by Amy Cross
"Jess," says Duncan," you need to shift".
I look at him. Does he really want me to be human again? After all this time? I pause, but there's a serious look on his face, so I sigh and shift my body back to my human form. I stand up straight, and it feels odd to be like this again. I stretch, and it feels as if my body has been asleep for years.
"Are you okay?" I ask, looking at Garvey.
"He's infected," Duncan says. "A patho-virus of some sort. Very specific. Worryingly specific".
"It's okay," Garvey says. He coughs. "It's only spread through blood, so you're safe". He coughs again, and this time a little blood comes up. "Just keep back a little," he adds.
"What kind of virus?" I ask. "What kind of virus affects werewolves?"
"This one," Duncan says, a dark quality to his voice. It's as if this is the dark cloud he has been expecting for so long. "It's designed specifically to attack werewolves".
"Designed?" I ask. "By who?"
"The humans," Duncan says. "I knew this would happen one day. They've genetically engineered a virus that kills werewolves".
"Kills?" I ask, looking at Garvey.
"It's okay," Garvey says. "I've lived a long life, longer than most. We all have to pass on some time, to go over to the other side and join Lacanth".
"Lacanth?" I ask, even more confused.
"Ignore him," Duncan says. "Superstitious nonsense". He stares at me. "When we die, we die. That's all there is to it".
"I hope to -" Garvey says, before breaking into a long coughing fit. "I hope to prove you wrong," he says eventually.
Duncan takes a deep breath. "How did they infect you?"
"The oldest trick in the book," Garvey says. "Poisoned meat. The virus is harmless to humans and other animals, so they just spread it among the population and waited for werewolves to feed". He reaches up and clasps Duncan's shoulder with his hand. "I've seen so many of our species, dying in the streets. I've seen their agony. You must go. You must get away from here as fast as possible and you must never come back".
"Go?" Duncan asks. "Go where?"
"The estates," Garvey says. "You'll be safe there".
"No we won't," Duncan says. "They'll come to the estates and destroy us in our own homes. You're an honourable wolf, Garvey, and it serves you well, but the one disadvantage is that you expect the same honour in others".
Garvey smiles, but it's a weak, defeated smile. He gasps, and Duncan reaches down to put a hand on the side of his face. They're clearly old friends.
"Why did you come to find me?" Duncan asks. "You could have gone anywhere. You could have gone home to die. Why here?"
Garvey tries to speak, but he can't. He gasps and splutters, but nothing comes out. Finally, he strains to speak. "The humans have always been aggressive to our species. But lately there is something new about them, some new level of hatred that I can't explain. It's as if they see us as vermin".
"Which is exactly why the estates won't be safe," Duncan says.
"I came to tell you..." Garvey whispers. "Don't throw your life away for a fight you can't win. When the time comes, don't let honour lead you to death. Run, Duncan. Find somewhere safe and live a long and happy life. Don't do what I did. Don't let honour be your downfall. Sometimes it's braver to run than to stand and -" He stops speaking. We wait for a moment for him to continue, and then I realise there's nothing more to come.
He's dead.
Duncan reaches down and gently closes his eyes.
"Was he -"
"Don't speak," Duncan says firmly, not looking up at me.
"Sorry," I say.
He looks at me, anger in his eyes. "Don't speak!" he shouts. Almost trembling with rage, he picks Garvey's body up. "I'll be back shortly after sundown," he says, and with that he turns and walks away.
Part of me wants to go after him, to make sure he's okay. Another part of me wants to tell him never, ever to speak to me like that again, especially after what I went through recently to save his life. In the end, as he disappears into the distance, I decide to follow him discreetly.
He walks for almost an hour, until he reaches a small hill overlooking the forest. It's getting dark now and the sun is low in the red and orange sky, with the moon slowly becoming visible. We're so far from civilization, there are no artificial lights anywhere to be seen, and the stars are bright. As I watch from a distance, Duncan sets Garvey's body down and then stands for a moment before shifting his shape. At first I assume he's taken his wolf form, but then I realise something strange: the light is bad and all I can make out is a silhouette, but whatever Duncan has become, it's neither human or wolf, it's... some kind of mix of the two.
