Wolf
by
Tommy Donbavand
To: Zohrna, Ellisha, Jamie, Lewis,
Courtney, Shane, Salula, Ellise, Calum,
Charlie, Bethany, Finley, Alex, Liam H,
Aiden, Levi, Blake, Liam C, Erynn,
Sonia and Danielle
First American edition published in 2012 by Stoke Books,
an imprint of Barrington Stoke Ltd
18 Walker Street, Edinburgh, United Kingdom, EH3 7LP
www.stokebooks.com
Copyright © 2011 Tommy Donbavand
Illustrations © Julie-ann Murray
All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of
this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise – without the
prior written permission of Barrington Stoke Ltd, except for
inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.
A catalog record for this book is available from
the US Library of Congress
Distributed in the United States and Canada by Lerner Publisher
Services, a division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.
241 First Avenue North, Minneapolis, MN 55401
www.lernerbooks.com.
ISBN 978-1-78112-033-0
Printed in China
eISBN: 978-1-78112-065-1
Contents
1 Claws
2 Fur
3 Tail
4 Snout
5 Eyes
6 Spine
7 Teeth
Claws
I reached under my pillow to grab a chocolate chip cookie from the half-empty pack and stuffed it into my mouth in one bite. Then I flicked off the pause button and went on blasting zombies on my new Playstation game.
The tips of my fingers were hurting a little. Perhaps I’d been playing this game a little too long. Or maybe I was pressing the buttons too hard. I decided to take a break when I got to the end of the level.
I bit into another cookie, making sure to brush any crumbs off the bed covers. I was really hungry tonight – but I knew my mom would go crazy if she found out I’d snuck a packet of cookies up here. She said every room has its own use and if I wanted to eat in my bedroom, then I might as well start sleeping in the dining room.
The zombies on the screen kept up their attack. My character in the game had a baseball bat in his hands and was bashing their heads in with it. They moaned each time I hit them, but I made sure to keep the volume low since my dad was downstairs reading the paper, and I didn’t want to disturb him.
My mom and dad can be a little strict at times, but there’s always a good reason for their little rules and, as long as I stick to them, I get a treat every now and then – like this new game.
My fingers were really sore now, so I pressed pause again to take a break. My hands felt hot and stiff. I could see the lines of the veins in my palms. What was going on?
I was about to call for my mom when the first claw ripped through the end of the middle finger on my right hand. It slid right out of the end, ripping my own finger-nail off and spurting blood all over the bed. My mom was going to kill me when she saw this mess!
Another claw sliced through my skin – this time, the thumb on my left hand. I stared in horror at the long, sharp, yellow talon, still dripping with blood. My nail hadn’t been torn off all the way this time and it hung, attached by a flap of skin, above the claw.
My shock gave way to pure panic and I don’t mind telling you that I screamed – loud and long. I was terrified.
By the time my mom and dad came to the door of my room, I had three more claws on my fingers and two had ripped through the ends of my toes, right through my socks. It was a good thing my mom made me take my shoes off as soon as I got home from school.
“Adam!” my mom gasped. I turned towards her. I was crying. Tears were streaming down my face as another talon tore its way free of my fingertip. I wanted to wipe the tears away, but my hands were soaked with blood and I didn’t want to put my fingers too close to my face in case I did any more damage.
Then my mom buried her face in my dad’s chest and said something I really didn’t expect to hear. Something that chilled me to the bone. “It’s started!” she sobbed. “It’s started to happen!”
For a moment, I forgot all about the pain in my hands and feet, even though the last remaining claws were slicing through the skin and ripping away my nails. “What do you mean?” I asked in horror. “What’s started?”
My dad came to kneel beside the bed, leaving my mom crying in the doorway. She couldn’t look at me. He pulled the pillowcase off my top pillow and began to wipe the blood from my fingers, ignoring the packet of chocolate chip cookies now plainly in view.
“It’s OK,” he said softly, rubbing my hands clean. “We’ve known for a long time that this might happen, but we’re going to deal with it.” He carefully pulled away the two fingernails still attached to my skin, then turned to remove what was left of my socks from my blood-soaked feet.
“What is it?” I asked. “What’s happening to me, Dad?”
He looked back up at me and I could see his eyes were wet with tears, too. “Adam,” he said as calmly as he could, “you’re changing into a werewolf.”
Fur
I saw the light from the full moon shine through the window as my dad led me carefully into the bathroom. Could he be right? Was I really turning into a werewolf? Ten minutes ago the worst thing I had to worry about was cookie crumbs on the bed covers.
“We need to get you cleaned up,” said my dad as he turned the faucet and started to fill the sink with water. Every room has its own use – even when you live with a monster. I sat on the side of the bathtub. My mom stood in the doorway, but she still couldn’t look at me.
My hands and feet hurt like hell. Blood was starting to clot around the torn skin of my fingers and toes. My dad dipped a cloth into the warm water and began to wash it away. For some stupid reason, my dad being so nice to me made me want to cry again.
