by Brent Miller
“That wasn’t me. I haven’t killed anyone.” He was only able to process a few pieces of information, and it felt like the man was more important to respond to at the moment. Given his limited capacity for thought and responses, he decided against humoring her supervillain monologue. Anyway, in his possibly delusional mind, he actually believed there was a way to get through to them – and his only idea was appealing to his own innocence.
For a brief second, Garrick questioned himself. He wondered why he was so convinced that he didn’t hurt anyone when this whole crusade had been because of a fear that he had. Did his dream really change his mind so much? Or was the wolf – which was just under the surface – trying to use its control to speak to him. It wanted to clear its name in the last few seconds of its life.
“Not yet,” the man conceded, “but you will.” Garrick looked around the room, but he couldn’t make out more than a few dim shadows in the moonlight. The wound in his side wasn’t pouring blood anymore, but it still hurt. It wasn’t likely it would close before he changed, and he wasn’t sure what that meant for himself. Maybe the reason they were so confident was because he was already dead.
“So you’re going to kill me?” Garrick whimpered, failing his attempt to sound defiant.
“No,” Samantha said. A spark of hope flashed through Garrick’s mind, only to be crushed when she added, “I like you, Garrick. I am going to cure you. To set you free.”
The words themselves weren’t sinister, but they were accompanied by an almost unrecognizable tone. Normally, she put on a good show, but here, he could sense a brokenness as she spoke. She actually believed what she was saying, but any semblance of sanity had vanished.
“That’s what you tell yourself? Does it help you sleep?” Garrick scoffed. He may have done horrible things, but at least he took responsibility for them. Still, he couldn’t judge Samantha – she thought she was helping. The poor girl was just deranged.
“Then why wait? I’ll be able to kill you both in seconds,” Garrick snarled. He could feel the beast pushing forward, even more now that he was in danger. Somehow, it granted him the power to be defiant that he’d lacked before.
However, he also knew that he was bluffing. He knew he had to wait at least a few minutes before the wound from the silver would wear off, and he’d be able to change. If he stopped fighting against it before that, it would just be an attack while changing, to which Aldric had always told him he was vulnerable. These two knew their stuff, it seemed, but he could only hope they would fall for his ruse.
“Good point,” Samantha said. Garrick heard a gun cock. He tried to move, but agony tethered him to the ground. She aimed the gun at his head.
“How could you do this to me?” he asked, resorting to the last tactic he could think of. He hoped to appeal to some humanity, or at least buy enough time for a miracle. Aside from that, though, there was a deep desire to understand. Garrick just wanted to know why any of this had happened. He had never felt so betrayed. He tried to believe that she wasn’t hunting him the entire time, but that wasn’t something he could convince himself of. “I–”
“You what, Garrick? You loved me? I doubt it. I’m pretty sure your chances of love left with Hayden. With me, you just fell for an act.”
She’d seemed so nice. He didn’t believe it was all a lie. Maybe she had been brainwashed to hate werewolves, but she wasn’t actually the manipulative killer she seemed to be. She had to have cared for him at least a little bit – he could hear it in her voice, so he tried to use that opening.
“I could have loved you,” he lied. Listening carefully, he thought he could hear footsteps up above. Whoever was coming couldn’t possibly make his situation worse – so he had to try to just buy himself a few more seconds. “Werewolves choose who we love, and I was just scared to choose you so soon. But that was wrong.”
“What?” she smirked, apparently amused that he’d even tried.
The man laughed. “You couldn’t even fool someone untrained, kid.”
“Yeah,” she added, hardening her face again as she cocked the gun.
Her focus was drawn to the creaking near the stairs. Garrick wanted to take the opportunity to attack, but he couldn’t move.
