by Al K. Line
But that wasn't why I resisted the urge to melt their arms off, it was Vicky screaming as she struggled. I turned to watch as I was carried like I was already in my coffin, only to to see Vicky grabbed. She did the best she could but didn't have a hope of getting away. Hell, one of the goon's legs weighted more than her.
The crowd jeered and shouted, calling for my blood. Before I had time to gather my thoughts properly, let alone think about how I could deal with this without ending up in small bits on the ground before Death scalding me and saying he knew he'd see me soon, I was at the door to the cage. A bare-chested monster of a man opened the cage door and sneered at me before my captors shoved me in. The door slammed closed.
I patted my hat just to make sure it was still there. That's one good thing about having a magic hat, it stays on your head.
I was alone in the cage, the stretched canvas mat soaked with blood. Shards of bone made the floor sparkle through the red, and ribbons of flesh hung off the bars. The stench of fear, adrenaline, and violence stung my nostrils as I tried to focus on the now and formulate a suitably wily plan. Plan, ha! It was obvious what was about to happen, and there was no way I'd be released when this was over.
Assuming, of course, I survived.
I stood alone, feeling small and weak under the harsh glare of the spotlight. The rest of the room was in darkness, but I could hear them, hear them all. They wanted my blood.
"Our special guest would ruin our sport. He has come here to disrupt our entertainment, our right to fight. We don't want that, do we?" asked the ringmaster, now outside the cage.
"No," came the chorus of the crowd.
"And what do we do with traitors? With the snitches?"
"Fight, fight, fight!" they chanted.
Oh boy.
There was a thumping sound on the mike, as if it was being passed, then a voice I knew all too well, yet had never wanted to hear again, spoke in a labored, wheezy falsetto.
"Hello, Arthur. I see you have found our little game. So nice of you to come join us."
"Fat Man, I didn't come for trouble. I came for a woman, Avisha."
"Never heard of her," he said, his voice sounding as bloated as his belly.
"She was taken, years ago. Merrick, remember him?"
"That fool who got himself killed? I hear his lackey is in control now."
"I want the girl. Is she here? You'd know if she was."
"Enough of this. You would betray us all, Arthur, ruin our games. Time to fight."
Desperate, I gave a final warning. "If you let me have her this can be over peacefully. Or if anyone knows, now is the time to say. You all know who I am," I didn't think they did, but it was best to big up yourself in such circumstance, "and know I can obliterate everyone here. Fat Man, I guess you heard what happened to The Accountant? You wanna be next?"
"Haha, a terrible mishap, but not here, not now, Arthur. Fight."
The discombobulated voice of the Fat Man reverberated around the room, sound sucked up by the press of bodies as they chanted, "Fight." Across the cage, a door opened and in stepped a naked man, his body like a human anatomy chart. He was raw muscle and power in that slender way many martial arts experts have. His head was shaved and his face was angry, his body a confusion of scar tissue and contorted limbs where bones had cracked too many times, warping his human appearance.
He stepped forward and the crowd erupted into shouts as the betting hurriedly took place. If I'd thought I could blast the roof and kill everyone in the room then I would have done so, but I didn't know where Vicky was. I knew I wasn't able to destroy the freaks while keeping her alive.
With a sigh, I rolled up my sleeves, got out my wand, kissed the tip for luck and got ready to fight for my life.
Breaking the Law
There was a Law, and if you broke it the powers that be would come down on you like a ton of bricks. Literally. No using magic in crowds. There was much debate over what constituted a crowd, the wording vague so the buggers could haul you in and do nasty things if they so wished, but I knew a roomful of shifters would be classified as such. I also knew these were all folks aware of magic, so the Law didn't apply.
Meaning, I wasted no time blasting the dude who would no doubt soon be trying to claw my face off.
As magic arced and crackled and my hopes of seeing George again rose, disappointment was right on its tail.
