Pain Cages

by Kane, Paul

  The door opened and he looked up sharply, sniffing the air. His reflexes were still pretty good, and he knew even before the person walked in through the door it wasn’t anybody he was expecting. Just an old man in a raincoat who stank of piss, looking for company on another lonely evening.

  Neil’s thoughts turned again to the past, and its impact on the present.

  He wondered, once more, what the others would be like when he saw them again. His old mates that he’d hooked up with at university, a gang that had found each other and then been practically inseparable for so long. Up until he hit thirty, they’d all be going out together on the lash every few weeks… when the time was right. He’d enjoyed those adventures so much, from his late teens until––

  Right, you enjoyed those times so much that you turned your back on them. Turned your back on your best friends.

  That wasn’t true; he hadn’t turned his back on anyone. He’d just changed. They all had. For one thing Jack was starting to make headway with his band ‘Brutal’, who one reviewer described as ‘the rock equivalent of being given a blow-job backstage at a lingerie fashion shoot’. Before too long he was talking about albums and tours, then all of a sudden he was gone. Adrian had worked his way up from serving in a burger bar to being the manager, moving to where the head office was, while model-look-a-like Luke’s repping took him further and further afield, with no one real place he could call his home anymore. As for Owen and Ryan, they’d eventually got their act together enough to get off the dole (helped by the fact that the benefits system was undergoing an overhaul and anyone who didn’t at least attempt to find work had their money cut). Owen had actually joined the police force, if you could believe it; was doing pretty well by all accounts, but had moved several times with his profession. Ryan had attempted to hold down one job after another, from builder’s apprentice––in spite of his age––to night watchman (that was a good one). Last Neil heard, he was doing manual labor on a farm––better lock up those chickens––but he was the only one of the group who’d remained relatively local (well, within 50 miles, anyway––but it was surprising how far that distance was when you really didn’t want to see someone). The most local apart from Neil, that was, who hadn’t moved at all––except to another, quieter, part of town. Out of his flat and into somewhere bigger. With:

  Julie.

  She’d come along even before Jack went off with the band, though, hadn’t she? The more he thought about it, the more Neil wondered whether he had been the catalyst for them all breaking up and going their separate ways. He hadn’t been their ring leader by any means––had there even been such a thing?––but maybe he’d been the glue that bound them all together. He hadn’t thought of himself as such, but the guys had sort of gravitated towards him at uni, been drawn into his orbit one by one. Neil had always thought of Luke, or perhaps Jack, as the dominant force in their rag-tag bunch, but once he’d taken himself out of the equation things had fallen apart pretty quickly. And he’d taken himself out of the equation because of:

  Julie.

  It all came back to her, didn’t it? If he hadn’t met her, then maybe––

  Neil shook his head and took another sip of his bitter. He loved Julie (loved as in past tense? or present?). She hadn’t been like the rest; not one of the women he and his mates targeted on their nights out, Luke usually getting to the most attractive ones first, although Neil hadn’t done so badly in his time. This had been different. For one thing, he’d met her outside of the group––when he was doing a grocery shop, in fact. He’d been wandering about in the supermarket with his basket, head up his arse, thinking about the approaching fun that coming Friday (back then it had been the highlight of his month). He’d turned the corner and almost knocked her over. As it was he’d knocked the basket out of her hands.

  “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” she’d said.

  “I’m really sorry,” he’d replied, stooping to pick up her microwave meals for one, tins of soup and assorted fruit and vegetables. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her face. Even in all the times he’d been out with the lads, he’d never seen anyone as pretty as her: short, strawberry-blonde hair, cropped so that it framed her face then hung in bangs just under her chin; the most piercing green eyes, like sapphires shining out of a mine; and those lips, the fullest you could ever imagine. She didn’t need any lipstick, any make-up, and it was a good job too because she hadn’t bothered for this trip to the store. Nor had she dressed up: she was just wearing jeans and a jumper, with a short denim jacket––well, she hadn’t been expecting to bump into the soon-to-be love of her life.

