The Last Wolf Fae

by T M Caruana

  What is Ur type? A

  He looked at the time as her response was delayed. Had it been fifteen minutes. Wasn’t she going to answer? Perhaps she genuinely wasn’t interested. Eventually the phone pinged and he realised that he was more eager to read the message than we would care to admit.

  Not my employer.

  I don’t mix business with pleasure. T

  Now Alfred really regretted having offered her a place in the competition. He would suggest they could date after the competition, although Alfred knew there wouldn’t be an ‘after’. She would definitely become a complication to his two million pounds if he fell for her. He couldn’t let that happen. He needed to end this conversation before it was too late.

  What a shame. I‘m really good

  at both, simultaneously ;)

  After having pressed send, Alfred shook his head at the message and sighed. He hadn’t ended it, and it had only made him seem sleazy. He wasn’t sure how she would react to the enticing touch with the added wink. He prayed she would answer him. Anything – just give him a hint of how she took it. He was relieved when he finally heard the next ping.

  Yes, a shame.

  I could have taught you a thing or 2.

  Good. He was glad she had taken it playfully. However, the dominance in her text made his blood rush to his cock. He couldn’t help himself for playing along.

  About making T?

  This time the answer came almost immediately, indicating her defence, not wanting to appear crude. Yet, it could still be interpreted with a double meaning, considering she signed her messages with only an initial T.

  So many aspects to a perfect T.

  Yes, a perfect T, he mused and thought of her. She was perfect. He wanted to see where she was going with the conversation and replied with a short answer.

  I never knew.

  Maybe she would offer her assistance if he played the underdog. She seemed to feel a duty to help him. Perhaps she would knock on his door at any minute with her skimpy outfit and show him how to make a satisfied T, right now. His trousers started to feel tight over his crotch. He had to open the button and pull down the zipper to make more room. He re-arranged his big pride just before the next message came through.

  A shame U won’t find out.

  Good Night Mr Employer.

  Oh no, that was a bit of an anti-climax. She had cut his dreams short and his frustrations were still pounding in his pants.

  Sleep tight Miss T Teacher.

  His last words were hopeful. Perhaps not tonight, however perhaps another night she could teach him how to conquer T in the most pleasurable way.

  14

  NAGU NAGAR

  The 1stof July had arrived before Alfred had had the chance to choose his third victim. He wandered down the street after having parked his car near the supermarket where the competition would be held and noticed a dark skinned man looking rather lost with a map in his hand. It looked as if no one would miss him if he were to disappear. He looked homeless and scruffy with tatty clothes and greasy skin that smelt of human. He was a large man who, with some food, would become a person no one would want to mess with.

  <><><>

  Nagu had arrived on the immigrant boat from Nigeria a few months back, but was still sleeping in a cardboard box over the warm vent on the fifth street back from the sea. Since arriving he had had to beg for money. Sometimes he tried to sing, but he wasn’t very good at it. He believed most of the money came from people who just wanted to shut him up. When he hadn’t got enough money for bread and water, he’d searched through the bins at night. All he owned came from what people had thrown in the bins. Having said that, it wasn’t that bad. It was amazing the amount of items that looked brand new that were thrown away. In the alley where he lived he had a clothes rack on wheels full of clothes that, in his eyes, made do. He had an old-fashioned type alarm clock, a tatty yet intact wallet and a functioning radio where he had to tune the channels by turning a nob.

  Occasionally, he had found a few hours’ work by the docks, unloading and cleaning fish. It had almost been not worth it as he had had then to pay for a shower in the bathhouse afterwards. The owner of the fishing boat was also a nasty piece of work who Nagu didn’t dare to look in the eye. He walked around the workers like a Lord, watching over his slaves and bashed them with a long wooden stick across their legs and arms if the work was going too slowly. Nagu still had the bruises for weeks after. But such was this new world he had arrived in.

  People weren’t kind and society wasn’t as helpful as he had been promised by those who he would now describe as slave traders. He had promised to send funds back to his family as soon as he had settled down in this new world, but yet he hadn’t been able to save up for one single transfer. He had wanted to be able to send the eldest of his three sons to school in the village where he was from. Now he would settle if he knew his family was safe and healthy when they didn’t have him to protect and provide for them. All he could think about all day and every day was how he could get back to them. If his family wasn’t already dead they would be weak from his mistake.

  From one of the workmen by the dock, Nagu had heard about a gangster who needed people to do his dirty work. It was said that his jobs paid well if you came out with your life intact. At first Nagu hadn’t given the offer a second thought, but after six months the worry for his family had started to grow, and now he admitted it might be his only option. He had tried everything else and this really was his last resort. His source had told him that the gangster, Benito, hung out in a dingy strip club in one of the more seedy parts of London. He had given him a map and circled the area.

