by Mac Flynn
Chuck sighed and shook his head. He sat back down on the couch and looked her in the eye.
"I hate to admit this, but your story is pretty unbelievable," he pointed out, and Stephanie's heart sank. "But it all fits together, doesn't it?"
"Hunh?" Stephanie blinked, and he leaned back and smiled.
"Everything you've told me makes sense, at least from everything I've read," he told her as he nodded at all his movies. "I'm sure you saw my fine collection of horror, and I've got a book collection to rival that back there." He jerked his head toward the far back bookshelves.
"Actually, I saw that collection, too," she sheepishly admitted.
"Snooping around while I was gone?" he guessed with amusement, and she nodded. "Well, you've found out my secret, and I've found out yours." Here he paused and a small frown crossed his face. "Did you tell anyone else about this?"
"Actually, I told, well, I told Bob," Stephanie cringed, and the frown on Chuck's face grew deeper.
"And did he believe you?" Chuck asked. He looked like he wanted to get up and anxiously pace the room, but he remained rooted to his seat. Perhaps he didn't want to make her any more uneasy.
"I think he believed me when I told him some dogs attacked me, but I didn't really tell him much more than that," she revealed to her partner. "That's how we got into that fight on the way to the hospital. I really wouldn't tell him anymore than I'd already done."
"It was probably a pretty good idea not to trust him with all the information," he agreed and complimented. "He probably would have used it against you in the divorce, saying you were somehow unfit to take care of yourself and needed a guardian."
"A guardian like him, he would have said," Stephanie finished for him. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. To be in the grips of that short-tempered, controlling man would have been unbearable.
"Well, that didn't happen, so no sense thinking about it," Chuck pointed out.
"Yeah, but I still can't shake the feeling that somehow he'll find out about what I just told you," she replied with a shake of her head. "I don't know why, I just expect him to put two and two together." A bitter smile crossed her lips. "Maybe because he wanted to know so bad the last time we talked about what I was hiding from him.
"Is he interested in folklore at all?" her partner wondered, and she shook her head.
"I never saw him have a taste for reading a book ever," she revealed. His stupidity was turning out to be a good thing for her. "He probably only knows werewolves from movies, but he never liked to watch horror movies, either."
"Well, that's some points in your favor then," Chuck mused with a sigh of relief. Stephanie, though, was giving him a good, hard look.
"So does that...does that mean you really believe me?" she asked him. She hesitated to know the answer in fear it would be the one she wasn't look for, but she needed to know. "That all this stuff happened and I...I might be a monster?"
"I don't know about the monster part, but I believe your story," he answered with a firm shake of his head. "Like I said before, it fits with all your symptoms. You know, mood swings, overwhelming cravings for meat, and the strange feelings you get when you look at the moon."
"I suppose when you put it that way, it almost sounds like scientific fact," she laughed, and Chuck was glad to hear that sound ring through his home. "But now that you know the truth, what am I supposed to do-"
"We."
"What was that?" she asked, confused at the interruption.
"You just said 'what am I supposed to do.' You should be using the word we," Chuck insisted.
"I don't think I have the right to drag you any further into this mess," Stephanie objected. She cared too much about him to drag him into this mythical world she found herself falling into. "I just need your advice about what to do next."
"I really don't think it works that way. At least, not in any of my movies," he pointed out, again confusing her already muddled and scared mind.
"What in the world are you talking about?"
"In my movies," he explained as he nodded toward the shelves of movies. "Whenever the truth is revealed, whoever hears it from the lead character is de facto part of the main party and needs to see it through till the end. Unless, of course, they get killed on the way there."
"I can't believe you're using that as an argument against me," Stephanie blinked in surprise. It sounded too juvenile for him. "You know I'm not joking about any of this, right? This stuff is real. These things are really following me and trying to get their claws on me." Then she was reminded of something, and her face paled. Chuck noticed the change in color.
"What's wrong?" he seriously asked, all joking brushed aside.