  However, the overall effect of her appearance on Neil had been nothing short of revelatory.

  (Later, when the other members of the circle had seen her, they’d said she was nothing special––that he was deluding himself. Neil knew different, knew that they were only jealous. That he had something as magnificent as Julie and they didn’t. Later, much later, he began to see what they meant…)

  “I should think so,” she said, taking the basket from him. Their fingers had touched, and she’d felt the spark. Neil had made sure of that. It was one of the perks of being who he was––what he was. He’d looked into those green eyes, in a bid to entrance her as much as she’d entranced him. And… there it was. Her heart was beating just a little quicker, not a consequence of banging into him, almost falling, but something else. The effect he was purposefully having on her. Provoking feelings in her that he knew were already bubbling away beneath the surface… She’d been alone long enough, he felt it––the consequence of being hurt by a man in the past. Time to change all that, time she had someone. Someone like Neil. “Listen,” she said, suddenly smiling, her breathing fast and shallow, “I know it sounds crazy but… do you want to get out of here. Maybe go somewhere?”

  He nodded. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  In those early days when they looked back and chatted about the day they’d met, Julie would mention how they’d just clicked, how something had told her it was the right thing to do: to go with him there and then, back to his flat. “I just couldn’t help myself,” she’d say, giggling. Little realizing that she’d had a ‘push’. That he’d done the same kind of number on her he had to all those others, the same thing Luke and the rest had pulled to get those girls in those nightclubs outside into the alleys. No––he told himself, and would keep telling himself––it was what Julie had wanted. It hadn’t been the same.

  Ten minutes later, the shopping was forgotten about and they were back at his place, all over each other. It was animalistic, that first time––and many times after that. They were tearing each other’s clothes off, raking each other’s skin; biting, sucking, rutting on his bed. They’d done it five times that evening, Neil barely pausing for breath between sessions (he’d excelled himself, even he had to admit––spurred on by Julie’s beauty, the magnificence of her body… it had been a long time since he’d thought of it like that… the scent of her). Afterwards, they’d lain on the bed, puffing, sweaty and exhausted. And Neil had held her, cradling her in his arms––thankful that it was only close to that time of the month rather than into it. Not hers, but his.

  They both had work the next day, Julie explaining that she was a primary school teacher, Neil revealing he was a librarian, but it had been hard parting. She wanted to see him again that weekend, but he reluctantly had to confess he had plans. “I always see my old uni mates round about now,” he explained, badly. “They’d be upset if I cried off.”

  Julie’s face had fallen. “Fine. If you don’t want to see me, just say so.”

  Neil had cupped that face in his hand, then said: “I’m not like him.”

  Julie frowned. “Who?”

  He realized he’d said too much, given away what he’d sensed about her––just one of those extra abilities that came with the territory (though far stronger when it was almost that ‘special time’). “Erm, whoever it was that hurt
you,” he told her. “I won’t ever do that.” It seemed a strange thing to say to someone you’d left angry red scratches all over the previous night, but he knew what he meant. Thankfully, so did Julie.

  “No, I don’t believe you would, Neil.” They’d agreed to meet up the following Monday, and those three days were probably the worst he’d ever spent. The guys knew there was something wrong, but hadn’t been able to put their finger on it; he’d masked Julie’s scent pretty well and none of them had ever been able to read him. It had just been the way he’d hung back as the others checked out what was on offer in places like Monty’s and The Green Room––“Quite a bit of talent out there,” Adrian had said, that cheeky grin plastered on his face. He’d nudged Neil, but got no response. “What’s the fuck’s the matter with you?”

  “Nothing,” Neil lied.

