by Stead, Nick
I roared like the monster I was. The wolf had killed one of my best friends, and though I refused to accept it was part of me, I shared the blame for Fiona’s death. I wanted to see it die, and in my head I hunted it, wanting to confront and kill it, and then I would be human again, and at least no one else would get hurt.
It evaded me for a while and I sat there by my fallen friend, raging and cursing. If anyone had seen me, they would probably have thought me insane, and maybe I was. But few ever came that way and there were none to witness my madness.
I pursued the wolf to the darkest depths of my mind and there I confronted it, oblivious to the world around now.
Before I could attack, the wolf turned, calm and unafraid. It snarled, and then did something that took me completely by surprise. It spoke in English!
“You wish to kill me and yet I have committed no crimes. I am no more deserving of death than any other wolf, yet you would save their lives and you wish to take mine. What gives you the right?”
“You killed my friend,” I roared at it. How dare it reason with me? In my anger I was the monster and it was almost human, but no, that wasn’t right!
“I killed to eat like any other wolf. Besides, you share the blame and we both know it. We are one and the same. I am part of you.”
“No! You’re not me. I’m human!” I screamed. “I would never have done that to her!”
“But you did,” it said, with such calm that I hated it even more. “You are no more human than I am wolf. The sooner you accept that, the easier life will be.”
“Life? You call this life?” My voice turned bitter. “And even if you are part of me, it doesn’t matter. You made me become a killer. You caused me to lose my soul!”
“Every wolf must kill to eat, like any other predator. I did no more than hunt and feed as nature intended. Besides, there are too many humans on the Earth. You should be thanking me for working to restore the balance. Call it pest control, if you will. As for your soul, can you be so sure you ever had one? Do you share humanity’s misguided belief that you alone have a soul, where the rest of the animal kingdom does not? Even though we are all made of the same flesh and blood, and even share a high percentage of DNA? What makes you so special? What makes you believe that you are the greater species and that the rest of us are below you, to do with as you please? You abuse us. You capture us and slaughter us for ‘fun’ and deny us of our rights. What gives you the right? What makes you so different?”
“You cannot speak or think,” I snarled. “Besides, you could have eaten animals.”
“I am speaking now, am I not? And what of my mind? You think there are only instincts there but we are bound together and you can see into it. What are these that run through it, if not thoughts?”
“You’re different. You’re a monster. You just told me we share the same blood, that you’re partly human as I’m partly wolf. If it weren’t for that you would be the same as other wolves and instincts would be all you had.”
“And how can you be so sure? During my awakening I remember hearing your thoughts, even if they meant little at first, but you were surprised, I think, at how intelligent I was. Back then I was wolf and wolf only, or as near a wolf as I could ever be. But you are right: I am different in that I hunger for human flesh, unlike true wolves. It is part of the curse. I could not feed on animals alone; the curse would not let me. We are both alone in this world. You will never be truly human and I can never be truly wolf. You think you are the only one to have suffered but you are wrong. I suffer too, and maybe death is our only comfort, but we can only die together – we both know that. Even if you defeated me now I would be called back every full moon, or if I defeated you no doubt the vampires would call you back. Let us avoid a pointless fight for it will resolve nothing.”
I remained silent, but my rage was even greater than before.
“You would still condemn me to death despite the fact I am a part of you.” The wolf sighed.
“Yeah, if I could!” I roared and charged, pouncing on it and trying to wrestle it to the ground. It fought back, despite its words. And as we each fought for dominance, it was possible my body shifted between forms when one of us gained control for a short time. Though whether or not it actually did I can’t say, for I lost all awareness of reality, including my own body and anything physical which happened to it. I could have been shot by a Slayer and I wouldn’t have felt the pain.
I don’t know how long the fight lasted. The wolf and I were evenly matched and in the end we lay exhausted on the landscapes of my imagination, panting and bloody.
Then before I could do anything more, the wolf retaliated in a way far worse than anything I could do to it. It thrust its memories upon me and I was suddenly seeing the world through its eyes and hearing its thoughts, and reliving all the events since it was first awoken when I became a werewolf.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Horrors Relived
The earliest memory, of first feeling that unnatural hunger. I was ravenous. The first sight, that of the moon, my only master, and first sounds; I bunched my powerful muscles and leapt out the open window, just managing to catch a back leg on the sill and knock several ornaments off. And more importantly to me, my first scents… An irritable growl escaped my jaws when I realised there was nothing of interest. Save for a few nearby rats, there were only the old trails of humans walking the streets in the daylight hours and fumes from their great, roaring machines, all long gone by now.
The search for a victim, and finding the prey. Excitement flooded me at the sound of footsteps. Her scent carried on the breeze, making my mouth water in anticipation of the rich taste of blood and flesh.
I felt all of the wolf’s emotions; the thrill of the chase, the pleasure brought by the sweet smell of her fear and the sound of her hammering heart. And the hunger, always the hunger.
The memory changed and I saw how the Slayers had surrounded me, and how Lady Sarah had come to my rescue. The wolf respected her. This memory was brief and less detailed, and lost in the horror of the others.