"What's worse is I think it's followed me here," Stephanie added. "Those wolf tracks you saw yesterday looked a lot like the feet of one of them that attacked me, but I'm not sure which one."
"You're right, that isn't something to joke about," Chuck agreed with a grave nod.
"Any idea, oh wise one, why in the world they could be following me so far?" she asked him. She waved her hand in the general direction of the last conference town they'd been in. "I mean, that's a pretty long distance for one of them to be coming after me, but both?"
"Well, the easiest explanation is usually the best one," he mused as the corners of his mouth twitched up in a grin. "Maybe they like you." Stephanie's face dropped and her eyes narrowed.
"They like me?" she repeated, and he nodded. "Is that it?"
"Maybe the best way to say it, in proper terms, is that they really like you," he replied, which still didn't help her believe his theory.
"I like a lot of people, but I don't go chasing after them."
"Well, a lot of people aren't werewolves, and I think that really matters here," he pointed out. "They probably have stronger base instincts, so they're forced to follow those against their will."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that they see you as a potential mate, and they're trying to either woo you or get into your pants to make babies with you," he bluntly informed her. He liked the nice shade of red that slipped onto her cheeks.
"Well-but-hunh?" she stuttered out. She blinked and shook her head. She couldn't imagine one man fighting for her, but now she had two werewolves beating each other up over her. "Seriously?"
"Well, I could be wrong," Chuck admitted with a shrug. "I mean, the one who made you could just want to protect you, but the other one sounds like he pretty obviously wants to mate with you."
"Wait, the one who made me? The one who gave me this scratch?" Stephanie asked. She held up her scarred arm and glanced over the healed wound.
"Precisely," her partner agreed. Chuck got up from his seat and wandered over to the bookshelves in the back. Stephanie turned around and noticed he hesitated in front of the shelf where she'd found the folklore book. It wasn't a long pause, though, and he pulled out precisely the same book she'd read. "This book's got a lot of info in it," he informed her as he walked back to the living room. "You might want to read up on what's happening to yourself." The young woman took the book in hand, but she was very confused.
"How are you taking this so calmly?" she asked him with disbelief so thick it was dripping from her words. "I mean, you're believing this even more than I am. Why?"
"I suppose it's a dream come true for a fan of folklore like myself," Chuck answered as he plopped back down onto the couch. "You know, everything I've always imagined and hoped would make the world interesting-."
"And all in one cute little package," she joked, and he smiled.
"There's that bonus, but I suppose overall I'm just showing my happiness at just knowing there's something more out there. An exciting world that's waiting for discovery."
"Yeah, so exciting," Stephanie replied with a sigh. She'd rather be stuck in his normal world than be in the one she'd been thrust into now. She set her hand over the scar on her arm and shook her head. "Why did those two werewolves even come after me in the firs
t place? Why did any of this happen?"
"That's a good question," Chuck added. He noticed how saddened she looked, and his voice grew soft and calm. There was no more excitement for his own discovery of the supernatural. "Maybe it was destiny to happen this way, or just dumb bad luck. Either way it's the cards you've been dealt, and wishing it away won't change anything." Stephanie looked away and shook her head. "What's wrong?"
"Do you think...do you think there's some way to stop this change? I don't know if I'm doomed already, but maybe there's a way to reverse it back to my normal self?"
"It doesn't really look too good for you," he admitted with heavy regret. "To be honest, I can't think of a single instance in folklore where the process was reversed." He looked down and flipped through the pages. "The closest it might get is you dying and being turned into a vampire."
"Great, that sounds so much better," Stephanie grumbled. She lifted her legs up onto the chair and pulled them against her chest. She didn't care how childish she looked, it made her feel some comfort as she pulled her body into herself. It was her way of blocking out the terrible world she was finding herself forever trapped inside. "I just...I just don't want any of this."
It started with a few sniffles, but then a sob rose up from her throat and broke free from her lips. Before she could stop herself her cheeks were soaked and she was blubbering like a baby. Chuck softly dropped the book on the couch and swiftly went over to her side. He wrapped his arms around her and she eagerly, desperately clutched onto his shirt.