  Having walked about aimlessly for two nights through the dark alleyways of London’s nightlife, trying to find Benito, Nagu had been stolen from, and beaten up, more than once. His large build and his clueless look apparently made him an interesting target.

  On the third day, he set out earlier as he could feel that he was getting closer. But when it was nearing ten am he considered taking a break. The only money he had was from begging before going to sleep last night. It could get him a cup of coffee and a bread roll if he was lucky.

  He opened up his map to try and locate a busy street nearby where he could find a bakery when suddenly a man approached him.

  <><><>

  “Where are you going sir?” Alfred asked, but received a blank expression.

  The man blurted out something in a language that Alfred didn’t understand. He sounded frightened as he flinched away from Alfred. He had a scar over his right eyebrow and his skin was discoloured on his arms, suggesting bruising. As Alfred tried to speak with him again he moved even further away, holding his hands in front of his face as if to protect himself. Alfred held up both his hands and talked slowly. As he grasped that the man probably didn’t understood a word of what he was saying, Alfred carefully waved with his hand for the big man to come with him. He made several gestures towards his mouth, showing the man that he was going to give him food and that seemed to make him follow.

  As they walked towards the supermarket, Alfred sized him up and assessed if he would be a good fit.

  “You will do,” he affirmed.

  15

  GAME ON

  As expected when the sum of five hundred thousand pounds was at stake, all the twelve contestants were on time. They lined up outside the supermarket as Alfred, Anne, Sir John and Liz thanked them for coming, reiterated the rules and egged them on to become excited about their challenge; Sir John and Anne talked about sharing and kindness. They wanted the contestants to survive in order to prove that the Green Skyway project never needed to be initiated. Alfred and Liz preached about what was at stake and that it was a competition after all. They wanted the competitors to kill and thereby show that the world wasn’t under control after all. They wanted this to prove that the government had a responsibility to act.

  Alfred equally had the responsibility to protect his endangered red wolf pack from ext
inction. Dacry had since long studied the Blue Wolfprint Treaty, trying to find a loophole in any clause that allowed him to kill off the remainder of them. Dacry had his eyes on the alpha throne and didn’t want to share the title, Alfred refused to join him by surrendering his own alpha title. He doubted Dacry had the red wolf breed’s best interests at heart and wouldn’t ensure they didn’t die out. Equally, Paw would never surrender his status to align himself to Alfred. Alfred would fight him for it if it came to that. Frankly he had wondered when Dacry would ignore the treaty and simply start a war anyway, considering that the red wolf pack was vastly outnumbered. This was why Alfred had to ensure he had powerful friends, a strong reputation and the assertiveness of a leader. All leaders needed to act, even if the outcome wasn’t popular. Sometimes leaders had to take hard decisions, and this was one of them that he made for the benefit of the pack. Tasha was just one of the sacrifices he had to make for the greater good of his cubs. With determination he focused back on Liz, who was about to start.

  “To make sure everyone is here, please shout ‘yes’ after your name has been called. I start with the girls’ teams,” Liz explained, as she held a firm grip around her pink Swarovski pen; ready to tick off the attendants.

  Liz’s Team

  Alexandre

  Simon

  Jennifer

  Anne’s Team

  Jolie

  Joanne

  Tony

  Sir John’s Team

  Connor

  Wallace

  Sarah

  Alfred’s Team

  Jaden

  Tasha

  Everyone, either shouted with a self-confident attitude, or waved their hand shyly, in acknowledgement. Liz had to stop after having read only two of Alfred’s candidate’s names.

  “You have one name missing Alfred?”

  “Yes, it’s John over there,” he confirmed and pointed at Nagu as he didn’t know his name.

  Liz made another tick on her list as Alfred sarcastically thought; John, yeah, more like John Doe, in his head.

  “Where are the camera-crew and the media?” Sarah asked sceptically, as she viewed the industrial surroundings in the middle of nowhere.

  “We want the contestants’ identities to be kept a secret until they are revealed on TV. The cameras are inside and installed in random places. When you decide to withdraw from the competition and you come out, that’s when the fans and the reporters will greet you,” Alfred lied convincingly.

  Sir John went to open a large metal door at the loading bay and the competitors could see into the fully stocked supermarket. They all looked curious and greedy. Alfred smiled contentedly until he received a wink from Tasha. That’s when his heart sunk. She had done her make-up perfectly and she was wearing a beautiful red top with black jeans that really suited her natural colours. A part of him felt he didn’t want to let her go. Alfred took up his smartphone.

  “Everyone pose for a photo before we start the competition,” he called.

  The group squeezed closely together and smiled.

  “Alright,” Sir John said to hurry everyone along and not draw any attention to the group.

  Everyone listened. Sir John filled his lungs.

  “Ready…get set… go!”

  The twelve candidates stampeded through the metal door before it shut with a hard slam and was then locked thoroughly.