  And he’d taken part, reluctantly, in the proceedings––which on the Saturday night had included luring a quartet of girls outside so they could have their way with them. Neil remembered it well, even after he changed. It wasn’t like the movies, wasn’t what people thought. Yes, it was the full moon that weekend, but that didn’t mean you instantly turned. It was brought on by what they were doing out there with those girls, brought on by the taste of blood and flesh. If you didn’t do it voluntarily, then that was a different matter––the beast inside would usually break out at some point, take over. It was better to be in control, to satisfy the hunger like this than drive yourself into a rampage. Besides, it was fun. Or at least it had been, before:

  Julie.

  Neil had been the last one to transform in that alleyway. All he could see when Luke, Owen, Ryan, Jack and Aide were taking their turns with the girls was Julie’s face. Julie’s face instead of the red-head that Ryan was tearing into, ripping a piece out of her neck, while Jack took chunks out of her thigh; Julie’s face instead of the young blonde girl being held with arms outstretched, Adrian and Owen sinking their teeth into one limb each; Julie’s face instead of the tanned brunette with the short skirt that Luke was slavering over, tongue descending, forcing her legs apart and then claiming a lump of her most sensitive parts, which he swallowed greedily. As busy as they were, they all took a moment to glance back at him, wondering why he wasn’t joining them in this feast. Swallowing, Neil brought on the wolf––his eyes taking on that terrifying yellow and red cast, hairs sprouting as his jaw elongated, slipping out of his clothes momentarily so they didn’t get covered in blood.

  He’d joined them, but again hung back––only lapping at the pools of scarlet liquid, which appeared black in the moonlight, giving it the sheen of motor oil. The taste of it should have sent him wild; but it didn’t, not tonight. Once he’d longed for girls like these to ravage, to devour, but now he felt disgusted. Disgusting.

  When it was all over, and the clean-up done––including morphing back into human form––the group took him to one side. “Okay,” said Luke, lighting up a cigarette (he always smoked after feeding), “give.”

  “Yeah,” said Jack, scratching his beard, the tattoos on his hand and lower arm clearly visible, “what’s the problem, Neilly-boy? Not getting past it, are you?” He laughed and Neil remembered that sound, because it had been meant to be ironic back then. These days it certainly had more resonance.

  “Nothing… nothing’s wrong,” he’d said again and they could at least sense that something was. He wasn’t a good enough actor to fool them for long. Nevertheless, they hadn’t got it out of him that night, nor the next. In fact, it only came to light when Owen and Ryan had spotted him out on a date with Julie a couple of weeks later, coming out of the cinema holding hands.

  That had led to what Adrian had called an ‘intervention’. They’d all been waiting for him one night after work, bundled him into the back of Jack’s van, and questioned him, tried to fathom out exactly what he was playing at.

  “I’m not playing at anything,” he’d told them. “I think… I think she’s the one.”

  “The one what?” asked Aide.

  “There aren’t any ‘ones’,” Jack spat. “Only the next meal.”

  Ryan looked at him seriously then. “You do know you can’t have a normal life with this woman, don’t you? How can you?”

  Neil had shrugged. He hadn’t really thought that far ahead, to be honest. But he didn’t want to hear it from them, didn’t want to admit it right there and then (he was ready to admit it now, though, all these years later… oh yes).

  “Why don’t you do yourself a favor and leave her to us, we’ll take care of the problem,” Ryan had told him, pushing his greasy hair back out of his eyes. “We’ll make it quick, this full moon coming. You can watch if you like. Might even fancy her more when we’ve… made a few improvements.” He’d raked the air with his nails and that had been it. Neil leapt forward, grabbing him and slamming him against the wall of the van. It had taken Luke, Jack and Adrian to pull him off.

  “You touch her,” he’d snarled. “Any of you fucking so much as look at her…” He hadn’t finished that sentence; hadn’t needed to.