Even before the magic was halfway out of my wand the man had dropped down, morphed into what I believed to be a hyena, and had bounded away halfway around the cage. I whirled, moving just in time as the squashed snout of the short-furred creature snapped at my heels, trying to hobble me so it could tear out my insides at its leisure. Hyenas are some of the most dangerous animals because they're smart, and even lost to the animal the shifter had a wily intelligence behind the mean eyes.
Again the creature lunged, sharp teeth grazed my leg before it darted away and circled warily, never for a moment taking its eyes off me. I tried to center myself, calm my frayed nerves, but it's no easy thing when you have an animal intent on eating you while being watched by hundreds that want you dead. Plus, you know that even if you somehow win you'll probably get wiped out anyway.
Still, a guy had to try, so I forced down emotion and let the true wizard emerge. I felt the power of the universe thrum in my system, the vibration of all there ever was and all there ever will be flowing through me timelessly, as easy and natural as the ebb and flow of the oceans, the cold moon watching above.
Of course, the moon! This was why everyone was so manic and hyped. It wasn't just the extra entertainment they were getting, they were all being affected and as powerful as they could be. Great, just great.
The creature stalked on bent legs, belly almost touching the ground, its spine perfectly aligned with its low head, ready to rush forward and pounce. Just as it did so, I swept my arm out and across my body in one fast motion and compressed air fired at the hyena in a flat plane with enough force to crack its skull. Instead, it leapt aside and the air pressure slammed into the cage then swept across the front of the crowd, knocking them over. The calls for my blood intensified.
The edges of the attack caught the hyena on its hind leg and it spun before it fell and skidded on the slick floor. It turned and snapped; seemed all I'd done was anger it. Again, I shot out with power that would have broken bone, the force manipulated so it was concentrated at ground level. This time I was faster.
As the hyena skulked forward, snarling with lips peeled back, the floor rippled and the shockwave hit its back legs. I was anticipating a satisfying crack of bone but was sorely disappointed. The beast's legs were taken out from under it and it thudded to the ground, but the give of the floor must have absorbed more energy than I'd expected, or I was just weaker than I'd realized. As I readied for another more deadly strike my foe was already on its feet.
Now it was really pissed.
I backed up and found myself against the steel of the cage, the metal cold as I reached out my left hand for support. Damn but I felt drained, even the adrenaline not enough to keep me as hyped as I should have been. Fear was real, and I was too old and way too jaded to ever feel afraid any more, but being ripped apart by an African savanna predator can do that to even the toughest of wizards.
Summoning my will, hoping the spells I'd learned over the years were sufficient, I forced magic to do my bidding. Sigils on the wand sprang to life with a pale blue glow like a beautiful day just born. Cobalt electricity shot from the wand, supercharging the air and frying it, arcing up then down at the hyena, ready to rip into its skull and fry its synapses, split its bone and pop its eyeballs right out of its head.
As the magic surged, I felt a tug on my shoulder and the wand angled up slightly. Magic shot forth but so did the hyena, the wild power striking not its head but its tail which burst into flame for a moment then was gone, leaving nothing but a bad taste and a worse feeling in my mouth as the agile creature sailed toward my throat.
&nb
sp; I shook off the hand and ducked my head, struck with the wand and blindly hoped for the best. I felt it connect and kept on moving as my savage adversary careened into the bars then thwacked onto the canvas. Yes, Round One to Arthur.
Smiling, I turned, my joy turning to horror as the shifter came at me and thudded into my chest with all four feet.
I was down under the weight of the momentum and with a snarl the hyena lifted its head, bared its teeth, and snapped at my face.
Things Get Really Weird
"No!" The shout rang out above the din of the crowd and the roar of blood pounding in my ears, startling everyone, including me and the hyena. I took the opportunity to shuck off the beast and it rolled away to the cage's edge.
This was no ordinary cry of disapproval though, it sounded... it sounded like Vicky but something else. It sounded inhuman.
