Fatal

by S. T. Hill

  It was a strange contrast. The BMW had all the luxury accessories: leather seats, a GPS right in the dash, the speedometer and all the other gauges projected onto the windshield. And in the driver seat sat a guy wearing a torn leather jacket, blue jeans with torn, thready knees, and a few days worth of stubble on his cheeks.

  He even looked uncomfortable there, shifting to find the right position. The automatic mirrors kept whining as they tried to follow his movements.

  He pulled away just as one of the campus' Crown Victoria security cruisers pulled around.

  "Where are we going? Did you find Jenn?"

  "Not yet. But I did some checking, and I think I might have an idea what's happened."

  I turned towards him, the cafeteria gone from my mind. The shoulder strap dug into my flesh.

  "Really? What is it?" I said.

  Adam sighed, his eyes scanning the road ahead. There was another car waiting to pull out of the campus, its brake lights a sinister red.

  "I... I can't really explain it here."

  "So, where are we going?" I said.

  "My place. My parents' place. It's just on the other side of town.”

  Hazelglen was so small it didn't really have anything resembling a rush hour. In fact, I thought it probably only had a couple intersections with traffic lights. And that was on Main Street. The rest of the town was all four-way stops.

  There weren't many pedestrians, either. Everyone wanted to stay out of the frost, I guess. A few people scurried down the sidewalks, their shoulders hunched.

  We passed the police department, which was a rather modern-looking building nestled between two houses. A couple cruisers sat in front of it, and I could see the officer sitting at the front desk in his black uniform. If I called them now, would they consider Jenn a missing person? It should have been long enough.

  The BMW's engine purred louder as we started up the other side of the valley. Was his place outside town? The bright blue halogen headlights lit the trees and the shoulder of the road in spectral light.

  I would have missed the driveway if we didn't turn onto it.

  The old house was surrounded by an impenetrable tangle of trees. Even with no leaves, their branches were all so close together I couldn't see the sky. The house sat on a circular plot, the dead grass cut short right up to the edge of the tree line.

  The house was three floors high, with a central turret poking a bit over top of the tree canopy like some sort of snorkel.

  There were no lights on in the many windows. It was the sort of place you might expect to see in a ghost story. Except the shutters were all in place, none hanging loose to flap and whine on their hinges in the breeze. The paint, from what I could see of it in the car's headlights, looked fresh and not chipped.

  Despite the obvious care taken for it, a shiver ran down my spine and I shifted uncomfortably on my heated seat.

  "Is... Is anyone home?" I said.

  "Only me. The family doesn't like to spend a lot of time around here. It's hard to shake a reputation in a small town."

  "So why are you here?"

  He killed the engine. The headlights stayed on for a few moments before dying as well. A shot of fear ran down through the center of my chest. Keep calm, I told myself, it's just an old house. But what did it have to do with Jenn?

  Adam stepped out of the car, his feet crunching the gravel on the driveway. Cold air rushed into the cabin, forcing my little pocket of warmth out. The windshield started fogging with my misty breaths.

  "Tradition. All the Arnold men go to Redeemer. Come on, it's warm inside. And there's food," he added, snorting a little laugh.

  The front door was up four steps, surrounded by a covered porch. At that moment, the patio furniture sat in the dark were mounds of monstrous shadow.

  Adam unlocked the big old oak door and tugged it open. Even with it dark inside, I could feel how big the room inside was as my senses reached out into it.

  He flicked on the light.

  "Home, sweet home..." he said, sounding like he'd rather be anywhere else at that moment.

  "Wow..."

  An enormous chandelier suspended from the ceiling (which seemed to go all the way up through the first and second floors here) lit the hall. There was a broad spiral staircase ahead. More rooms let off from this one. I thought I saw the end of a long dinner table through a set of French doors.

  "You live here?" I said. It seemed like a grand old hotel.

  A grand old haunted hotel, that is.