  They’d let him go, all looking at each other like they’d just been slapped in the face. Then seeing the look in his eye, and knowing he meant business. That had been the moment, the pivotal moment––and he’d felt dreadful afterwards. The lads had dropped him off with promises that they’d talk about this some other time, but gradually––and inevitably––he’d lost contact with them. He certainly hadn’t joined them on their monthly nights out anymore. Couldn’t, after what had happened on the last occasion. Neil began spending more and more time with Julie, until they were almost inseparable. It wasn’t as hard as he thought it might be, controlling those urges––even on the three nights when they were at their height. Neil found that if he fed privately just before the evening, stealing what he needed from the local abattoir, it was easier to dull the ache he felt by not running with the pack. If it got too much for him, when he thought he might hurt Julie inadvertently, he’d make up some excuse to be away for a couple of nights––usually work related. She bought it, after all they spent the rest of the month together, and they were happy.

  When his friends drifted off in their own directions, he’d clung more and more to Julie. So much so that it seemed like the logical thing for them to get married. They were a partnership now, the two of them against the world. It would mean giving up his bachelor pad, mean them pooling their resources and putting down a deposit on a house in the ’burbs, but it would be worth it to be so close. Julie, thankfully, didn’t have many relatives or friends. Neil had even less, and had no intentions of inviting his fake parents to the small affair. They spent the money they’d saved on a nice honeymoon instead, one of the best periods of Neil’s life.

  It was after that things started to fall apart. Julie began talking about a family and, though he hadn’t thought about it before, Neil began to warm to the idea. Looking back, he couldn’t believe what he’d been thinking. If he’d inherited his traits from his real parents––or one of them––then wouldn’t he run the risk of passing this on to his son or daughter? In the end it turned out not to be an issue, because after trying for a while they were both tested and it was found that the chances of Julie ever conceiving were slim to negligible; some kind of problem with her ovulation. Again, that time of the month––just hers this time.

  Whether she felt like she’d failed, Neil wasn’t sure, or that he’d look elsewhere for the mother of his children (he wouldn’t) but that’s when things began to grow distant between them. And they even ended up having a row one night when she mentioned the possibility of adopting. Neil told her why he was against it, but she just hadn’t been able to understand.

  “I don’t see what the one has to do with the other. You had a decent upbringing because of being adopted, didn’t you?”

  Neil couldn’t deny it, his parents had done a good job of looking after him. It was just that it had all been a lie, and he’d come from somewhere else. Was something el
se, but Neil wasn’t ready to share that particular fact with Julie, even then. She’d ended up shouting, he’d shouted back––the kind of passion they’d used to experience in the bedroom. Then he’d stormed out, going to get drunk in the Oak, which was rapidly becoming his bolt-hole away from everything. It was peaceful at least, and nobody really disturbed him.

  When he returned that night, more than a little worse for wear, she’d said nothing––just sat there on the couch with her arms folded, watching some old black and white film, but not really taking it in. They barely exchanged a word, even as they got ready for bed, and then into the next day. Then the day after that…

  It became the norm that they’d hardly talk, the lack of communication turning into a comfortable habit. It seemed a better alternative to the bickering that would flare up over nothing. They’d work, come home, watch television then go to bed, usually curled up on their own side––the divide between them more than just distance. Neil knew that she still loved him, and he loved her. But something had broken fundamentally and he didn’t know how to fix it.

  It probably wasn’t a coincidence that at the same time this was happening, Neil began to feel his baser urges increasing. Sometimes it was all he could do to keep from transforming right there and then of an evening, if it was full moon. The bloody raw meat he managed to get his hands on was no longer cutting it for him, and he began to think more and more about the past, about his time with the other members of the gang. That just made things worse. Sometimes, to his shame, he’d think about those girls and give them Julie’s face, but it would actually make him more stimulated. Neil had taken to retreating to a safe place during those three nights every month, locking himself up in the basement of the library. There was a barred cubby hole meant for keeping the rarest books safe from burglars, but it also served to keep Neil in. It was no way to live, he realized that, but wasn’t sure what he could do about the situation. Julie accepted whatever excuse he gave, usually without question––but the odd sideways look and bite of the lip told him that she thought he was seeing another woman. She never questioned him about it openly. Probably frightened of the answer.