  The four contented gamblers headed up the west wing fire escape and into a control room from where they had set up the monitors from all the hidden cameras. From this room they were able to watch every angle of the game, every minute.

  16

  SPLASH OUT

  As the others ran in, I stopped to appreciate the size of the supermarket and felt overwhelmed. This would be my home for the coming weeks and the twelve individuals would be my family…or enemies, depending on how you saw it. I saw their excited faces as they all plundered the shelves. I had memorised everyone’ names as they had been called out by Liz.

  The one called Jaden, had quickly ripped a trolley out of its parking place and run down to the snack aisle. He held out his arm and pushed the bags of crisps, making them fall down and fill the trolley. He picked up a tube of Pringles and opened it there and then to taste. I went over to him and saw him make funny faces as he tried out the different flavour.

  “Not too bad. Here, taste this one,” he said excitedly, and stretched out the tube to Connor who was also standing next to us.

  “Dope man,” he thanked Jaden, and grabbed a few.

  “What about you Tasha?” he asked, and held it out to me.

  I didn’t really feel like I had settled in yet, so shook my head.

  Those aren’t good for my figure.

  I watched Jaden stuff his face.

  Jesus, he popped those like there was no tomorrow.

  “Do you know what would go really well with these?” he stated and looked around.

  “What?”

  “Beer.”

  Jaden was quickly off, leaving Connor and I with a man who was approaching us slowly, holding a few packets of different stuffed donuts.

  “Hi, I’m Wallace,” he introduced himself and wiped his sugary hand on his trousers before extending it.

  “I’m Tasha,” I said shyly and accepted the handshake.

  “I’m Connor,” the redhead answered, as he had been next.

  “So, what do you do?” Wallace asked us in general.

  “I have not really found my calling yet. I sometimes volunteer at the soup-kitchen,” Connor murmured, looking disinterested, which I could understand as his was probably itching to get his hands on some consumables.

  “That’s nice,” Wallace only commented.

  “I’m a zookeeper at the London Zoo. I seem to have a calling for animal work, making them behave well,” I answered casually. “And you?”

  “I was a professional football player once, but I damaged my back and now I only coach the young ones.”

  “Cool,” Conner commented.

  “The young ones are more grateful than the fans. I’ll tell you that.”

  “Sure,” Connor groaned. He sighed in acknowledgement and glanced anxiously around him, appearing to have already started to feel claustrophobic.

  Seeing the daunting look on Connor’s face it was hard not to immediately think ‘one down ten to go’.

  “You’re not having anything?” he asked me to break the silence.

  “I was too nervous for breakfast so could really do with an early lunch, perhaps some meat,” I said and frowned at the unhealthy snacks in this aisle.

  “Perfect. Let’s head to the butcher’s. It was a while since I had a fillet steak. Let’s take the route past the frozen chips as well.”

  “And red wine sauce,” I said and smiled.

  “You are my type of girl,” Wallace said and held up for a high five.

  As we arrived at the butcher’s we didn’t have to look for utensils, as there was already a man working at full speed, cooking something that smelt divine.

  “Beef or-a fish?” the man queried with a strong Italian accent.

  Connor and Wallace looked at each other and quietly held up the items they had collected. I was holding two bottles of red wine.

  Anything! I just want to open this wine.

  “Yes-a,” the Italian said and pointed at the fillet steak. “No-a,” he said as he pointed at the frozen chips. “Dannazione, a chef will-a not allow processed potatoes.”

  Wallace noticed the chef’s hat with the embroidered name ‘Alexandre’.

  “Really, you brought your hat?”

  “This hat is-a my pride, along with-a this star,” he exclaimed, and pointed at what looked like a patchwork he had sewn on himself in the last five minutes.

  “Alright then,” Wallace said condescendingly and handed over the steak to Alexandre, without further comment, probably not wanting to ‘bite the hand that was going to feed him’.

  At the sound of stiletto heels we all looke
d up and saw a stunning, tall Asian-looking girl with long black hair, approaching slowly with a slight stutter in her walk; each step seeming to distress her. She was carrying a load of chocolates in her folded up red top. It was full to the extent that the bars were tipping out through the sides.

  “Hey guys. I’m Jennie,” she cheerfully bellowed and made an attempt to hold the chocolates up whilst waving with the other hand in a sort of diva-like way.

  “Hi Jennie,” Wallace greeted. “Do you need some lunch before all of that?”

  “This is my lunch. I’m having strawberries with ice-cream and chocolate sauce for dessert.”

  “You will get a tummy ache.”

  “Not to worry. In aisle two there is plenty of medicine to cure it,” she stated playfully, and carefully sat herself down, crossing her legs and tipping all the sweets between her legs onto the floor.

  She leaned her back against the boxes of long life bread and started devouring her booty, as if she had never had chocolates before. Inspecting her figure, I thought this was probably true.