The door, locked from the inside, shook vigorously. For a split second, the shaking stopped – then the door caved in violently, splinters of wood scattering across the floor. Chase sprinted down the stairs and jumped from halfway up the staircase, landing directly in front of Samantha’s uncle. He lifted the man and threw him against the wall. Samantha quickly turned and shot, in his direction, but Chase was faster. He dove to the ground and grabbed the knife Garrick had thrown, rolling away. Blinded in the darkness, Samantha shot where Chase had stood, not realizing he’d moved. The light from upstairs started to filter in, but it wasn’t enough.
Chase stabbed the knife into Samantha’s rib. She cried out, dropping the gun and falling to her knees. Her uncle quickly got up and rushed to her side. Taking advantage of his concern, Chase kicked his knee and shoved him to the ground. Chase reached a hand out to Garrick, pulling him up. Garrick put his arm around Chase for support, and the two of them staggered to the steps.
They ascended the stairs as quickly as they could, but it took too long in Garrick’s condition. When they reached the top, Samantha’s uncle – the hunter – was directly behind them. Without turning around, Garrick heard the creak of the steps only a few below him. Garrick fell forward, grabbing the handle as he stumbled through and slammed the door shut as he dropped to the ground. The door barely stayed closed as it hung on one hinge. The other two, along with pieces of wood from around the lock, had fallen down the stairs. Garrick reached up, searching for the lock on the low chance it would work. The hunter slammed into the door, but Garrick held the knob as he turned it.
Garrick moved out of the way as Chase pushed over a beam to block the door. “Okay,” Garrick tried to catch his breath, resting on the ground. Chase, standing next to him, lifted him up, forcing him to continue walking as the hunter pushed against the door, pointlessly spinning the knob.
“We aren’t safe yet,” Chase cautioned, urging Garrick to keep walking.
“They’re locked in,” Garrick argued.
“Garrick,” Chase retorted, barely a whisper. “When I kicked it in, I pretty much destroyed that door. It won’t be long before he realized he can pull instead of push.”
“Oh.” Garrick tried to pick up the pace, but his legs collapsed under him. He lurched toward the ground, but managed to catch himself on the wall near the front door. Garrick leaned against the wall, holding his stomach with as much force as he could muster, begging the blood from the reopened wound to stay in his body. He could all but hear the beast inside of him begging to be set free, begging to save his life from this threat. He had pulled the blade out of his body fast enough to limit the effect of the silver, but he was starting to regret it. He knew that the beast could force itself out at any moment in time. Did it know it would put him in danger? Or maybe it knew he was wrong, and it wouldn’t, since the wound was inflicted early enough.
Chase fell to his knees and slammed a fist to the ground. He looked down at the floor as he clenched his jaw.
“What are you doing here?” Garrick asked, angry at Chase for putting himself in danger. Of course, that anger was overshadowed by how thankful he was that his friend just saved his life.
“I told you I’d be here for you,” Chase said. The hunter pulled the door open, and Garrick listened as he cursed the two of them for their back-up plan. He was even more thankful for Chase in that moment, because he never would have thought of it. With the blood pouring from his side, he could barely think straight, and he’d actually believed he’d locked the door.
“We have to go.”
“We’ll never make it to the others in time.”
“Then we’ll go deeper into the woods this way. We just have to go.”
Garrick could hear the hunter ramming against the
beam with all his might. The faintest scraping of wood against the floor told him it wouldn’t be long before the hunters were out of their cage.
Chase looked up, his green eyes shining with a light that seemed to come from inside him. He nodded as he tried to stand up. Garrick could feel the wound in his side closing again, and the realization that Chase’s life depended on him gave him stronger conviction. Garrick wasn’t going to let Chase suffer for a decision he’d made himself. Or for the people that he’d chosen to trust. Chase was there, willing to fight for Garrick. And Garrick was going to help him get out of it. His friend had saved him from the hunters, but he wasn’t going to get far without transforming, and Garrick had become much better at that. It was his turn to return the favor.