It faded and a new memory began, much like the first. But there was something new this time, and I felt the wolf’s mind, not just following instinct as in the first memory, but thinking like a human, calculating, looking for a way out of the room.
Rearing up onto my hind legs, I rested my front paws on the windowsill and studied the transparent barrier standing between myself and freedom, trying to find why there was no opening this time where there had been previously. I was about to give up when I noticed a handle which had been twisted upwards before.
Nudging it with my snout, I pushed against the glass and almost howled with joy when it swung outward. The hunt was on.
It had worked out for itself how to open my window! Fear gripped me. Fear at the wolf’s intelligence.
The memory moved on and I was soon hunting once more and tasting the flesh of a sheep.
But even though reason said the sheep should have filled my stomach, I still craved human flesh. That was when the scent of a lone male reached me, young and healthy, and full of tasty promise.
In the memory he just suddenly appeared, and then he was on the ground, his head in my jaws and the rest of him pinned beneath me. His screams were cut short with a single bite, the skull shattering in an explosion of gore.
There were more memories like that, memories of blood and death and hunger, but it also showed me the times in between the full moon, when it lurked just on the edge of my consciousness, waiting for its chance to break free. It had been quietly observing the human world it had found itself in and listening to my thoughts, probing my mind, and learning from it. I saw how it had learnt to understand our language, even if it couldn’t physically speak when fully transformed. It had learnt many things, and it was all the more deadly for it.
And then… Another memory came, the final one in the wolf’s onslaught, much more powerful than the others, overpowering in fact, so that I didn’t know whether
I was human or wolf, and it became the present, more so than the others had, and I became the wolf. If I had thought the others seemed real I was wrong – they were like dreams compared to this, or like watching events through the wolf’s eyes, but this was like living it.
Desperation forced me towards the centre of the town again, the only place where humans never failed to be, only to find them all hidden away in the buildings blaring out that unnatural noise they called music. There were none I could take without being seen, not even any homeless people. I knew if I waited long enough the drunks would come staggering out, and then they would be mine for the taking. But the hunger wouldn’t wait.
I was resigned to scavenging from more bins, when I heard human voices. And they were heading towards me! I thanked fate for the meal being brought my way and slunk into an alley, preparing for an ambush.
Greed could get me killed, but it wouldn’t do to leave witnesses for the Slayers to question. I only really needed to take one to make the hunger bearable, but how to do it without being seen by the others?
Hearing those thoughts angered me after all the deaths I’d just witnessed. All those extra victims it had taken when it only really needed one to keep it going till sunrise, and it claimed it was innocent! But the anger was brief, the memory forging on. Soon I was feasting on one of the girls in the group, too intent on my meal to pay any attention to another girl coming my way.
Only once I’d had my fill of the organs did I rise from the hollowed torso to attack another part of the corpse. And it was then the new girl’s scent danced through the bloody veil clouding my senses, and in that instant we saw each other.
The quickest to react, I snarled instinctively, ears flattened against my skull and teeth bared, hackles raising. I must have been an impressive sight, a demon in the darkness, all the larger for the shadows I hid in. She did what any sane person would have done, turning and running for safety as fast as her legs would carry her.
My eyes locked on to her retreating back, the bloodlust roaring for another kill and my predator’s instincts urging me to hunt down the running prey. There was no fighting those instincts. I gave chase.
I forced the human out towards the countryside and pursued her into the fields, caught up in the thrill of the hunt once more. Finally I began to close in for the kill.
Her leg was a tempting lump of meat, pumping the ground just inches from my drool flecked jaws. I could hear the blood pulsing through it, calling me to set it free. Surging forward, I obeyed.
She crashed to the ground as my fangs sank into her calf, paws sliding through the dirt, momentum carrying me forward. But I released her almost instantly. This time I wanted to play.
I skidded to a stop and waited for her to rise, but all she managed was a pitiful attempt at a crawl as the tears streamed down her face. Frustrated, I darted forward and grabbed hold of the leg again, rearing up onto my hind legs and tossing my head back. Her body was thrown up with me and for a brief moment she was flailing in the air, screaming with the sheer terror of finding herself completely and utterly at the mercy of forces beyond her control. Then gravity took hold and we were falling back down, and with a powerful jerk of my head I slammed her into the hard, cold soil.
Bruised and winded, she cried even harder and begged for someone to save her. But she did try to rise this time, limping on her good leg. My teeth had ripped right through the other one, down to the bone, shredding skin and mangling flesh. It probably wouldn’t have taken her weight if it hadn’t been for the fear and adrenaline overriding the pain. But that could only get her so far.
I trailed behind, wanting to play chase a while longer. Then the injured leg collapsed from under her and she was lying in the dirt once more. The game was over. I knew then she wouldn’t be rising again.
She tried kicking out with her good leg as I padded towards her, sniffing at the injury I’d inflicted. The attack was slow and weak and I dodged with ease. My nose moved up to her stomach, the lure of all those rich, juicy organs drawing me to her abdomen like a magnet.