  "I try to spend as much time away as possible. There are people who come once every few days to make sure everything's still clean, but usually I'm all alone here."

  "Is Jenn here now?" I said, hoping this was all some big surprise reveal about how he'd found her and nursed her back to health here.

  "No. Come on; kitchen's this way. Sorry I had to pull you away like that, but there's not a whole lot of time."

  "Time for what?" I said.

  Then he grasped my hand. My body responded, buzzing with a contented warmth. This was what I'd wanted after our date (I know he never said it was a date, but I'm saying it was!). His palm was warm and dry, and his fingers squeezed just tight enough around mine as he led me away from that massive entry hall.

  Chapter 23

  The kitchen was huge, with massive stainless steel appliances and beautiful carved cabinets. A marble-topped island ran most of the length of the room, with its own sink.

  So it was a bit of a letdown when he pulled a loaf of bread out of a basket, a jar of peanut butter from a cupboard under the island, and a plate and a butter knife from a dishwasher. Even so, my mouth still watered.

  He smeared the peanut butter over a slice of bread as he talked.

  "You know how I told you that there's a family curse? I'm sure Jim's talked about it, too," he said.

  I nodded, licking my lips as I watched the knife blade spread the smooth, brown peanut butter over the white bread. He went right to the edges with it.

  "Well, there really is a curse. I'm sure you've heard of all the witch trial stuff that went on in New England?"

  "I've seen The Crucible," I said, "So... you guys are witches or warlocks or something?"

  He snorted and shook his head as he cut the crusts off the slice. He did the same thing with the next piece as well, then he pushed the plate bearing the peanut butter bread across the island to me. I grabbed it up and took one bite, closing my eyes as it stuck to the roof of my mouth.

  "No, not witches or anything. But there was a witch. My great-great... whatever grandfather denounced her to the witch hunters that came into the area. Anyway, it turns out my grandfather was having an affair with this witch, and he probably told the hunters out of spite or something. No one in the family's sure why..."

  I'd already finished one slice of bread. Normally, I would have asked for a glass of water or milk or something, but I was so hungry I didn't mind the way it gummed up my mouth.

  It sounded like a familiar story. Man cheats on wife, decides he doesn't want mistress anymore, tries to get rid of mistress. Mistress tries to get even.

  "So... what did she do?" I said, leaning my elbows against the cool, hard marble.

  Adam shrugged and brushed some strands of hair off his face. He still hadn't taken off his jacket.

  "They found her guilty and went to burn her. Right in the center of town. So they tied her up at the stake, lots of wood and kindling and all that at her feet."

  I shivered and looked over my shoulders at the long, quiet room. What a poor woman. I thought about what it must have been like, tied to some wooden post, angry, ignorant Puritans waving torches. Would she smell herself cooking? What a morbid thought.

  "So she calls my ancestor up to the front, who's just hanging out, waiting for the burning to start. For some reason, he walks right up the wood pile to stand in front of her. Maybe she had him under a spell or something. But he kisses her, and she bites his lip to draw blood. The villagers drag him away after th
at. Just as the fire really starts to get going, she calls out the curse in some awful tongue no one can understand but my ancestor."

  The second piece of bread only had one bite out of it. My eyes felt dry, but I couldn't blink. This was awful. I kept picturing it all in my head, the witch tied up, the flames licking at the hem of her dress, the ends of her hair beginning to smoke as she cackles...

  "What? What did she say?"

  Adam ran his fingernails through the stubble along his jaw line, making a scratching sound that had me wincing. He took a deep breath and glanced up and down the room.

  "She said that the firstborn son of his line in every generation will be cursed to walk the earth in the skin of a wolf. It was blood magic, that's why she needed him to kiss her. It sealed the deal."

  I blinked, my eyes grateful for the moisture. My first reaction was anger, hot in my chest.

  "What is this, a joke? Are you trying to tell me that you're a werewolf?"