“Werewolves aren’t real!” I said, fighting back tears. “Werewolves aren’t real!” I don’t know who I was trying to convince more – myself or my mom and dad.
No one said anything. The only sound was the splash of the blood-red water in the sink as my dad dipped the cloth in again. My leg felt itchy, but I didn’t dare scratch it with my new claws, so I rubbed it with my elbow.
“What’s going to happen to me?” I asked.
My dad kept on washing me. “I don’t know,” he said in a low voice. “But I don’t think this is the end of it.”
I felt my heart thump in my chest. “You mean other parts of me will change?”
Before my dad could answer, my mom spoke up. “We don’t know that!” she said. “It could stop after this.” I don’t know why she seemed so angry. It wasn’t as if I was doing this on purpose.
Then a thought came into my head. “How do you even know about this?” I asked. “How did you know that I was becoming a werewolf?”
My mom and dad looked at each other again. This time, however, my mom looked scared rather than angry. I itched my chin with the back of my hand.
“Werewolves are real, Adam,” my dad said firmly. “Your mom and I have known about them for a long time.”
“But how – ” I began.
My dad stopped me. “It’s not something everyone knows about – most people just think they’re just in comics or movies. But, when you have one in the family ...” His voice trailed off into silence.
“Then why doesn’t it affect you or Mom?” I asked. “If this is something that happens to our family, then why have I neve
r seen either of you change?”
My mom made a sound like a low sob. I didn’t dare look at her in case it started me crying again. Instead, I tried to focus on rubbing my heel against the annoying itch on my other shin.
My dad sighed. He suddenly looked a lot older than before. When he spoke, his voice was very quiet. “Because we aren’t your real parents. We adopted you,” he said.
For a few seconds, it felt like the bathroom was spinning around me and I almost fell backwards into the bath.
“You’re not my mom and dad?”
My mom scowled. “Of course we are!” she snapped. “We’ve given you a much better life than that pair of …”
“That’s enough!” my dad shouted.
Silence filled the bathroom again. I began to scratch madly at my chest with my new claws. They were good for something after all.
“Your real parents died when you were a baby,” my dad continued. “We – your mom and I – we took you in, and …”
He stopped, watching me. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
“I’m itching all over!” I moaned, scratching harder than ever. Suddenly, my long claws ripped through the thin material of my school shirt and it tore away. My dad gasped and I looked down.
My chest was covered with thick, brown fur.
Tail
I pulled off what was left of my shirt and stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. My belly, chest and shoulders were covered in thick, dark fur, and the stuff was beginning to creep up along my arms and hands.
My shins were itching too, so I quickly tugged off my pants and stood in only my boxer shorts. Within seconds my feet, legs and knees were hidden under a layer of dense fur, each hair forcing itself through my skin.
By the end, the chocolate brown fur crept up my neck and began to cover my face. There wasn’t a razor in the world that would be able to shave this amount of hair. The funny thing was, once I was covered from head to toe, it didn’t itch anymore. It did feel like I was wearing a thick dressing gown, though.
If I hadn’t been so scared I would have laughed. It had to be a joke. First of all I started growing claws, then I found out that my mom and dad aren’t my real parents, and now I look like a walking teddy bear. Someone, somewhere, was laughing at me.
I was red hot under all that fur and the heater in the bathroom was switched on full as usual. I had to get out of there and cool down.
I staggered out onto the landing and leaned back against the wooden railings at the top of the stairs. As I passed my mom, the fur on my side rubbed against her bare arm and she pulled away from me with a squeal. My eyes flicked up to meet hers and, for a moment, I wasn’t sure who she was. I shook my head and told myself it was just because my mind was confused with everything else that was happening.
It wasn’t as hot on the landing, and I took a few deep breaths to try and calm myself. “Did they have to go through this?” I asked.
My mom, still standing in the bathroom doorway, with her arms folded, looked puzzled. “Did who have to go through what?”
“My real parents,” I said. “Did they change like this?”
“We don’t know,” said my dad as he pulled the plug out of the sink and watched the swirling, dirty red water vanish down the drain. “We didn’t know them that well.”
“You must have known them a little,” I said. “They did give you their baby.”
My mom choked back a laugh. “If only it had been like that,” she sighed.
My dad threw her a look and stepped out onto the landing beside me. “They had to give you up rather quickly,” he said, looking away from me. “There wasn’t really time to get to know them – as people, that is.”
There was another cold laugh from my mom. “People ...” she muttered.
My back was pressed hard against the wooden railings and I shifted my weight a little. “OK,” I said. “What were their names?”
My dad was quiet for a moment. “Like I said, we didn’t really know them …”
“Maybe not,” I argued, “but there must be information somewhere, about where I was born and who my parents were. If I can find out more about them, maybe I can learn how to stop this!” I was starting to lose my temper. The lower part of my back was really sore, and neither my mom nor my dad seemed to want to give me an honest answer.
