by Riley Moreno
Interrogation
Diesel knocked on the scarred wooden door. David Meyer’s cabin was small; one roomed and quaint. There was a rusty water can out front with a pair of galoshes which gave the impression that David was a gardener but there were no flowers nearby, no vegetable patch, nothing. There were weeds creeping up the trees closest to the house.
David Meyer was the resident bad boy. He had given Diesel some trouble with stolen goods and unnecessary rough housing during Shits in the full moon. But he was a petty criminal, and Diesel didn’t think he’d go so far as to facilitate hunting of his own kind for money. But then again, David had a chip on his shoulder against Shifter’s no one else had.
Diesel knocked again and was satisfied when he heard a shuffling from inside the house. David opened the door a second later. He was wearing a raggedy bathrobe that was worn down in places. He looked beleaguered and had bags under his puffy eyes.
“Long night?” Diesel asked casually.
“Yeah, so?” David asked. Diesel wanted to smack the hostility out of him.
“Where were you yesterday afternoon?” David asked.
“How is that any of your business?” David asked folding his arms. Diesel noticed that he kept his right leg slightly elevated from the floor, a hairs breadth.
“You were seen in Waterville Hotel with some unsavory people, David,” Diesel said noting the dull hooded eyes.
“Yeah, so?” David said again.
“What were you doing there David? What did they want?” Diesel asked.
“Is this about some crime that happened?” David asked. “Were those people robbed?”
“No,” Diesel had to admit.
“Well then what are you coming to me for? I was sleeping!”
“What happened to your leg?” Diesel asked. David hesitated. Diesel saw him coloring up and with his red hair it did not look cute.
“I fell down the ravine during a Shift last night,” he mumbled. “I must have sprained my ankle.”
“You should have that looked at,” Diesel said lightly.
“You think?” David sneered.
“What do you know about a hunt during the Blood Moon?” Diesel asked.
“That we all Shift and hunt as a pack, or try to at least,” David shrugged, “the young ones don’t have much control at this stage do they?”
“No,” Diesel said his patience fraying by the minute. “I meant a hunt where Shifters are prey.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” David said and he looked like he honestly meant it. Diesel wanted to believe he was innocent. After what his father had done it was impossible not to feel David’s contempt for the community he lived in but Diesel hoped it didn’t extend to wanting to see them all dead.
“Just a rumor going around that there are hunters in Waterville who want to hunt Shifter’s during the Blood Moon,” Diesel said casually, “Ramsey saw a man named Grim who’s famous for hunting indigenous people around the world. And the waitress, Courtney, from Pig Out saw you there.”
“Yeah well they wanted to know if they could rent my cabin for a few days of corporate retreat,” David said. “I told them it’s a pig sty and not big enough for their party so they can shove it.”
“Are you sure?” Diesel asked relived.
“What the hell, man!” David swore. “You think I would take money from some psycho who wants to kill people?”
“No I don’t which is why I came to see you,” Diesel said changing tack. “I wanted to know what you thought about Ramsey’s claim. Do you think the men in the Waterville Hotel are capable of what he thinks they’re capable of?”
David seemed to consider. He made a great act of it, squinting, his eyes taking on a faraway look, his finger taping his chin. He shook his head.
“No,” David said shrugging. “Plus I would have told you if I thought they were bad.”
Diesel didn’t believe David would ever cooperate with him but he couldn’t book him without a charge. Despite David’s claims that nothing nefarious was going on, Diesel felt an unease deep in his bones that wasn’t there before he’d parked outside David’s cabin.
Diesel returned to his car, David watched him closely as he backed out of his dirt drive and got on the concrete main road. David winced and limped back to his room. His leg was bruised badly and was swelling a little. He didn’t want to have to go to the hospital but he wasn’t going to have much of a choice soon.
He was stumped by the blue haired pixie in the woods. She’d obviously never seen a Shifter. Or knew what a Shifter was for that matter. He’d nearly killed her but she’d come down and set his leg to rights. David sucked in his lower lip and sunk his body in the ice bath he’d prepared for himself.