  "Yes, actually. I can control it most nights..." he said, looking down at the butter knife smeared with peanut butter, twisting the blade between his fingers, "But then, when I went out with you..."

  I pushed away from the island.

  "You are such an asshole! What does all this crap have to do with Jenn? Did you even look for her?"

  "I know it sounds crazy. But it's true. I also know you don't believe me, but you will."

  "Why are you telling me this?"

  He came around the island as I leaned against the big fridge. The stainless steel door felt pleasantly cool against my back as I rubbed at my eyes with my wrist.

  "Because I feel good around you, normal. I don't know why, but I think we have a connection. I noticed it that first night I saw you, at one of Jim's parties."

  He stood in front of me, putting one of his hands over my shoulder against the fridge door. I became aware of how close we were, of how he smelled. I swallowed heavily as he looked me in the eye.

  "I like you, Steph. A lot, I think. I thought you needed to know the truth about me, that maybe you wouldn't think I was such a monster."

  He swallowed then, too, his eyes flicking down to my lips and back up.

  "You're scaring me," I said, I kept thinking of what Vick told me.

  My body buzzed with heat, and it was hard to get enough air into my lungs. My heart slammed against my ribs.

  "There's just one thing I want to do first, before I tell you the rest," he said.

  "The rest of what?"

  My hands slid along the fridge door trying to find the edge so I could pull myself out of there. The last time I'd felt anything like this was with Jenn, that night, with her hand on the back of my neck, pulling my face towards hers.

  But there was more fear this time, more uncertainty mixed with the desire to feel him against me. I didn't know what I wanted to happen anymore. The guy believed he was a werewolf!

  My fingers found the edge of the door and I started pulling.

  Then he kissed me. His stubble was rough against my skin, and his mouth insistent. And hot, so hot. I put my hands on his shoulders, ready to push him away. But I pulled him closer so our hips touched.

  His arms wrapped around my waist and crushed me against me so hard I could barely breathe. I trembled in his grasp as our lips worked, my entire body electrified with an unshackled need.

  Then he pushed back away from me, shoulders heaving as he stumbled and caught himself against the counter.

  Chapter 24

  His face twisted like he was in pain.

  My lips stung, we'd kissed so hard. My body flushed with heat. It had been incredible, just as I'd wanted and imagined. But the wish fulfillment was tainted by what he'd said.

  "What… what else did you have to say?" I said.

  "Not much time," he breathed, squeezing the counter so that his knuckles turned white, "There's a room, downstairs. Come on."

  He pushed himself away. I wanted to call after him, to ask what was happening, to ask what he was going to reveal. But he stumbled from the kitchen. I had to choose between following him and being by myself in that old, creepy house.

  So I came with him. He opened a door that led down to the basement, nearly falling down the stairs when he hit the light switch. He was hunched over, and I could hear his breaths whistling in and out between his clenched teeth.

  My own breathing was rapid, too. Adrenaline coursed through me, hot and cold, all my senses sharpened from it.

  "Adam? Where are we going?" I said, almost whispering. It felt like a whispering occasion, somehow wrong.

  He trailed one hand along the rail, gripping it tightly every time he descended a stair. Again, I considered just running back up and outside. There was that BMW parked out front. But Adam had the key for it in his pocket.

  Something snapped inside him, the noise alone enough to send my stomach tumbling. He nearly fell down the stairs, then.

  "Adam!" I said, grabbing him by the arm to keep him from tumbling away.

  Beneath his jacket, I could feel his flesh and bones moving, changing shape.

  I wanted to let go as a primal fear shot up my spine, but another spasm grabbed him so I kept him from falling.

  "Just... over here..." he said.

  When I saw his face, it was absolutely dripping with sweat. His features were twisted, his teeth clenched together and his lips pulled back. Whatever it was had to be absolute agony.

  My body started responding to him, feeling a sympathetic pang deep in my muscles every time he groaned.