“I might have family,” I said, bending forward to try and ease the pain that pounded in my back, at the bottom of my spine. “Aunts or uncles – other werewolves who could teach me how to – ”
“No!” my mom shouted. “You’re one of us now – not one of those ... those animals! You won’t have anything to do with them!”
I felt the anger build inside me. “But I need to find out if I can – ” I fell forward as the pain in my spine suddenly exploded. Inside I felt the muscles in my back stretch and grow, twisting around themselves to form a thick rope that forced its way over the top of my boxers. Fur swept down over the length of skin, covering it within seconds.
I had grown a tail.
Snout
My mom shuddered and turned away. I stayed where I was, on all fours, and glared up at her – my tail swishing from side to side.
“I will find my real family,” I growled. “You can’t stop me.”
“You don’t need to be rude,” my dad said, taking my arm and helping me to my feet. “Your mom’s just trying to look out for you.”
“Look out for me?” I gasped. “You’ve said nothing to me about any of this for years! Then, in one night, not only am I a werewolf, but I’m not even your son!”
“Of course you’re our son,” my dad said, giving me a hug. He didn’t seem worried about touching my fur, although he flinched a little as my tail flicked against his leg. I wasn’t really sure how to keep it under control yet.
I pressed my furry face against his chest and closed my eyes. I could hear his heartbeat in my ear, and it made me feel safe. I began to cry, and could feel tears trickle through the thick hairs on my cheeks. “Who am I?” I whispered.
I could tell from the way my dad was breathing that he was crying, too. “You’re Adam Heath,” he said softly. “You always have been, and you always will be.”
After a moment, I opened my eyes again, hoping that it was all over and I was back to normal. It wasn’t. I still looked like I was half dog.
Suddenly, an idea came to me and I pushed myself away from my dad. “The Internet!” I cried.
“What about it?” asked my mom sharply.
“They have all kinds of information online,” I said. “I bet there’s a website where you can find out about birth records!” I began to run down the stairs, feeling hopeful for the first time since this nightmare had started.
“You can’t use the laptop,” my mom said firmly. “It got a virus and the hard drive died. I have to take it in to be repaired.”
“That’s OK,” I said. “I’ll use the computer in dad’s office.”
“You will not!” shouted my mom.
I stopped, halfway down the stairs. My nose was twitching and I could feel my face begin to stretch out into some kind of snout. I gritted my teeth against the pain as my bones cracked and reshaped themselves and tried my best to ignore the long whiskers pushing out from the clumps of fur on my cheeks.
“But, there’s a computer in the office,” I repeated. “I might be able to find some answers ...”
My mom had her don’t-mess-with-me-face on. “Do not go anywhere near that room!” she shouted.
I sighed. I’d never been allowed inside my dad’s office. It was always kept locked and he never talked about what he did when he was in there. I knew there was a computer inside, however, because once I saw my dad coming out with some trip booking emails he’d printed off.
Every room has its own use – and this one was so my dad could get away from his family. Just like he did when he went on those long fishing trips without me.
My face was shaped like a wolf’s now, and inside my mouth a long ton
gue lolled from side to side. It made talking difficult, but I tried. “Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Why won’t you let me find out about my real family?”
My mom stood her ground. “Your father’s office is off-limits, young man!”
With my new nose, I could smell all kinds of odd things from around the house. I knew there was an old sock somewhere under my bed, a rotting banana skin in the kitchen garbage, and there was something else ... Something I’d never smelled before – but I knew instantly what it was.
It was fear. My mom was scared of me!
This is stupid, I thought. If she’d just give me half an hour on the computer, I might be able to find a way to change things back. Then she wouldn’t need to be scared!
I made up my mind to use the computer in my dad’s office whether she liked it or not. I leapt down the last few stairs and ran along the hallway to the closed door next to the downstairs bathroom. I didn’t know where the key was kept, but maybe I could break the door open or even use one of my long claws to pick the lock.
As I grabbed the door handle I heard footsteps behind me and felt the cold steel on my neck as a metal dog collar was slipped around my throat.
Eyes
My dad clipped a thick dog lead onto the collar and tugged me away from the office door. The metal chain pulled tight around my throat as he dragged me along the hall with all his might.
“What are you doing?” I gasped.
“Your mom told you to stay away from my office!” he shouted.
The sharp claws on my feet scratched at the polished wooden floor as he pulled me into the front room. The dog collar was one of those ones that closed tighter the more you pulled on it. It was so tight around my throat that I thought it was going to choke me.
“Please ... stop!” I begged.
But my dad didn’t stop. He yanked on the lead as hard as possible, tightening the collar even more. My mom stood behind him, staring at me in horror as though she was looking at some kind of monster. I don’t know what upset me more – the look on her face, or the metal chain closing in around my neck.
Wolf Page 1