Life had been unfair to him. Son of a Shifter father and a non-Shifter mother; David looked like the pitting image of his abusive father. The father who had bashed his wife’s head in with the back of an axe.
The abuse had been long and well known in the community. David had gone to his neighbors to complain about his father, he’d even protested to the Sheriff back then to arrest him. But they always released him and his father would come back home, his head hanging in shame, promising he’d do better this time and his naïve mother would take him in again, and again, and again till he had slashed at his son’s face in a Shift rage and bashed her head in.
David had been glad when they found him one day with his throat ripped out by some other Shifter. David hated his father with a passion; he hated the community more for turning a blind eye to his brutality towards his family.
No one had cared much for him either. The community treated him as something feral, a wild dog that should be kept at a distance and he had sneered at them in turn; all until a blue haired girl, who knew nothing of Shifter’s, had touched him tenderly, been concerned about him.
Blue, he thought as he sunk deeper in to the water flecked with ice.
Chapter Seven
Lucy Woo
I wake up around nightfall. I must have dozed off under my covers waiting for someone to show up. I figure Sonya must want to come check up on my wellbeing. She should, really, after she failed to mention there were tigers in the woods. She had tried to persuade me against moving here but I was too thick to take a hint.
I venture to the kitchen for a bite of cold Pop Tarts; they taste divine after my starved morning sprint through the woods. I whisk at the crumbs and contemplate leaving the house again in the morning when my door is knocked and I nearly cry in relief.
I open the door, a large smile on my face, only to find Stranger Danger standing there. His beat up truck is parked on my drive. He’s staring at me intently and I seriously considered slamming the door on his face but he doesn’t seem threatening in the least; in fact he looks vulnerable.
“Sup?” I ask, trying to act all casual, leaning on the doorframe. He’s so tall I have to crane my neck.
“Thanks,” he says. His throat is dry and it comes out like a wheeze. He clears his throat and huffs. “Thank you, for the morning.”
“Oh,” I shrug, “it was nothing.”
He doesn’t seem pleased with my reply.
“Can I come in?” he asks, his shoes shuffling on the ground.
“Why?” I’m a bit more hostile to people here in Shifter Grove than I would have been if I hadn’t been attacked this morning.
“I just want to explain,” he says.
“Explain what?”
“Can I do it inside?” he looks like a boy who’s been caught being naughty and he’s looking for a break from a strict parent.
“I don’t even know your name,” I protest.
“David. David Meyer,” he says. He looks earnest to please.
“Oh, alright, if you must. I’m Lucy, by the way,” I leave the door open and he follows me into my sparse living room. “Well?”
“I attacked you this morning,” he says. His face is beet red and his eyes don’t meet mine.
“No,” I knew he was
worse than he looked. He’d been limping for sure but the tiger must have given him a concussion as well. “It was a tiger,” I say slowly, “you were jumped by a tiger and you must have hit your head. Sit down and I’ll take a look.”
“I’m not confused,” he says.
“Yes, but we should check nonetheless,” I turn around to scour for my flashlight. I rummage in the bottom drawer of my chest of drawers and find one that is weak but serviceable. I turn around in triumph and scream.
A tiger, large as life and stinking of earth and pines is standing in the middle of my living room. I scramble back but hit the chest of drawers. The tiger pads closer and I’m screaming, my head is arching back, away from the sharp teeth but I know this is the end. I shut my eyes and say a last prayer. The tiger’s face is brushing against mine, his nose nudging my cheek. It licks my nose.
I open my eyes a fraction. The tiger sits on its haunches looking at me as earnestly as David had. It had the same peculiar green eyes as David, and scars running the length across his face.
“Holy, crap, fuck,” I whisper sitting up straighter, my hand involuntarily raised in a gesture of peace. David nudges his fury head in my palm, his lithe feline body gliding towards me through my arm till his head rested on my shoulders, his giant body melded to mine.
