A Werewolf's Saga Books 1, 2, & 3 (A Werewolf's Saga Boxed Sets)

by Michael Lampman

  “Hey buddy? Got a minute?” a young sounding man asked, coming from behind him.

  He looked down and turned, and saw a young man step out from the shadows. He watched him walk towards him, cautiously. He looked dirty, wearing badly unwashed clothes. He could feel the man’s heart racing hard behind his ribs. It sounded almost like it was a sledgehammer pounding out a knot in a tree. It thudded. It pounded, and it made him sound afraid. He was afraid of him.

  Behind him, a new smell came; coming towards him, and this one seemed like the first one but was missing the stench of cologne. It smelled nervousness too. It smelled like nothing but trouble. He could smell the sweat of a body’s odor. He could smell the stench of alcohol all around him. He couldn’t believe how strong all of those smells came, but he started recognizing all of them. He started to get used to them. It still made him feel somewhat shocked, but even knowing that, he turned to the smell.

  “Hey fella, got a dollar?” The second man came behind him, and walked towards him with a nervous stride.

  Jimmy watched him come towards him. The alley wasn’t casting much light, with the buildings all around them, but even like that, he could still see the halos around both of them. They both shined yellow. They both looked pale. They both looked scared. Their hearts raced harder. “You don’t want to mess with me.” He turned back to the first man, and with the dim light overhead, it made him look so young. His face looked so smooth, but he couldn’t smell anything like shaving cream on him. His eyes looked hazed over. His body odor smelled strong. He could almost smell the sweetness on the kid’s breath. He could smell the hint of alcohol on him as well. It seemed hard to smell, but it was still there. More importantly, he could smell his fear. He could tell that they both feared him. They didn’t know how right they were to fear who he was—what he was.

  The man behind him laughed, so he turned to him again. He looked older; he could hear his heart skip several times under his slow breathing chest, and it made him have to take a deep breath. The man smelled almost like decay. He smelled overly dank. The halo around him looked far paler than the other one, and that made him think that he had to be sick with something. His halo even looks sick. He’s dying. He could have sworn by it. It looked so clear.

  “Give me your wallet then.” The older man pulled out something from his right coat pocket, and it glinted some with the little light around it.

  Jimmy could tell easily that it had to be a knife. Seeing it, he laughed hard with an almost belly full of air, as the sound echoed around the narrowness around all of them.

  His laugh made both men stop.

  He could smell their fear grow stronger. He could hear their hearts almost explode with it. They didn’t expect him to do it. He nodded, taking it all in. “You two are something else, aren‘t you.” He looked up to the sky but could see nothing but darkness, and seeing that, he looked back down to the older of the two of them. “You have no idea of who you’re fucking with.” He nodded. He could see that the older one was going to be the problem. He could feel it. He would fight him. Feeling that, he would have to take him out first. It felt like his instinct, and that instinct glared out strongly through his soul.

  “No fucking around, just give us your fucking wallet.” The older man took one-step forward, but stopped there. His eyes grew wide, and his body raked with one sudden shiver as the knife came up.

  The knife was now only a foot or so away from where Jimmy stood. He could smell something like pepperoni on the blade. A hint of an apple was there too. “I don’t have a wallet.” He turned back to the younger kid and then back again to his older friend. “I have no money either.” He shrugged his shoulders, raised his arms out to his sides, and flung them down again with a slap. These guys aren’t going to give up. He could feel it. They intended to fight. He could feel that it was now only a matter of time.

  The kid behind him sighed. “Let’s just get the hell out of here,” he almost whispered.

  His heart beat so fast that Jimmy could almost put it to the words of a song. He obviously didn’t want to do what they were doing. He could tell that much about him. His fear almost seemed overpowering his body. He could also tell that he was about to lose his control. “Listen to your friend.” He turned back to the one holding the knife. If I have to fight them, he’s going to be the one. He readied himself and took a deep breath.

  “The money!” The older, ill one used the knife to exaggerate the point that he tried to make. It wiggled some in the air. It now came to only a good foot from Jimmy’s breaths.

  Whatever he was going to do, he had to do it now. He didn’t think; he just reacted.

  He grabbed the man’s hand so fast that the knife went down without any effort, and that made the man scream just as fast. He grabbed his hand like a vise, and twisted it up.

  The sounds of his hand’s bones cracked and echoed all around the buildings, sounding like someone just swung a bat and struck a Homerun.

  The screaming continued as he reached around the man’s throat with his left hand and spun him around until he now stood directly behind him. He still held him within his grip. The guy didn’t have the chance to do anything but scream again.

  With him secure in front of him, Jimmy blinked. “I told you. I have no wallet. I have no money.” He squeezed his throat expecting to feel the eyes at the back of his mind to come up again. He expected the wolf to come out. In fact, he now waited for it. It had to come. He felt angry. He felt nervous. All of the telltale signs seemed to be there, so he took a deep breath, but nothing came out. The eyes stayed where they were. He was still in complete control, and he felt shocked by all of it.