  "There... that room," he said, leaning against the wall and pointing at an opened wooden door with thick steel bands running across it. It had to be at least four inches or so thick.

  I ran over to it, pushing it the rest of the way open and searching for a light switch, running my hands along the wall. All I felt were deep gouges in the wood. The only light came in through a skylight, right in the middle of the ceiling about thirty feet from the floor.

  My eyes adjusted, and I saw the deep scratches all over the walls. They were jagged and long.

  "What... what is this?" I said.

  "Now you believe me," Adam said.

  I jumped at his voice. It had changed again, taking on that awful, modulated tone. And he was right behind me, leaning against the doorframe.

  "Lock me in... not safe out here..."

  "What is it, Adam, what's happening?"

  He's turning into a werewolf, I thought. Something in my mind knew, even though the rest of me wouldn't accept it. Werewolves were stupid dog monsters for late-night horror flicks.

  But I moved aside all the same. He fell onto the floor, his back arching up as he tore at his hair.

  "Damn..." he said, "Not the jacket... Here!"

  He worked the already torn jacket off his shoulders and tossed it to me. Then he started trying to take the rest of his clothes off. His t-shirt ripped as his suddenly clawed fingers tore into it.

  His abs and chest, just like his face, were soaked and glistening with sweat.

  "Close the door!" he said.

  His eyes had changed. They were yellow, now. My brain reacted, taking over. I slammed the door shut, turned around, and leaned against it. From within the room there was a ripping noise, followed by an inhuman cry of pain.

  I buried my face in his jacket, blotting out the world as I covered my ears. That only succeeded in muffling the noise a little.

  I'd never felt so terrified in my whole life. I'd heard phrases like "scared stupid" and "petrified" before to describe the feeling, but never before did I feel so scared that I was actually incapable of moving, of helping myself.

  It was like the human body just shut down in that scenario, somehow realizing there was no way out of the situation and choosing instead to let nature take its course.

  At first, I thought the silence was just my brain somehow turning off.

  No, I thought, you're not dead. He's just not making any noise anymore.

  That almost scared me more than when
he had been. At least then I had some idea of what was going on.

  The air was stuffy and stale in his jacket, too, pressed right up against my nose and mouth like that. The urge to breathe came back and I lifted my face away from it.

  That pounding noise was my heart. That rasp the breath rushing in and out between teeth clenched in fear. Despite my earlier coldness, a chilly bead of sweat ran down the curve of my spine.

  But aside from that, there was nothing. I heard nothing from behind that door.

  Swallowing, trying to push that lump back down my throat, I leaned forward onto all fours and then climbed to my feet. Not knowing what else to do with it, I threw Adam's jacket around my shoulders. It was several sizes too large for me. I fingered the tears in the leather and thought about the claws I'd watched sprout from where Adam's fingernails used to be.

  I became aware of something breathing heavily and deeply behind me. My back tensed. This was the part in horror movies when the dumb blonde turned to find the beast staring right at her, its eyes hungry and saliva dripping from its fangs.

  I understood that urge now, too. That desire to turn and put a face to your fear.

  A thought flashed through my mind: is this how Jenn felt?

  Slowly, I turned.

  Those yellow eyes stared back at me through the little barred window in the door. Below them was a long, black-furred snout. I got the impression of a muscular, wolfish body standing behind the door.

  Those clawed hands, swollen now to monstrous proportion, reached up and wrapped around the bars as he draw his lips back from fangs that were far too white.

  "Adam?" I said.

  When he growled, I could feel the reverberations in my chest. This wasn't Adam. It shared the same body, but one look into those feral eyes and I knew there was nothing of that man left in there.

  The monster tried reaching through the bars, but his forearm was too thick. When it got stuck, he roared.

  I screamed and fell back on my ass, turning over right away and scrabbling away on all fours, too terrified to make that leap onto my feet to sprint.

  That huge door slammed against its frame as I ran up the stairs and slammed the basement entrance shut behind me.