It was a big fury hug, warm and consoling and I began to cry into his fur. It was special; the knowledge of his gift, and his glowing warmth. And gradually the fur turned to flesh and I was holding the man himself.
His cheek grazed mine as he pulled away slightly, his lips brushed mine, the fire of his breath buffeting against my own and I was kissing him. I was kissing the man who had attacked me in the morning, and I was holding him with abandon. He slid his hands in my hair, kissing me deeper but I had had enough kisses to last me a lifetime, I wanted more.
My hands slid down to his monstrous cock. I needed both hands for it and that was strangely arousing. He was busy ripping my clothes off. My breasts popped out of my top, my nipples were already hard and ached with pleasure as his rough hands grazed them.
I twisted down and kissed the tip of his cock and relished his moan. I took him deeper in, my inhibitions forgotten as I slathered my tongue up and down his thick shaft. He grabbed my ass in powerful hands and spanked me, ripping my slacks in one swift motion he fingered my pussy then licked it.
I nearly melted in a puddle of warm goo, his fingers sliding in and out of my hot snatch, his lips sucking my clit, his tongue teasing my pussy. I bit his cock and he moaned loudly as my teeth grazed his head, my tongue swirling around licking up pre-cum.
He was on me then, like the prowling jungle cat he was pinned me to the rug and slid his monstrosity in my tight pussy. It felt like a frisson of fire racing up my spine. I arched with it, my head falling back in pure erotic pleasure. We were at it for what felt like hours, taking each other in various positions around my house, my pussy swollen but ever ready for more of his delicious cock.
It was dawn by the time we collapsed in bed, exhausted but sated. He pulled me close to him, his arms thick and secure. It felt good to have someone in my bed; it felt good to be wanted. As I drifted off to sleep I thought of how he’d attacked me in the morning and how I should confront him about it, but my eyes were droopy and I was asleep before I knew it.
Chapter Eight
Guilt
David woke up feeling like a million dollars. He hadn’t slept so well in as long as he could remember. He stretched his arms and reached out for the petite warmth of Lucy but she wasn’t in bed. He opened his eyes to find her at the bedroom door, a mug of coffee in her hand, wearing a large sweatshirt and knee length socks.
“So why did you attack me?” she asked. Her expression was blunt, her eyes narrowed in curiosity. There was no hint of malice and for that David was grateful. “You can’t have wanted this place that bad; I mean it’s infested with rats.”
As if to prove her point a rat scurried past the skirting and into a hole at the baseboard. She raised her eyebrows in a see-what-I-mean way. David sat up in bed and rubbed his stubbled chin.
“I need the cabin for some folk,” he said. “They paid me a lot of money for the use of it.”
“Aren’t there more cabins in the woods they could get?” Lucy asked sitting down at the edge of the bed. “What do they need a cabin for anyway?”
“To hunt,” David said. He didn’t know why it was pouring out of him. Her bespectacled eyes didn’t seem to judge him. She’s reacted unexpectedly last night and even now she was surprising him with how cool she was. “They want to hunt Shifters. Other people who can turn in to animals.”
“Ooh,” she says suddenly, slapping her forehead. “That’s why they call it Shifter Grove. Is Sonya a Shifter?”
“Who?” David asks.
“Sonya Blackpaw,” Lucy says, “the Sheriff’s wife.”
“Oh,” he says, “No. The Sheriff is though. He’s a WerePanther.”
“Cool,” she nods and takes another swig of her coffee. “So can all of you control the Shift?”
“Some of us can, but it takes lots of practice,” David said leaning forward.
“So why did you take money from these people to hunt?” Lucy asked quietly.
“Because I hate them,” David said truthfully. “I hate them for allowing my dad to abuse me and my mom for years. They knew about it but they trusted him to change. Nine times he got arrested for domestic violence,” he points to the scars on his face. “He did this to me but the Sheriff back then let him go after a week in the slammer.”