  The younger kid watched everything happen within a second of a breath, and couldn’t believe how fast it did. He couldn’t believe how fast the man overcame his friend. Watching it all, he lost his mind just as fast as the fear gripped him completely and suddenly, he couldn’t resist the need to answer that fear.

  He turned fast and took off running. He wanted nothing of the fight. He wanted nothing of the trouble that would follow it. He didn’t even turn around to look back. He couldn’t do it even if he wanted to.

  Jimmy watched the kid leave, and could feel the man before him now gasp for air. For the briefest of moments, he felt like ending his life. All he had to do was squeeze a little harder, and he would kill him quickly. It turned into a powerful feeling. For a brief moment, he felt like he needed to do it. He almost expected it. He wanted to do it, but he couldn’t. His anger subsided and his mind cleared with it, and he took a deep and exaggerated breath. When he calmed, he released his grip.

  The man fell to the pavement at his feet.

  A loud and a rather painful sounding thud followed it. The effect caused all of the air in his lungs to leave him just as fast. He now not only gasped for air, but he was also almost suffocating from it. He rushed his good left hand to his throat as if to help himself force the air back into his lungs. It must have worked. His windpipe did open and the air shot through him fast. With that done, he brought his other hand up to his face and looked at what was left of it with a set of shaky eyes.

  It looked shattered. He could barely move it. He could barely flex it. It looked clawed and almost completely deformed. Several fingers pointed in different directions. The thumb looked rather sharply twisted towards his wrist. Overall, it looked beyond horrifying. Numbness quickly replaced the pain, as he stared at it oddly. At least that was all that he felt from it, so he took an everlasting breath.

  Jimmy looked down at the top of his head. I don’t need him. He won’t come out. Seeing the sick man’s black and greasy hair, it suddenly dawned on him that he did everything without the wolf. Hell, the wolf didn’t even attempt to come out. What it all meant, he didn’t know. The fact that it didn’t come out made him relax even more. It seems that the wolf didn’t have to come out but at the full moon. It didn’t have to come out when he felt scared. It didn’t have to come out when he had to fight. It meant that he
was in control for the rest of the month. That mattered, and it mattered a lot. He took another deep breath and took everything in, and then turned and nodded.

  He left the man sitting on his knees. He left the alleyway quickly with a bounce in his step. He felt satisfied. He felt secure. He came back to the bright lights of the street and headed west. He had to find the woman. He had to get back to the pack. He had nothing else on his mind as he ran. He felt free. He liked the feeling. Nothing else, it seemed, mattered at all.

  7

  Back in the alleyway, Al couldn’t believe what just happened. It all happened so fast that everything seemed hard to take in at once. The young man disarmed him almost like a pro. He obviously knew how to defend himself. How could he have been so reckless to attack someone like that? He should have known better. He should have seen the signs. Everything seemed to be there. He looked firmly built. He seemed in much better shape than he did himself, and knowing that, he should have let him go. He shouldn’t have even tried to mug him. He made a mistake that nearly cost him his life.

  Watching the man leave him, and head out to the street, he looked back at his shattered right hand. The numbness flared, but he didn’t care. How was he going to survive with only one hand was the only thing on his mind? How was he going to make a living like that? He now felt more than just scared, he felt almost terrified, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

  With the air refilling his tired lungs, he stood slowly back up to his feet. Under him, his legs shook some. They felt wobbly. They felt even more tired than the rest of him did. When he felt sure that he was stable, he took one soft step forward. His knees almost gave out, but didn’t. That seemed like a good thing. It told him that he would be able to move on. He would be able to get back to the bridge that he called home.

  He took another step and listened as his footstep echoed softly around him. A second footstep, just after his, told him that he wasn’t alone in the alley. Hearing that, he turned around and looked back to the street to the direction of the sound.

  For a brief instance, he thought that it was the kid coming back again. If it was, he was going to go ballistic on him for doing what he did. Why did he run? Why did he leave him? Why didn’t he even try to help him? He wanted to pay him back for that. After that moment passed, he realized quickly that the footstep came from behind him, not the same direction that the kid ran to, so it couldn’t be him. It had to be someone else, and that thought caused his thoughts to fly with a sharp ragged fear all too fast.

  He turned, and saw someone that he had never seen before standing at the entrance to the alley. He couldn’t see who it was, the darkness seemed too great for that, but he could tell that it looked like a man. He could also tell that the man wore a deep black suit. “What the fuck are you looking at buddy?”

  The suit didn’t move. He stayed quiet. He stayed calm.

  Al puffed. “You a cop?” He had to ask. It made sense. He took a deep breath, readying himself for anything. What he didn’t, and couldn’t count on, was how fast everything did happen.

  The man blurred fast.

  He jumped at him so fast that he didn’t see him until he saw a hand right in front of his face. After seeing the hand, he saw nothing else. All he felt was a grip around his neck, and felt his legs give out and the pavement smack his knees as he slammed hard back down to the ground. He felt the grip around his neck squeeze until he heard a crack echo throughout his skull. He heard nothing after that sound. He felt nothing after his head twisted around towards his back. He felt nothing else as he died. It all happened too fast with everything disappearing within a blink of an eye.