And then he howls to the moon. It's a shocking, stunning sight. I peer at him, trying to make out exactly what he has become. I'm desperate to get closer, to see this new, third form that he has taken, but I know that I don't dare let him know that I've followed him like this. In fact, as I watch him mourning his friend, I realise that I have no right to be here. I turn and head back towards our cave. He'll come and join me soon enough. But what did I just see? I always assumed werewolves had only two forms: wolf and human. But there's a third...
2
It rained all day and it's raining all night. Taking shelter under the awning of a shop, I watch from the shadows as humans tumble in and out of pubs. They're shouting and screaming and laughing and arguing and brawling, drunk and delirious, acting as if they own this city. It's as if they all think they're indestructible, as if they don't for a moment consider the possibility that their lives could be snuffed out in just a moment or two. Perhaps that's how they react to terrorism. When bombs go off in London, the people of Britain drown their sorrows in beer. The more brutal the reality, the more desperate the lie.
One of the humans stumbles out of the pub alone and heads along the street. He looks strong, but also drunk. I silently follow him, making sure to keep well within the shadows. There are humans everywhere in Edinburgh, and I really don't want to be spotted. They'd rush over and pet me, telling me how cute I am, and I'd have to hold off from ripping all their throats out. So it's best for me, and for them, if I keep to myself. Nevertheless, the urge to teach them a lesson is strong. This human, wandering alone and drunk through Edinburgh's dark, twisty streets, is a perfect target. I can kill him without anyone interrupting.
I stay on his trail for a few minutes, until I'm sure that there's no-one about. We're in a less busy part of town now, and although his screams will bring people running, I'm confident I can do the job and get away before anyone spots me. So I catch up to him a little, keeping a few paces behind, watching him... learning how he moves... understanding something about him from the way he walks. Although killing him won't be a challenge, I like to remain professional and clinical. Just because I'm a wolf, doesn't mean I have to be a beast about things.
But I'm delaying. Putting off the strike.
This won't do.
I leap onto his back, knocking him to the ground. He's drunk and confused as I bite down hard on the back of his neck, and he lets out a little cry, but not enough for anyone to hear. He's so intoxicated, he can barely even fight back, and as I tear at his flesh it occurs to me that I should have picked a more worthy opponent. His blood flows into my mouth and I drink it deep, thinking of all the werewolves who have died at the hands of humans. Killing this miserable wretch doesn't even begin to compensate for all that horror.
"Get away from him!" shouts a voice nearby.
I look up to see two men racing towards me. Where did they come from? I swear I didn't hear anyone nearby. For a moment, I'm not sure what to do, but then I get my senses back and I turn and run. The humans have no chance of catching up to me, of course, and I'm soon up and over a wall and safely away. When I finally stop running, I taste the man's blood in my mouth and I feel good. I'm not certain that I managed to kill him, but I know I did some damage and he lost a lot of blood.
I don't even care that other humans saw me.
Let them see me. Wolves have been watching as humans kill other wolves for centuries, so why not turn things around a little. These humans deserve to die. If I can bring to them even a fraction of the pain and anguish that they've brought to my people over the years, I'll be doing a good job and they will suffer nightmares for the rest of their pathetic little lives.
Filled with courage and high on adrenalin, I look up to the moon and howl. I don't care if the humans hear me. It's time for them to be scared. It's time for them to know what it's like to be hunted. I won't rest until Edinburgh's streets run red with the blood of the human race. They will know our pain.
3
"The ecotone," Duncan says, his face illuminated by the single flickering candle we have burning in the cave," is the region of transition between two biological entities. It's where the habitat of one creature overlaps with the habitat of another. It can be permanent, or it can be..." He pauses, and looks at me with a deadly serious look on his face. "It can be the moment when one species takes over and destroys another".