“And that justifies the murder of their loved ones,” Lucy said.
“He bashed my mother’s head in with an axe because of the Sheriff’s negligence,” David snarled, “yes I think they all deserve to die!”
“Where is he now?” she asked.
“He got ripped to pieces during a Shift,” David said, “good riddance. He was never much of a father.”
“No I meant the Sheriff,” Lucy said.
That took David aback.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
“So you hate this guy for not keeping your father in jail,” Lucy said, “but you don’t hate him enough to find out what happened to him and was it as bad as he deserved. You haven’t even made the effort to confront him; your own form of therapy is to let innocent people in this community die.”
She didn’t sound angry. Just sad and David felt a tiny blossom of guilt. She had forgiven him for attacking her, for threatening her and being downright mean to a complete stranger but she’d found it in her heart to be nice to him.
“What do you want me to do?” David asked. “Give the money back?”
“Hell no,” she said. “Bastards like those deserve to be robbed. Keep the money but foil their plans. Tell everyone that they’re coming and scare the shit out of them.”
“They’ve got guns,” David said.
“And you’ve got numbers,” Lucy said. “Organize a mass raid, don’t give them a chance. It’s time you accepted the community as just a bunch of people trying to make the best of what they have. You were unlucky your father was such a bastard. You don’t have to be.”
David mulled the idea over as she sank in next to him. She offered him her mug and he sipped her coffee, the smell of her perfume wafting in his nostrils was pleasant. He could imagine being like this with her for a long time to come.
“Okay,” he promised. “I guess I better see Diesel.”
Chapter Nine
Blood Moon
The woods were dark; the crickets sang their nocturnal songs and kept the hunters company. They were old men with new gadgets, heat vision googles to see in the dark and high powered weapons to shoot to kill.
They were supposed to meet David Meyer at the eastern edge of the woods to show them to their cabin but he hadn’t been there. After waiting for an hour they had decided to press on, the company antsy to get started on the action.
Grim had left his companions behi
nd half an hour ago. The woods were strangely silent for a congregation of over two hundred Shifters. He could smell the scent of wild animals interspersed with each other, and he was reminded strongly of the Zoo in Lahore where he had gone in search of the Hazara, a small tribe persecuted and ostracized and thus made fun to hunt.
Grim had always loved the hunt, even as a small child. He’d lure ducklings away from the pond on his father’s estate and kill them all in different ways. He’d behead one, rip the feathers and legs off the other and stab the other. Killing was such an inventive way but nothing beat a bullet shot in bone and sinew.
After killing indigenous tribes and exotic animals on the brink of extinction Grim had wanted a new challenge, something nobody had killed before, an animal worthy of a challenge. He had chanced upon ancient Cherokee texts of men who were animals and one with the earth, Chiefs who had the ability to take the form of a specific animal and hunt in the night for their tribe.
There was a howl a few miles north, a wolf howl, calling his brothers to join ranks. A roar followed and Grim recognized it as lion, just a few meters ahead in the woods. Jackal, hyena, tigers, leopards, panthers, bears, he recognized the calls of all.
And then a human scream.
The woods were filled with sounds of carnage. He knew something was amiss, his party had gone asunder and were in trouble now. He thought of going after them to help, but the quick silence of one scream and then the other told him it was too late. They had walked in to a trap.
The Blood Moon rose high in the sky, an angry eye staring down at him, as red as the blood of the Pygmy children they had played golf with; their little bodies buried in the sand, their heads golf balls that he and his friends had swung across the field to their wailing mothers.
There was a growl behind him, a soft pad on the earth. Grim turned around slowly. A tiger, scarred and bedraggled was prowling around him, a low guttural roar escaping its lips. The snap and crackle of a tree branch and Grim turned just in time to see a panther jump lightly on the ground cutting off his retreat on the east. A bear trundled in to the path on the west and a wily fox with sharp fangs. He was cornered.