Winter's Wolf (The Cursed Book 1)

by Lou Grimes

  The whispers picked up to a talking volume. The wind whistled. The picture on the wall began to move. The boy was first, and from the uncanny likeness between herself and him he could only be her father, Declan. He was moving, to get some good pictures beside his father. His father was playfully bumping him with his elbow, teasing him.

  Talking turned into raised voices. Wind began to beat the outside structure of the house louder. Snow flurries went into the house, wildly.

  The wind was roaring. The voices were shouting, screaming, and crying. Louvette turned to the source, but the house was empty save for a few dust bunnies. There was nothing around. No people. She attempted to shout and no voice came out.

  All of a sudden, the house went silent. It was a complete absence of sound. A morgue was louder than that house. The wind had stopped. The snow made no sound as it floated back to the floor of the house. She looked back to the picture and her father was gone.

  Louvette watched her grandfather wilt. His hair greyed and grew unruly. His clothes became tattered rags. The years were draining him until he was barely standing. His thick build had diminished to that of a frail old man. Louvette wondered how his legs could support him. Wilder looked like he had survived the holocaust, but just barely. His time was coming to an end.

  ***

  Louvette pulled the covers from her head and cold air surrounded her. The thick wool blankets kept the chill off her body at night, but couldn’t save her exposed head. She had left the window open out of habit. A habit that was a normal notion in Texas, but a terrible one in Montana. The clanging downstairs was what truly forced her to get out of bed, frowning.

  As she went down the stairs, she noticed the walls, full of pictures just yesterday, were now bare.

  Her mom must have heard her coming down the stairs. “There’s still tons of food in the fridge. None of it is expired since Wilder only passed a few weeks ago. How do biscuits, gravy, and sausage sound?” she said in good spirits. Louvette smiled, remembering that when her mom had time to cook, it was a meal fit for kings. In this case, it was fit for queens.

  “Delightful,” Louvette said. She almost jumped down the last few remaining steps. She hurried over to take up her role as sous chef. Louvette couldn’t really cook to save her life. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t help mixing or cleaning as they cooked so there would be less dirtiness at the end of it all.

  Louvette savored the buttery goodness that was Sarah Lynskey’s homemade biscuits. They were so flakey, she thought, closing her eyes out of enjoyment as she leisurely consumed each delectable bite. Sarah had created gravy from the leftover sausage grease. The meal itself had a slightly spicy flavor thanks to the spicy sausage from the fridge. A little while later after breakfast was finished and they were cleaning up the mess, her mom looked over at her.

  “I got ahold of Whitefish Academy. It’s a private school. Mr. Hollows must have called them earlier and explained the situation. I only had to tell them your name. I didn’t even have to convince them. They said you start tomorrow,” her mother said.

  “Do I have to start so soon?” she asked as anxiety overtook her. Her mother’s eyes narrowed at Louvette’s tone. Louvette didn’t want this fairy tale to end because she couldn’t control her temper and make nice. She didn’t wish to have to move again. A knowing look came into her mother’s eyes that quickly turned to pleading.

  “Please make this work. We are out of options. At the rate you’re going, you won’t stay anywhere long enough to graduate,” she implored bluntly. Her mom’s sad eyes begged Louvette to behave so they wouldn’t have to jump ship again.

  Louvette opened her mouth to retort sarcastically back, but her mother held up her hands as show of peace.

  “We are going to go shopping because I can’t send you to school in shorts in forty degree weather,” her mother said as a way to extend an olive branch. The change of the current conversation snapped Louvette’s mouth shut, and Louvette decided she would play nice and make the best of this.

  “Deal,” she said. The thought of some retail therapy soothed her disquieted soul. The idea of being cold every day while she was at school didn’t appeal to her either. Her wardrobe could use the update. She hardly had any article of clothing that didn’t possess a hole or two. Some clothes she’d gotten at thrift stores had been too cute to pass up, even if they had holes.

  The two of them got dressed in the warmest clothes they had to go shopping. Louvette had a ripped pair of skinny jeans on and an old pair of Converse shoes. She had a thin pullover jacket and a t-shirt. She shivered as the air blasted her as if punishing for her lack of winter apparel.

  Sarah chose a more comfortable approach. She had on mom jeans that lacked holes in them as well as a loose hoodie. Her hair was thrown in a messy bun, not caring who she saw. Her makeup wasn’t done. The car ride to town seemed short as they imagined the deals they would find.

  Their travels had done on number on both of them, but they were still ready to check Whitefish out. They parked on Whitefish’s main street to hit all the boutiques, thrift stores, and local specialty businesses that lined the road. The wind blew sharply as they exited the car. The temperature was rising, and shopping became even more enjoyable because they weren’t freezing anymore. The morning was shifting to mid-day.

  The mountains that they had just traveled down from could clearly been seen over the top of the town. Louvette knew that there had to be a post card somewhere of this beautiful landscape. The mountains were lightly snowcapped, and trees were everywhere. Low clouds adorned the mountain tops like little incomplete halos. The evergreens in town were scattered about.