"Why me?" she managed to choke out. "Why is any of this happening to me?"
"I don't know, but you're not alone," he whispered. He buried his head into her hair and breathed deeply her sweet scent. "I'm here for you, Boss. Don't let yourself forget that."
"I'm trying, but I just don't understand why you're still here," she argued. She pushed away from his warm, firm chest and looked up into his face. Her mouth was set in a frown of deep worry. "I-I'm dangerous to anyone I'm around, I have to be. Just look at what those other werewolves did to my house. What if I went crazy like them and did that to you?"
"I think I'm going to reject your question, and substitute my own," he replied with a soft, playful smirk on his face. "Don't you think you'd go crazy like that if you were alone? If you didn't have anyone to listen to you and help you along the way?"
"I-I don't know," she admitted. She never thought about leaning on someone so heavily with all these weird, scary changes, that's why she'd kept it a secret. It was too dangerous to lean on someone with this information, but now she'd done it with Chuck. There wasn't any need to be alone and let this worry and strange urges swallow her emotionally and physically.
"You're just not a good planner, Boss," Chuck teased, and she scowled at him. "You need somebody else to look ahead for you, otherwise you're liable to get yourself lost in all this folklore and changes."
"So when did you become an expert on these changes?" she countered, but there was a smile on her face now as he glanced up into his face. He shrugged and nodded at his collection of movies.
"I've seen a lot of werewolf movies in my time."
"Is that all you're going off of?"
"Pretty much."
"I think I've heard enough," she spoke up with a roll of her eyes. Stephanie looked him up and down, and then playfully pushed him away. He landed on the floor with a loud thump and she couldn't help giggling at the surprised look on his face. "You deserved that."
"But so hard?" he countered as he stood to his feet. He rubbed his bruised posterior, but gave her a glance of some admiration. "That was some push. You've got a lot of strength in those small arms."
"Really?" Stephanie asked. She glanced down at her open hand, but she didn't feel that there was any great amount of strength there. The young woman glanced over to her partner, and her eyes were full of mischief. "Maybe you're just a sissy."
"And maybe that's one of the first signs of your change," he countered with a more serious expression. "Werewolves are supposed to have a prodigious amount of strength derived from their supernatural nature."
"Are there any bad side effects to becoming part of this wolf pack?" she wondered.
"Well, if reality follows the legends, and that's a big if, then you're going to get a lot hairier every time that moon is big and bright."
"I already know about that part," Stephanie pouted. "Is there anything else I knew to know?" What she was getting at was the strange sexual urges, but she was going to keep beating around that bush for as long as she could manage.
"Well, we can pretty safely assume you'll have the same feral needs as those werewolves who are after you," Chuck pointed out as he rubbed his chin. "Unless of course they're not after you for that reason."
"Speaking of those two, what are we going to do about those footprints?" she asked. She cast her nervous eyes in the direction where they'd been found. "I mean, is there anything we can do to keep them away?"
"There's always wolfs bane, but I'm a little short on that right now and I forgot to pick some up at the store," her partner teased. She cast a side glance of annoyance in his direction, and he defensively held up his hands. "Other than that, I'm not sure what else we can use. Silver's only good as a killer, not a preventative."
"What about garlic?"
"That's mostly only for vampires. Even if those two are pretty closely linked in folklore, I'm just not sure that'll work in this case."
"So what are we going to do?" she shot back. This was frustrating to no end. She couldn't stop her transformation, she couldn't figure out why those are two were following her, at least not exactly, and now they couldn't even protect themselves.
"These walls are pretty sturdy," Chuck defended his home. He moved over and knocked against one of the thick walls. "I made it that way to keep bears out. I figure it'll at least keep a werewolf out for a few minutes, long enough for us to escape." His proud smile, however, dropped from his face when he turned back and noticed her leaning over with her head down. She looked so scared and uncertain, but he couldn't give her any more comfort than he'd already tried. There was very little comfort to begin with. "Maybe that nap you were planning isn't such a bad idea," he suggested as he knelt down by her side. He leaned his head to one side and managed to catch her eye. "Or has that sugar coma not hit yet?"
