitting sound, almost like a gunshot, reverberated through the woods. He could see sadness on Hayden’s face, but she just nuzzled her head against
him.
Garrick’s shirt was torn, and he watched as the three lines – the scar that had ruined his life – were slowly covered by hair. He saw the muscles in his arms expand and felt them as they tore and reformed.
His shoulders dislocated, and he dropped to the ground, unable to hold himself up any longer. He still had some illusion that he could keep it out, but no matter how much he fought, it never stopped anything. It just made the change – and the pain that came with it – last longer.
He could tsee Hayden’s pleading eyes, begging him to just let go. Aldric had disapproval in his gaze. Cailean was already gone, and Brooke was sniffing for prey. Chase stood tall at Garrick’s other side, as if attempting to give Garrick the strength he clearly lacked.
Garrick was getting dizzy. He felt himself growing weaker. He knew he couldn’t fight much longer, and he knew that even if he did, it wouldn’t matter. He tried to move, but his muscles couldn’t produce the force required. Any shred of control he had over his body started to fade, and he started to become a passenger. Garrick was almost able to struggle back onto his hands and knees before he fell to the ground again as every bone in his legs shattered.
He looked up and saw Chase. The only reason he was recognizable was the fact that he was still standing in the same place, not far from Garrick. He stood on all fours, about four feet tall from the top of his pointed ears to the bottom of his paws. His tail hung limply behind him, and his neck, which had stretched slightly in the change, was coated in fur, as was most of his snout. The rest of his body had a thin layer of fur, but mostly was just the darkened skin of the wolf.
Garrick blinked, and his vision quickly faded. He knew he didn’t have control anymore. He looked up at the sky, feeling his face elongate quickly, and howled.
Chapter 1
Two Years ago
Garrick sat in his usual seat in the back of the classroom, staring solely at the clock. His head wasn’t in the lecture – not in the slightest. He was lost somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, daydreaming up stories of himself as a hero, rescuing a damsel in distress.
In his head, he was revered. People knew him – and they respected him. He could do things no one else could. Sometimes he could fly, other times he had superhuman strength, and others still he just knew how to fight. In every daydream, though, he stood up to any challenge that presented itself. There was no rival too intimidating for him; No foe he couldn’t take down.
But as the bell rang to dismiss them from class, he was pulled away from that. He was pulled into anonymity – the monotonous, daily life of a high school sophomore. He was average here. He wasn’t particularly smart, not athletic, and definitely not brave. Out here, he was no hero.
Garrick shook his head lightly, forcing him back into a world that he didn’t feel was home. He waited a moment as the rest of the class stood and started heading to the door. He wasn’t particularly in a rush, so why fight the crowd? When the room cleared up, he begrudgingly stood and followed the other students. As he walked, he kept his head down and his backpack slung over his right shoulder.
“Hey!” A freshman stood just down the hall, reaching for a backpack which was being held much higher in the air than he could possibly reach. Of course, the perpetrator was none other than Cailean Phoenix. The stereotypical jock – big, strong, and a complete jerk. He towered over the poor kid, laughing as the freshman jumped up and down in a futile attempt to retrieve his belongings.
This scene was too familiar – nearly a daily occurrence in the halls. In his head, Garrick had fought this fight before. He had stood up to Cailean and pushed him back. He had taken the bag back, given it to whichever kid Cailean was tormenting that day, and then ducked under Cailean’s punch. In his head, Garrick had hit Cailean once, knocking him to the floor. But this wasn’t his head. Out here, that fight was hopeless. All he could do was stand aside.
“Garrick Elliott,” Tyler said, tapping on Garrick’s shoulder, “Hello?”
“What?” Garrick asked, startled back to the real world and away from his thoughts. Tyler knew Garrick well enough to know what was running through his mind. They’d been friends since they were in elementary school, and Garrick had always been the same. He was a dreamer, always locked in his imagination. Over the years, Tyler had gotten his friend’s attention that same way countless times.
“Look, there’s nothing you can do, man. He’s like twice your size.” Exaggerating was an understatement for what Tyler was doing. Cailean wasn’t taller than Garrick, who stood around 5 feet 9 inches. Even taking into account musculature, Cailean wasn’t significantly larger. He wasn’t as bulked up as half of the other kids surrounding him. The problem was simply that Garrick had no muscle supporting his thin frame, and Cailean was nearly the opposite. As much as Garrick hated to admit it, any attempt to fight would just leave him broken like a twig.