  Tourists crossed the street at various intersections to see everything they could in their sliver of time here. Louvette couldn’t blame them. Whitefish had an unruly beauty. One small enclave of humanity that Mother Nature surrounded on all sides. Cars were parked along the road.

  It was hard for Louvette to believe that it hadn’t existed that long as far as towns go. The Great Northern Railway was the cause for its creation. Louvette had researched all about the town on her drive up. She needed to know what to expect. However, the real Whitefish was much better than any picture on the internet.

  It was vastly different from all the places in the southern part of the United States that she had visited. Her mother liked to stick to the southern states because she was a sun junkie. In Montana, the weather rarely reached over 85 degrees. For about seven months a year, the temperature was always below 60 degrees. Whitefish got their fair share of rain and snow as well. Louvette couldn’t wait to see this place in the winter. She’d never been in an area that got this much snow. She hadn’t had any real white Christmases.

  Various aromas that originated from the restaurants floated through the streets. The smell of smoke was one smell easily deciphered. Someone had either a fire going, grill cooking, or was smoking some food. The sound of people conversing, laughing, and shouting could be heard. Local dogs barked in the background.

  Louvette and her mother walked down the street, pausing at various shops that caught their attention. The chocolate company was their first stop. The deep rich perfume of artisan chocolate and desserts drove them to it. They loaded up on savory sweets and continued to achieve what they had come here for.

  ***

  After walking around for a while, they found the holy grail. It was a thrift store that gave back to the community. After they went in, they discovered many of the clothes were brand name and excellent quality. They weren’t packed with holes, stains, broken zipper, or missing buttons. They started picking out some pieces they liked immediately. Louvette favored the sweater tunic in the window, but it was too dressy for school. She didn’t see herself going on a date or going out anytime soon, so she opted for more sensible pieces. The prices were more than affordable so her pile steadily grew. Her mother’s stack was similar.

  Her history of dating was barely a history at all. After a few dates, she’d often have to
leave so Louvette had decided not to talk to guys until she made it six months at a school. A lofty goal that she had never met yet.

  “That looks absolutely horrible,” she cried out at the sight of a coat her mom wished her to try on that she’d snagged off the $2 rack. It was a warm red bubble coat whose bubbles were too fluffy for her taste. It screamed humiliation at school.

  “I like it. It looks cute,” her mother defended. Her mother’s face gave away the insult that she suffered from Louvette’s comment.

  “You would. Oh! How about this one?” she asked. Louvette grabbed a black wool coat that went mid-thigh that was tied to highlight her slim waist. Louvette didn’t need the word cute to describe her. Her mother thought she looked cute in the red coat because she viewed her daughter like she was still in kindergarten. That red fluff jacket would look adorable on a five-year-old stumbling outside on the playground, but not on Louvette.

  “It makes you look too grown up. Get that one if it is what you want,” her mother said sadly, realizing she’d lost the battle. She knew her daughter well enough to recognize that Louvette never would have tried on the bubble coat if it wasn’t for her mom.

  “I have more than enough for now. I’m ready whenever you are.” Louvette indicated her mountain of winter clothes. For a second, she wondered how she was going to have room for all of this. Then, she remembered the walk-in closet that was in her new room. The walk-in closet could have been referred to as an extra room to potentially hide bodies in, to be honest. Louvette truly believed it was the same size as their last apartment without all the walls. It was still depressingly empty since she only had a few pieces hanging up at the moment.

  The cashier was a sweet old lady wearing exceedingly thick glasses. She had a short mop of gray curls. Her eyes were shining as they neared the counter. She had on a white t-shirt that had a green tree emblem on it and jeans that had colorful patches on them.

  “How are you two today?” she asked politely, pushing her glasses up her nose. Not only were her frames chunky, but her lenses were broad as well.

  “We’re great, how about you?” Sarah responded, laying down her discounted snags for the day. The hangers clanked onto the counter.

  “Are you two just visiting?” the woman asked.

  “No, we are moving in. Her grandfather left us a house here.” Her mother’s small talk humored the sweet woman.

  “Oh, what was his name? I know everyone around here. My family has lived here for generations,” the cashier said.

  “Wilder Blackwood,” Sarah responded respectfully, though her reluctance was evident. Her smile transformed to more of bared teeth as she said the last name.

  “I went to school with him. He was a few grades older than me, but every girl in school had a crush on him, including me.” She beamed as she recalled. Sarah tightly smiled at Louvette, giving her subtle cues to leave. Louvette chose to ignore them because of her fascination with the current topic.

  “You said he left you the house. I’m sorry for your loss. The truth is everyone expected him to lose his mind when his wife died. That son of his was the only reason he kept going. Then, the son, Declan, went missing or ran off, too. Wilder was bound to pass soon after that,” she consoled.

  Louvette looked off, upset. If her father had been there, her grandfather would have never been killed. He would be growing old in his house still today. Louvette probably would have never met him even if he hadn’t died. The sweet old lady realized she’d hurt Louvette’s feelings.

  “I’m sorry, honey. You look so much like your grandfather. I should have realized,” she apologized. She truly sounded sorry to Louvette.