  8

  The night looked so deep and the darkness felt all consuming when he made it back to the west side of town. He found the old abandoned building cold and deserted, and there he waited. The four stories of broken glass showed him not one sign of life or movement. It looked more than just deserted, it looked almost serene. It felt and looked eerie. The bright red bricks of the place stood out, with the low hanging streetlights casting shadows all around it. He found the red single door at the back of the building the same way. It stood out, almost looking like a century guarding the place, keeping the peace. It looked noticeable. It looked bored, standing there, wanting, and waiting.

  He approached the door, keeping as quiet as he could possibly be, with only the sounds of cars driving and their horns blearing off in the distance. The sounds all added to the eeriness of the surrounding buildings.

  The buildings in the area all looked the same. They all looked like old warehouses of one kind or another. They all felt deserted. They all felt unused. He didn’t know how long he had to wait for them to come again, but somehow, deep inside himself, he didn’t think that it would be very long. They would all come soon. He felt like they always have. Luckily, he was right. It didn’t take all that long at all.

  He could smell them coming, moving to the area with casual strides. He could smell a heavy mustiness in the air. He could smell an earthy smell within that mustiness. It all smelled unique. It had to be all of them, so he stayed to the opposite side of the street and looked towards his right, towards the city’s skyline, and there he watched. He tried to keep in the shadows, using the building‘s darkness around him as cover. He wasn’t ready for them to see him there. He still didn’t know if they would smell him or not, as he did with them, so he had to stay cautious. He had to stay calm. When they came around the corner of the street, he held his breaths. He just stood there and watched them come.

  The waning moon overhead cast their halos all around them as he watched them all come down the street. He counted five of them all together, and watched as they made it to the side of the building, coming towards the bright red door. Seeing them, watching them, they all looked so calm. They all looked friendly to one another. That feeling of them looking like a family crossed back over his thoughts. He envied that. The more he watched them—the more he felt them—he knew that he wanted to have those same feelings with them. He almost longed for it. He almost felt like he needed it.

  He watched them as they opened the red door and each of them went inside, one after the other, and continued watching as the door closed behind them when the last one, a young woman with blonde hair, left the street.

  Now, he wasn’t sure of what to do next. Should I walk up to the door and let myself inside? Should I knock and introduce myself? Would they welcome me? Would they know who I am—what I am? He had so many possibilities, but the more he thought about it, he knew nothing at all, and that unknown gripped his belly like a vise. He felt like a little schoolboy all over again, feeling afraid to introduce himself on the first full day of school. He felt nervous and anxious. He felt completely alone. What he did know seemed basic. I can’t just stand here and just watch. I have to know who they are. I have to get closer. I have to do something. It felt like a good idea, so he moved to the door to try to listen to them as quietly as he could do it. He had to hear what they were doing. He wanted to hear what they said to each other. He needed to know if they still felt close, even with the door closed behind them. He felt intrigued by everything. He wanted to see if they acted the same way when no one else was watching them.

  Quickly, he made his way across the street, and came to the red door. Before he reached it, the smell of sweetness came on the air. Mustiness came in with it, coming from behind him. The smell seemed young. The smell felt fresh. The smell also smelled feminine. He knew it instantly, and recognized it as the young woman with the red hair, the one he started watching from the very beginning. She had to be coming from behind him. With smelling her, he noticed how he was getting used to her scent. He seemed comfortable with her aroma. He felt comfortable around her.

  She came down the sidewalk and approached the building from his right. He turned to her and ducked back into the shadows of the building in front of her. Her red hair sparkled brightly around her head. The black leather jacket she wore creaked as she moved. He coul
d hear it clearly. Her soft white skin stood out strongly between both the jacket and her hair. The tan colored hue around her added to everything else about her. Seeing her approach, the sudden sense of not belonging crept up into his soul. He wasn’t sure how she would react to him being there, so he ducked away. His heart skipped when he did it.

  He watched her reach for the door, and watched as she turned towards him as she opened it. In doing so, she seemed to look right at him.

  He ducked down, pulling himself behind an old tree that lined the front of the building. Did she see me? Did she smell me? He didn’t know, but one thing that he did know was that in ducking away, he lost sight of her, so he couldn’t tell one way or the other. The smell of her scent faded with the sound of the door closing again, so he could only guess that she didn’t see him. He could only tell that she wasn’t there.

  He looked back around the tree and back to the door. It was closed. She was gone. It made sense. That was close. He made his way around the tree and walked back to the door again, cautiously, and took a deep breath. All of the mustiness now seemed to be on the other side of the door, and with all of them there, the scent became more than overwhelming, it seemed downright massive. Smelling all of them, a memory flashed through his mind. They’re familiar. I’ve smelled all of them before. I know them.

  He reached the door, leaned up against it, and placed his right ear to it and listened to them quietly. Through it, he could hear what sounded like people talking. They sounded faint. He could tell that they were nowhere near the door. He had to go further if he was going to get to within earshot of what they were actually saying to each other. Knowing that, the curiosity became overwhelming. He had to know more. He wanted it. He needed it. He had to take the chance. He had to open the door and move inside the building if he was going to find his answer; that now seemed more than obvious. He didn’t have the choice.