I don't know what to say. He seems so sure that something bad is happening, so sure that we have to be prepared for the worst. It scares me, but I can't dismiss his fears. "One species destroys another," I say slowly. "So... humans. And werewolves".
Duncan nods. "Humans and werewolves have had an uneasy truce for many centuries. But lately... human governments seem far less willing to consider working with the werewolves, even though..." He sighs. "Even though we gave into every demand they have". He seems angry now. "Every time they changed the terms of the agreement, we accepted it. Every time they went back on their word, we accepted it. And now... Now it's the endgame. The point that's been coming for so many years. I warned them. I said this would happen and now here it is".
"Who?" I ask. "Who did you warn?"
"All of them," he says. "The old fools. The elders of the estate. I told them that the humans could never be trusted, and do you know what they said to me? They said I was wrong. That I was too cynical. That I should trust the humans. But now look. They're exterminating us. All of us. All the werewolves". He looks at me, shock in his eyes. "Thomas Lumic was right".
"Lumic?" I ask. "He was insane!"
"He was right about the humans," Duncan says. "He always said we shouldn't trust them. He always said they're filth, that we have to keep away from them. He was wrong about a lot of things, but he was right about that". There's a level of intensity to the way that Duncan is staring at me, a level of anger and rage, that I've never seen in him before. I understand that he's mourning his friend's death, and that he's bitter, but it's hard to see how he could be saying these things about humans.
"I was human once," I say.
"But you're not now," Duncan spits back at me. "Thank God. If you were, I swear..."
"What?" I ask.
Nothing. He just looks at me.
"What would you do?" I continue. "If I were still human, would you leave me? Would you hate me?" I wait for him to answer, but he doesn't. "Would you kill me?"
He looks away. "Humans and werewolves don't mix. They can't. I was wrong to leave the estate and go to London. Lumic was dead right". He turns back to me. "I'm going back," he says.
"Going back?" I ask. "To Scotland?"
He nods. "Back to the estate. It's the one part of Britain that werewolves are still allowed to inhabit. I'll go back there, and I'll live my life happily among my own people -"
"That's segregation," I say. "You're segregating your species, you're limiting yourself".
He shakes his head. "I'm being realistic. It's wonderful up there, Jess. There's plenty of space. And no humans, just other werewolves".
I stare at him, shocked that he'd even consider such a choice. "You'd still be a prisoner up there," I say. "You wouldn't be free".
"No-one's free," he says. "At least this way there'd be no humans about. And if the humans did come and try to take the estate... I swear, I'd make them pay".
"You're not a killer," I say.
"I'm a werewolf," he replies. "Of course I'm a killer. And so are you. It's in our blood".
"And what if I won't come with you?" I say. "What if I refuse to hide myself away on this estate, waiting for humans to come and kill me?"
He stares at me, and then he sighs. "I have to go," he says. "If the humans attack the estate, I have to be there. I can't let any more of my friends die. And if the humans don't attack, then it's a good life up there". He reaches out a hand to touch my shoulder. "And I'll protect you up there -"
"And I'll protect you," I say.
"I'll make sure nothing happens to you," he says. "To us". He leans forward and kisses me on the cheek, then he keeps his face close to mine. "We can't run forever," he says. "At least if we go to the estate, we have a chance. A good chance".
I feel his breath on my face. The truth is, going to this estate sounds like the best option. But... the idea of separating myself from humans for the rest of my life is daunting. To be honest, I still feel human in some ways. I tried to deny it, but now I'm back in my human form, I feel my human nature is stronger than ever. Is this how it's always going to be? I thought a werewolf could combined those two sides, to create a single self. But my human and werewolf sides seem to be two totally different, totally irreconcilable parts of me. And I'm not sure I'm ready to abandon my human side just yet.
"I'll come with you," I say, even though I'm not sure if it's the right decision.