  “No problem. You have a wonderful day,” they said. Their arms were full of several bags of clothing after they left. They had spent less than a hundred of dollars on over twenty articles of clothing for each of them. Louvette walked out as the proud owner of several complete outfits, a couple coats, appropriate winter shoes, and some thermal running clothes. Her mother had gotten several pairs of pants, long sleeved shirts, sensible jackets, and some warm lounging clothes.

  They paused on the sidewalk just past the thrift store. Louvette sat down on a nearby bench to rest her feet for a second. Her mother slid into the spot next to her. The bags rubbed together, creating an annoying crushing sound.

  “Are you okay?” her mother asked, laying a hand on her shoulder. Her mother was attempting to comfort her. Her mom didn’t how to handle the situation. Louvette could tell her mother was expecting the conversation, but was unsure of how well it was going to go.

  Louvette didn’t even have any idea on how to go about it. Her mouth opened several times in an effort to speak words that she needed too, but couldn’t. If her mother wasn’t right there, she would have smacked herself in the head to get the right words.

  “Yeah, I am. It just sucks that I never got even meet him,” Louvette revealed. She tried not to make it seem like she was blaming her mother, but Sarah drew back and took a sharp breath. She took it the wrong way as usual.

  “So that’s how you feel?” her mother said miserably. The pain and outrage was evident.

  “Don’t ask questions that you don’t want the answer to,” Louvette snapped, losing her patience. Her face twisted cruelly.

  “One day, you’ll realize why I did the things I did and understand that I did them with the best intentions,” Sarah said.

  Louvette immediately felt horrible. She didn’t regret telling the truth. No, it needed to be out there. She did regret the method of how she presented it to her poor mother. Louvette didn’t even want to look at her. She didn’t need to see her expression because Louvette had caused it so many times that it was burned into her brain. Her wrinkled lines were more pronounced when she was upset. Her mother’s eyes would glisten, unable to stop her tears. Her lip would be tilted down. Her jaw clenched. Her nose would flare a couple times before unleashing the waterworks.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I was never in your shoes,” Louvette apologized at her explosion of unnecessary feelings. She closed her eyes, feeling the birth of a stress headache.

  Louvette expected her mother to lose it.

  “It’s okay. I knew that one day I’d face the consequences of you hating me for walking away, and I’ve made my peace with that fact,” her mother said to her. The two peered around at their surroundings. While they were fighting, they had been in their own personal bubble. No one had witnessed the familial dispute. Louvette knew her mother was relieved.

  “You’re my mother. I could never hate you. I just don’t understand. Why won’t you help me understand?” Louvette asked.

  “I’m not ready to talk about it,” Sarah said.

  “At this rate, I’ll be thirty before you are ready to talk about it. I’m done shopping for the day though,” Louvette responded, hoping her mother was done after their grueling eight-hour day of shopping. Louvette had a bad taste in her mouth from the store keeper’s assumptions on the death of her grandfather and her missing father.

  They dropped off their many multitudes of bags in the car. The relief of sliding off those shoulder biting bags was instant. Louvette rubbed the place where the bag seemed like it was cutting into her shoulder.

  “Let’s try that food we smelled after we parked. Does that sound good?” her mom asked.

  “Great idea!” she squealed as they began to follow the smell. They walked down the street about half a mile. The aroma of garlic and meat became more intense as they got closer to their destination.

  They decided to try Wrap & Roll Cafe when they passed a loaded menu and the smell of the food cooking was too tempting to pass up. The setup was a food truck in a cleared parking lot. There were fold out tables and chairs everywhere. They were packed and only had a few available tables. Louvette quickly snagged them seats while her mom ran off to order, knowing full well what might tempt Louvette’s appetite. Anything in the form of a taco would do the trick.

  Her small table
wiggled a little as she leaned on it, peering around. She took her arm back and the table righted itself. Louvette sighed and grabbed some sugar packets off the table from the condiments holder. She shoved them under the offending table leg. This time she set her arms on the table and was relieved when the table didn’t wobble. She needed that balance.

  Louvette took in the surrounding population. The makeshift patio was loud. Several conversations were going on at once. Someone was laughing in the background. There were some families, shoppers, and some high school guys. She paused on the kids for too long, apparently, because one of the boys zeroed in on her, locking eyes.

  He was so hot it was ridiculous. The only high school guys that looked like this were the ones cast in movies and TV series, who later you found out were actually more like twenty-eight years old. He had a bad boy vibe going that Louvette liked. His eyes were beautifully blue, and he had brown curly hair. The kid had perfect cheek bones and a nose that revealed that he was inclined to get into a fight or two. He was the kind of guy the Louvette would have crushed on but would have never spoken to in a million years.

  Something about his eyes changed. For a moment, his eyes dilated to an unnatural size. The color transformed to an insane shade of gold. The feeling of being prey took over her for one terrifying minute. But, something crept forward from the dark recesses of her mind. Whatever the darkness was, it was ugly, and it didn’t like to be challenged.

  He went from handsome to terrifying in the small span of a few heart beats. Her dream guy was gone. A monster was in his place.

  Her stomach dropped. She couldn’t break free, locked in place. Everything faded out, even other kids next to the guy she was in a death stare with. Her breathing ceased to exist.