I took a bite of the flesh just above her waist, not bothering to kill her first. There would be no last burst of strength allowing her to fight back, no miraculous escape. She’d die soon enough.
Gunshots sounded from somewhere within the town. My head shot up, ears cocked and nose to the wind. The Slayers? They were too far off to be aiming for me but then another weapon fired, much nearer than the first, and I wasn’t taking any chances. I abandoned the meal and ran for the cover of the woodland.
And so I came to be in a small, shallow stream, allowing the icy water, numbing, yet refreshing, to wash over my paws and rinse away the blood. The liquid’s surface looked so clear and pure as I lowered my snout to lap at it, but not for long.
A dark red streak slithered from my jaws and twisted in the current. I raised my head and began to lick the blood from my matted fur, something about that night making me feel the need to cleanse myself of the last remnants of the lives I had taken, as if it were impure, staining my soul. But these were human thoughts. The human was beginning to affect me, and I didn’t like it.
I stared down at my reflection in the water, confused and uncertain. What was I? Not human. Not wolf. A monster? That was what humans believed. But did monsters have a conscience?
There was no denying I was a killer, yet I only killed for survival – one of nature’s oldest laws, to which all living creatures are bound, predator and prey. But what sort of a predator feels… What? Remorse? No, it wasn’t remorse. The human may have felt remorse when it killed the rabbit, but not I. What then? I didn’t understand this. But there was something different after this kill, and if these feelings grew they would get in the way. What kind of a predator feels for its prey? Whatever I was, be it monster or some poor confused creature that was never meant to be, I was flawed and it made me weak. These were the human’s problems affecting me, and it had to learn to accept its fate. Our survival depended upon it.
Reality crashed back into place. But the memories seemed to have burned into my mind and I lay shaking on the ground beside the corpse that had, just hours ago, been Fiona; innocent, young and full of life. She’d been so excited about her dance tournament, and with a guilty pang I thought about how I’d stolen the opportunity from her. She might have won a trophy or a medal and it would have made her so happy, and her family so proud, and I had taken it all away in just hours.
I could forgive her for leaving me, Lizzy and Becci the night I’d been bitten. She’d just been frightened after all. Despite that particular incident, I knew she’d cared about me, and this was how I’d repaid her. She would never have the chance to compete in her tournament, or to wear her beautiful prom dress she’d already picked out as she made her entrance on the arm of her boyfriend, the guy she believed was the one. There’d been so much ahead of her to look forward to, and now she would never enjoy any of it.
The images circled my mind like birds of prey, and one would suddenly swoop down, making me relive that particular horror again. Open or closed, all my eyes could see were the victims I’d slaughtered.
How long I lay there I can’t say. It seemed like the torment would never end, but then something brought me fully back into the present and I found the strength to stand. My gaze wandered over anything but Fiona. I couldn’t bear to look at her with her staring, empty eyes and those terrible wounds, gaping and repulsive.
“Forgive me,” I croaked as I turned away, blinking back tears.
I started walking, my guilt growing with every step. Should I be leaving her there? Her family would soon know she was missing and I could only imagine their anguish at not knowing what had become of her. It could take days for anyone to find her out in the fields. It’s not like it was a hotspot for walkers, and the police would not conduct a full sweep of the area until they had checked all her usual haunts and spoken with her family and any friends she was likely to have stayed with. But if I was discovered with the body the police woul
d want to question me, and I couldn’t face that. Plus the Slayers might put two and two together, for surely they would recognise a werewolf’s victim. But would that be such a bad thing? If the Slayers found me they’d end it, and countless lives would be saved. Oh God, would I take at least three victims every month for all eternity? Death seemed my only option, but not at the hands of the Slayers, I decided. I didn’t like the idea of meeting my end at their hands.
I stumbled back into town in a state of shock. My feet were automatically set on the path home, but as I passed through the centre I heard someone calling my name. Pausing, I turned to find it was Lizzy.
“So what’s wrong?” She walked over and sat on one of the benches, motioning for me to do the same. That was the last thing I wanted, but she was giving me little choice in the matter so I sat. If I’d just walked off she’d only have followed me.
“Nothing,” I said, trying to hide the flutter of panic. It was clear she’d already had her suspicions after the uncharacteristic bouts of aggression she’d witnessed, but did she actually know something? I hoped not. She couldn’t find out my dark secret. She just couldn’t. I could barely look at her as it was.
“Nick, you’ve been my best friend for the last four years. I know something’s not right. So what’s wrong? You know you can tell me. I’m here for you anytime, whatever it is.”
“Are you? Would you be here for me if you knew the truth? I don’t think you would. I don’t think anyone would.”
“Of course I am. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”
I smiled sadly at that. The wolf only saw the darker, brutal nature of mankind, but here Lizzy was, proving there was more to them than that. I wanted to believe she would find it in her heart to forgive me for what I had done to our friend, maybe even pity me and try to help me find a way to control the curse. Maybe we could look for a cure. But I knew that could never happen. Even if I could tell her, she would no doubt be horrified. She’d run away and never once look back, and who could blame her?