Garrick pushed himself away from the wall, standing on his own. His weak legs wobbled beneath him barely able to push him forward. He pulled Chase up using all the strength he could muster. The exertion opened the wound in his stomach once again, and fresh blood poured to the ground. Chase could barely stand as he fought through the pain of his own transformation, and Garrick saw blood on his friend’s shirt. The bullet must have made contact, and Chase had just kept going because he had to. He and Chase supported each other as they walked to the front door. They made it outside, but before he closed the door, Garrick saw the support beam finally slide far enough for a person to squeeze through. He shut the front door again, but realized that he couldn’t lock the door from the front. Garrick let go of Chase, advising him to continue walking. He stood between Chase and the door as he backed away, trying to get farther from the hunter who was after them.
One too many steps backward and Garrick dropped down the stairs, landing hard on his back. It knocked the breath straight out of his lungs, leaving him light-headed, as he was already gasping for air from the transformation. He saw the doorknob turn, and quickly returned to his senses, and to his flight. Chase was stumbling down the staircase as the door opened, and the hunter shoved him down.
Garrick forced himself up, and he tackled the hunter to the ground. He felt his wound beginning to close again, and his strength started to return. He punched the hunter once drawing blood from his mouth. He punched him again, three more times, unsure of what his plan was exactly, but he was using his strength to his advantage. Skill won over strength, though, as the hunter bucked him forward, then rolled over, pinning Garrick to the ground. He slashed Garrick’s shoulder with a silver blade, but it wasn’t deep. It was more of a distraction, which worked because he backed away. The hunter drew a crossbow and aimed at Garrick’s head. This time, he wasted no time – firing the arrow. Garrick felt the world move in slow motion. Lying on the ground, he watched the arrow move toward him. A figure fell in front of him first, though, as Chase dove toward Garrick.
The arrow went straight through his heart – something that he should have been able to heal from. He’d always heard that werewolves were most vulnerable when transforming, and he’d been concerned about it, but he didn’t know what that meant exactly. Seeing the arrow hit Chase, though, in his half-transformed state, it was clear.
“No! Chase!” Garrick screamed. He could practically feel the wolf’s howls as well. He stopped fighting it. The anger of what had happened to his friend fueled his transformation further. The wolf was begging to come out. Fully aware that he didn’t have the strength anymore, he finally stopped fighting it.
Garrick watched as claws erupted from his fingernails. He growled at the hunter, who had already reloaded his crossbow and was aiming at Garrick. Another arrow shot by, but Garrick rolled out of the way. He bared his teeth, laughing as if it were a game. He could feel his grip on his own mind fading, but it wasn’t as terrifying as usual. Another arrow was on a path for Garrick’s face, and it would have killed him if Garrick’s newly formed tail hadn’t swatted it out of the way. Garrick ran toward the hunter, who gave up on the bow and drew a gun.
Garrick sidestepped and was behind the hunter before the gun was even level. He kicked the man, bring him to his knees. Garrick grabbed him to pull him back up, slamming his back against a tree. He caught the hunter’s wrist and pulled it back, driving it with as much force as he could into the tree. Multiple bones in the man’s hand shattered and the gun dropped to the ground. Apparently accustomed to the pain, the man reacted quickly, pulling his blade and slashing toward Garrick.
Garrick jumped back, narrowly avoiding contact with the blade. He seized the opportunity of the man being stunned to step forward and slash his throat. He didn’t leave the man in pieces, but he definitely left the corpse as an unquestionable animal attack.
Attempting to deprive himself of any time to process, Garrick turned toward Chase. He could think about what he’d done when they were safe. For now, he had to get himself and his friend somewhere far away from the hunters.
Garrick ran back to Chase and dropped to his knees. He held Chase, in his arms as blood continued to pour from his chest. Garrick pressed his hands against the wound in an attempt to cease blood flow. Trying to divide his attention equally, Garrick focused on helping his friend while attempting to reign the beast back in. It was harder than ever before, because he’d already started his transformation, but he could not allow himself to give up on Chase. His vision was getting blurry; his eyes obviously in the process of changing to those which didn’t truly belong to him.