Someone screamed and my guts churned. Had they killed her? Done something terrible to shut her up? Another scream, an ungodly wail cut off midway, and then the place erupted with cries of abject terror. The spotlight searched the crowd and then someone must have had a brainwave and the main lights came on, revealing a sea of confused faces, many annoyed at the interruption to the fun and games.
A wave of bodies parted as a commotion escalated where I'd thought they were holding Vicky. As I squinted out and bodies moved, blood spurted, catching the light and arcing in a fountain of death. Men were backing away from her with hands up, several were down and very dead, and Vicky was Vicky no longer.
Her head was misshapen, lumps and bumps all over her pretty, petite face, jaw broad and forehead thick. Her arms were long and meaty, had split her sweater, and her hands were four times their usual size, covered in hair, with fingers extended and nails curled into sharp claws like scimitars.
She went wild. She hacked and clawed and kicked and bit at anyone in her path, and as she moved her body continued to change. The crowd parted and there was silence apart from Vicky growling and screaming as she kept on coming. Her sweater fell and her leggings likewise, her slender frame morphing before our eyes. Her ribcage expanded and her chest flattened and broadened, her pelvis shifted back and her legs buckled, the knees shunted. Splayed feet split her Nikes as toes fattened and claws replaced the red painted nails.
I glanced back up only to see the last vestiges of her face corrupted. Her always blunt nose spread and a snout stretched forward. Tiny ears elongated and hairs sprung from the tips. As she dropped to all fours her entire body sprouted short dark hairs that grew within seconds. All the while she never once slowed, never took her eyes off the hyena in the cage even as she snapped and swiped out at men and creatures alike as many shifters changed into animal form either affected by the extreme of violence or to protect themselves.
But none attacked, and for good reason. She was a mind-blowingly massive werewolf and could probably chew off a man's head with a lazy bite. The hyena backed away in the cage, sensing it was prey for this thing, this aberration that went beyond anything it had ever experienced.
My mind whirled, unable to makes sense of what I was seeing. Vicky? How could this be Vicky? Annoying, nagging, happy-go-lucky, always so damn perky mom who drove a Prius, how was this possible?
There was no time to think. The change was complete. The werewolf chewed up the distance and launched onto the platform that held the cage. Vicky snarled and tore at the bars, casting a quick yellow-orange eye on me before focusing on the hyena. I saw the fear behind those eyes, the lack of understanding of what was happening, but I saw something else too. Purpose, true intent. It would not divert from its path. Vicky had changed somehow because my life was at risk, because of where we were and I guess because of the moon. This creature would do anything to save me, her friend.
The hyena whimpered and the she-wolf circled around to the cage door. She grabbed it in thick paws, yanked once, and flung it into the crowd like it was made of paper. Up on hind legs, she stalked in then dropped to all fours, glanced at me again, snarled at the hyena, and launched.
It was over in a heartbeat. The smaller, dog-like creature didn't stand a chance against something like this, nobody did. Vicky pinned the whining shifter to the mat and without pause tore at its throat, ripped out a mouthful, and spat it aside. The lump of meat thwacked against the bars and hung there, a bloodied prize for the victor.
Nobody moved, nobody made a sound, certainly not me. The creature turned and stood in the middle of the arena. She sniffed the air, ears twitching, eyes seeing more than I could ever know. She raised her head and howled. Howled for her pain, her sorrow, and her confusion.
The crowd returned the call for they knew what she was, that she was a thing apart. That she was inside, aware and conscious of the change and the animal she had become. That she was both human and animal, woman and wolf, and something unique even amongst their own kind.
They howled and they grunted and they barked and they whined and they all acknowledged her as their better. Even though they could have taken her by force they had no such desire for she was different, she was special. Vicky was the leader of the pack even amongst such monsters.
Murmurs rose as Vicky remained motionless, her chest heaving, her snout bloodied, her saliva dripping and her head turning to survey the crowd of men and creatures subdued by her strangeness, her strength, her might.
Me, I was scared shitless.