"I kinda lied about that," she sheepishly admitted.
"Well, I kinda figured that, but my suggestion still stands about the nap. You really should go upstairs and try to get some rest," Chuck insisted. Then a twinkle appeared in his eyes, and he glanced up at the stairs and back to his guest. "If you don't go upstairs, I can always carry you up there."
Before Stephanie couldn't even reply, or as she had a mind to do, flee upstairs, Chuck swept her up into his arms. She clutched at his chest as he swiftly stepped around the furniture and headed toward the stairs. He picked her up with such ease she wondered if she weighted anything at all to him.
"Put me down!" she argued, but she clutched harder when he began walking up the stairs. They weren't wide stairs by any standard and, knowing the builder, she wasn't trusting of the stability of the railing.
"Not until I've made sure you're in your room and safe and sound," he insisted with a laugh in his voice.
Stephanie waited for her chance, and at the top of the stairs she kicked and wiggled with a fury. She was a little early on the start, however, and Chuck nearly ended up taking a fall backwards. When she felt gravity pulling them down that steep fall she clung onto him again and stiffened. He was able to right himself just in time to avoid a bad fall and marched forward. Her heart still beat fast even as they moved down the hall.
"Let's not try that again," he suggested with a shake in his own voice.
Stephanie didn't reply but that meant she didn't argue, and they made it to her room. Inside he promptly deposited her onto the bed and stood over her with his arms crossed. She wasn't sure what that stern look on his face meant.
"W
hat?" Stephanie asked.
"I'm trying to figure out if I need to ground you from leaving for a few hours or if I should just lock the door," he mused.
"You'd better not do either of those things," she shot back with a warning glare.
"Then try to get some rest."
"What if I get hungry?" she challenged him with a flash of spirit in her eyes. He smiled back and shrugged.
"No room service here, so you'll have to starve."
"Oh thanks..." she grumbled as she crossed her arms over her chest and glanced away. "Some host you are."
Stephanie was surprised when a gentle hand snaked its way beneath her chin, and she was forced to turn back to him. He had a soft, gentle smile on his face as he looked into her bright, wide eyes. She wondered how she'd never noticed what a beautiful color of blue they were.
"Rest for just a little while," he pleaded in a voice barely above a whisper. "And while you're doing that, I'll try to read up and remember as much as I can about your special condition." She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand. "No more arguing. I feel like we're just going around in these circles wasting our breath." His stern command made her snap her mouth shut. "Good, now get some sleep, and I'll see you in a few hours."
Chuck quietly closed the door behind himself, and Stephanie was left with the feeling that she'd just been scolded by an irate and firm parent.
"Well, what now?" the young woman asked herself.
Stephanie was a little tired after that much excitement, and thought perhaps laying her head down for a short nap would do her some good. Barely had her head touched the pillow before she was out, and the hours swiftly passed by in blissful slumber. Chuck would occasionally check in on her to make sure all was well, but she slept undisturbed until early evening. Then her hunger finally overpowered her need for rest, and she was awoken by the gnawing in her stomach. She groggily sat up and looked around at the dark room.
She heard a noise and her eyes glanced over to the balcony door. Rain pattered down against the glass and outside was a general darkness of cloudy doom. The weather report a few days back had apparently been true. There would be no more clear skies for a while.
Stephanie's heart skipped a beat in hope. Without the moon, maybe that meant there would be no more of those strange urges. She eagerly crawled off the bed and rushed over to the glass. This theory had to be tested. It was late enough and dark enough she would certainly feel some of the effects of the curse. With her heart beating fast she stepped out into the shadow of the glass door. It fell over her and swallowed her in its darkness, and yet she felt none of the effects of the beast.