“I’m so sorry,” Garrick cried, tears streaming down his face. All he wanted to do was find a way to help Chase, even if that meant taking his friend’s place, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He didn’t notice the beast pressing against him quite as much. He looked at his claws only to see that they weren’t claws. They were nails.
“Don’t be, Garrick. I don’t regret anything. You’re my best friend, and you were worth saving. I would do it again.”
“We can save you,” Garrick implored. “You’re going to be okay.” He knew it was futile. Since Chase was hit during the transformation, it was only a matter of time before he bled out. At least, that was what Aldric had always told them. Looking down at the light fading from Chase’s eyes, Garrick knew deep down that it was the truth. He just held his dying friend in his arms and lied, hoping to give him some peace.
“No, I’m not,” Chase admitted with a sad smile. He paused, as if searching for the words, and added, “Garrick, there’s something I want you to do for me.”
“Of course, anything.”
“Kill me.”
“What? No!”
“Please, Garrick. We both know the only real cure for this curse. It’s the only one that makes sense. You have to kill the one who scratched you. For all we know, that could be me. Make my life mean something, please.”
“No. I’d rather live every day as a monster than one day having paid that price to be human.”
“Then do it for me, Garrick. Who knows how long I’ll lie here in pain, waiting to die. Help me.”
“Chase… I can’t. I… I can save you. Come on, we’ll take you to a hospital. They’ll stitch you up – help the healing process.”
“And what, Garrick? I wolf out there and kill them all? Assuming that even works. If not, then you kill them.”
Garrick knew he was right. He knew there was nothing at all that could be done. He took a deep breath, trying to steady the heaving of his chest, and moved his hand toward Chase’s neck. He watched as claws once again came from his nails.
“Thank you,” Chase said. There were tears in both of their eyes. Garrick wanted to believe it was merciful, but he couldn’t help but feel that he was justifying murder. Still, he could see the pain in his friend’s eyes, and there was only one way to allow him any type of rest. Solemnly, Garrick drew his nails across his friend’s throat, granting his request in one swift motion. Chase breathed one last breath, almost resembling a sigh of relief, as he closed his eyes for the last time.
He held Chase’s body in his arms as he silently cried for a few seconds. Then he let go and pushed himself back agains
t a tree. He drew his legs up and rested his elbows on them. He placed his head in his hands, the claws running through his hair, not taking a moment to think about the blood which still soaked his hands. His canines grew, and his ears changed shape, but he stayed still for as long as the shape of his body would allow it.
After ten minutes had passed, he was on all fours. Garrick was locked somewhere in the deep recesses of his own mind with no control over his own body. The wolf walked toward Chase, who still lie half-transformed on the ground. It nuzzled against him, as if trying to restore life to his still body. Its attempts proving futile, it turned and headed off in the other direction. As it glanced back once more before departing, a tear fell to the dirt beside its paw.
Garrick walked into town, sniffing out his pack and trying to find exactly where Hayden was. The buildings came into view, lights from the houses and businesses twinkling in the moonlight. The streetlights continued to change color, even with no cars on the streets.
He saw a girl, probably no older than ten, who just happened to be in her front yard. She was probably just an innocent child, playing with chalk on the sidewalk before she had to go inside for bed. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Garrick couldn’t do a thing to save her life.
When she saw him, she screamed at the top of her lungs and turned to run inside. He jumped, blocking her path to the door. Garrick snarled at the child, ready to pounce, even though every human piece of him screamed not to. The wolf, the animal, was threatened by the presence of a human, and it needed to defend itself.
A blast from behind him. He didn’t know what it was; he couldn’t process the explosion of sound. The animal mind in control of him just rendered a terrifying noise, and he turned around. This was the girl’s alpha. It must have been. He was much larger than she, and he had made bursts of light and sound erupt from his hands.