“I know,” Garrick said. “I just wish that I could –”
“Trust me,” Tyler said. “I know. But you can’t try to be a hero. Just remember that guys like him live for high school – it’s the best four years of their lives.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. My life is only getting better.” Garrick had heard the speech too many times. He’d heard it from his mom, from Tyler, and even from a teacher on one occasion.
“Who cares about that part?” Tyler laughed. “I find it much more satisfying that his is only getting worse. The devolution from high school jock to college drop-out is delightful.”
Garrick felt the corners of his mouth twitching upward. It didn’t matter whether Tyler was right, or even that his best friend always had a knack for cheering him up. Garrick was just picturing a thirty-year-old Cailean with a bulging gut watching high school football. There was a sick sense of vindication to be had there. Of course, that was assuming Cailean continued to stick to his stereotype and aged poorly.
Cailean had already gotten bored of messing with the kid, and he’d dropped the bag, letting its contents fall to the floor. He pushed past Garrick and Tyler, knocking his shoulder into Garrick’s and throwing him off balance. Tyler turned around and clenched his hands into fists. The transformation in his eyes was instantaneous. Nothing Cailean did could bother him unless it was done to his friend. Garrick held his arm out in front of Tyler. His friend had calmed him down earlier, and it was his turn to return the favor. Tyler was always talking Garrick down about stepping in for other people, but when it came to his friends, Tyler’s temper would overtake his logic. He wasn’t one tolerate his friends getting pushed around.
“Let’s just go, man,” Garrick said. Tyler nodded, lowering his hands and hitting his fists against his legs. Garrick could see the anger start to wash out of Tyler’s eyes. It wasn’t that he was so quick to get over it, it was just that he was good at staying optimistic.
“Yeah. Okay.”
Garrick and Tyler headed to the main gate of the school. They worked their way through a crowd of students who were anxious to get home until they finally found Tyler’s mother’s car. Since Tyler was old enough to drive, his mother had probably decided it was just easier to avoid driving during the day than deal with the traffic around school twice daily. Of course, giving him the car also inherently meant giving him permission to always give Garrick a ride home. Garrick opened the passenger door as Tyler clicked the unlock button on the key.
“That is quite feasibly your new record,” Tyler said as he opened his own door. It had become a challenge in Garrick’s mind to open the door as quickly as possible after hearing the locks disengage. He had never told Tyler about it, but it wasn’t a difficult game to notice.
“I don’t know,” Garrick said with a smile. “Last Tuesday was pretty fast.”
“We should start documenting your results. Bring the scientific method into this.”
“We’d be skipping the majority of the steps of the scientific method.”
“Garrick Elliott, more than occasionally, jokes are better if you don’t think about them.�
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“Maybe that’s why I don’t have a good sense of humor.”
“You are indeed a thinker,” Tyler said. Garrick laughed. As quickly as Cailean could ruin his mood, Tyler could repair it. Tyler turned on the car and began to drive home. It was a little red car, at least ten years old, and it wasn’t in the best condition. The door handles got stuck sometimes, and the buttons for the automatic windows had been jammed for months. Once, Tyler had been forced to ask another student for a jump before the car would start. But it was still a car, and – being in high school – being able to drive alone was cool enough for Garrick.
“Hey Tyler,” Garrick quietly spoke up, breaking the brief silence, as they headed back to Garrick’s house. Watching the trees go by, he could feel a somberness creep over him again. Something about forests always filled him with a strange sensation. A longing for something he couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the mystery, or the vast expanse of trees that made him feel small.
“Yeah?”
“Do you really think that’s true? That our lives are just going to get better?”
“Hey, I said yours. I never mentioned me.” Garrick sighed quietly, and he knew his disappointment was present on his face. He didn’t look at Tyler, not wanting his friend to see that he was annoyed. He was trying to be serious, and Tyler was joking around. He could clearly sense the change, though, because Tyler’s joking smile faded as he said, “Of course it will. High school is just a stepping stone. It’s just a trial you’re forced to endure that makes you appreciate the rest of life more.”
“I don’t mean high school, though.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s just… I feel like I’m missing something. Don’t you ever feel like you were meant for something more? Like... I don’t know, like there has to be something to life more than this. I feel like there’s something big, and it’s right here, within my reach, but I just can’t see what it is.”