New Friends
A gun fired and pandemonium ensued. Chunks of masonry fell and dust drifted down so I could only assume it had been directed upward. The factory erupted with noise and shouts as the spell of Vicky's actions was broken. Men and women ran in all directions, animals panicked and trampled human and creature alike and cool air swept through the place giving me goosebumps even though I was still sweltering.
Everyone ran for the exit, moving fast as more shots were fired from unseen vantage points. Me, I was stuck in a cage with a killing machine, but at least we were friends, so I hoped.
"My, this is a surprise, Vicky," I ventured tentatively, standing and keeping as far away as I could without it looking like I was ready to run away along with everyone else, which I was very tempted to do.
All I got was a low, suspicious growl in reply.
I was suddenly aware of how alone I was, not that the crowd were on my side or anything. But now they'd made a hasty retreat I felt all kinds of vulnerable in a way that was a truly unique experience, and trust me, I'd been in some sticky situations.
My head snapped to the side at the sound of clapping. Vicky padded over and looked in the same direction. Hell, she was so big. She came up to my chest and if she was on her hind legs she'd easily be eight or nine feet tall. Her next to me was one of the oddest, most exhilarating, freakiest moments of my life. I could smell animal musk, the bloodlust, the excitement, but also the nervousness and the utter confusion. Worryingly, I sensed the unwillingness to even think about changing back, to becoming human again.
The beast knew there was more to come, and it was ready.
A wall of armed men, dressed from smart to proper meathead with vest and tattoos, moved forward. The Fat Man was between them, waddling like a bloody beach ball, folds of skin swaying around his jowls, his body encased in an enormous suit hiding flesh that flowed with a tide of fat, folds and folds of the stuff.
"You been working out? You have, haven't you?" I shouted.
"Still as amusing as ever," said the Fat Man as he wiped his oily brow with a silk handkerchief then dropped it before trampling it under a mighty foot.
Vicky growled and moved in front of me.
"If it moves I'll kill it," he warned. The men shifted, refocusing their weapons. Vicky's hackles rose.
"I don't think she likes you."
"Who is she?" he demanded.
"My friend." I tried to get up to speed but it was all so quick, so utterly unexpected and strange that I still had a lot of catching up to do.
Then, like a fork of lightning, everything clicked into place. After al
l, how many bloody werewolves were there in the country? Actually, I had no idea, but it couldn't have been many, and not from the same city unless... Unless they were related.
Vicky was Avisha, Vicky was Ivan's long lost sister. Vicky was a werewolf. Vicky was gonna get told off if we managed to get out of this alive.
"She'll make a great fighter," the Fat Man commented with admiration as he stopped at the base of the low platform.
"Don't think so, dude. Look, let's call it a night, it's late and we all need our rest. I won't tell if you don't."
"No. She stays, she's mine. You can be on your way."
"I'm not going anywhere without her."
"Oh, haha, I didn't mean you could leave. I meant you can be on your way to hell." The Fat Man turned to the goon beside him and snarled, "Shoot him. Nobody touch the wolf."
I winced as someone pulled a trigger. Vicky howled her objection.
A weak but suitable shield sprang up just in time as I'd kept it ready and waiting. As the bullet made contact then dropped like it had hit a wall, I ran for the exit, beaten by Vicky who was off the platform and circling around the back before I had chance to worry about being shot again.
I ducked as more shots were fired, tearing through the mat. Several bullets hit my hat, the wards as strong as if it were made of Kevlar. Crazy pings and whizzes went off as the onslaught ricocheted off the cage and I scrambled around following Vicky. As I chased after her I smiled—the Fat Man had made a fatal mistake not ordering them to shoot Vicky.
She was already back around, taking them from the side in a frenzy of fur and claws, her body mingled with theirs. It was impossible to distinguish one from the other and they had no chance of getting off a shot at her.
Bodies were flung away like unwanted rags and the animal grew increasingly deranged, snapping and swiping and ripping and howling. Two goons and the Fat Man were all that remained now. Vicky bit down hard on the face of one and his scream was cut off as she yanked away most of his flesh. He dropped.