Duncan smiles. "You won't regret it," he says.
I pause, remembering what I saw when Duncan was mourning Garvey. If I'm going to go to the estate with him, it means I'm making a commitment. Like marriage. And if I'm doing that, I need to know the truth. "What happened when you buried Garvey?" I ask, trying to sound like I'm only casually interested.
"Nothing," he says. "I just..." His voice trails off. "It's done. I had to do it alone. You understand, right?"
I nod. "I thought I heard you howling," I say.
"Probably".
"But it didn't sound quite like you," I continue, trying to prompt him to tell me more. "It sounded like you, but different".
"I was just upset," he says. "Garvey was a good friend. A good wolf. A good person. He shouldn't have died, not like that, not ever. I'll miss him. But he's dead now. There's nothing more we can do for him".
I open my mouth to say more, but I decide not to press things any more. We sit by the candle for a little longer, and Duncan seems lost in thought. I can't help glancing at him from time to time, and wondering what I really saw. What is Duncan, really? And what am I? Is there more to being a werewolf than I realised? Is there a third form that I can take, and what is it?
We sit there for more than an hour, neither of us speaking. Finally, we settle down to sleep. We look into one another's eyes as the light of the candle dims. Still, we don't speak, but slowly our hands touch one another's bodies. We kiss, and I feel that I've made the right decision by option to go to Scotland, to live on the estate. Tomorrow we'll set off on the long journey north, avoiding humans wherever possible and finally reaching our new home, our new life. We need to sleep, but before we do, we continue to kiss, and eventually we make love as the candle burns out.
4
The window is open.
I creep slowly through the yard. There are voices inside, and there's the sound of a crying baby. This is a house full of humans, a house where they feel safe. On the outskirts of Edinburgh, they live in these little terraced houses and they think they're safe. They think there's nothing that can hurt them, that the cruelty and horror of the world will stay away from them. Funny, that's what I thought once, too. When I was a child, I thought no-one would ever, could ever, even try to harm me.
Then things changed.
Tonight, things are going to change for this family.
As I reach the window, I realise that the voices are in another room. I stand up on my rear legs and look inside. It's a brightly-lit, comfortable-looking room, nicely decorated a
nd with a friendly atmosphere. There's laughter coming from a nearby room. This family seems happy, and affluent, and innocent. And in the corner of the room there's a crib, and from the crib there's the sound of gurgling. A moment ago, the child was crying, but now it seems to be at peace. Perhaps it has sensed that I'm here. Or am I giving the child too much credit? Perhaps it's simply a dumb little creature. After all, if it were smart, would it grow up to become a human?
I leap up onto the edge of the window, pause for a moment to make sure that there's no-one coming, and then I jump down into the room. When was the last time I was in a normal human house? So long ago that I can't remember, that's for sure. Perhaps never; perhaps I just imagined places like this but was never actually inside one. It's so hard to recall things from the past. I'm living in the present now. Only the present. The past is history, it's old news, and the future is just a dream. There's only right here, right now, to worry about.
I step towards the crib. I can smell the baby now, and I stand up on my rear legs and put my front paws on the crib's side. It's a big, wide crib, so I jump in and find myself standing directly on top of the baby. Looking up at me with wide blue eyes, the baby falls silent. It has probably never seen a wolf before, certainly not up close. It's probably used to simply having its parents come to its crib, and they probably just lean in and make stupid noises.
We've all been there, baby.
We all had parents once.
It doesn't last. Eventually you have to go out into the world on your own, to stand on your own two - or in some cases four - legs and see what you can do. Many people fail, and end up living long, dull lives that hurt and ache. But some people succeed, and it's the chance to be one of the few success stories that drives most people to keep pushing, to keep striving, to keep believing.
We can't keep our parents around forever.
"Jesus Christ!" shouts a voice. I look up. A woman has entered the room, and she's standing staring at me, shock and horror on her face. "Lance!" she screams. "LANCE!"