Life With A Werewolf

The Nobility Part 5 - Searching

          Shifting into werewolf form is a process. One I traditionally don’t stick around for all that much unless I’m needed. It’s painful. Muscles contorting and wrenching. Bones cracking, growing, shrinking. Fur sprouting and pushing. Crash once described it to me as giving birth in multiple places on your body all at once in the span of about five or ten minutes. Although I cannot attest to the pain of bringing a new life into this world, I’m certain there is more than a couple women out there who are now crossing themselves and saying ‘thank God I don’t have to deal with that’.


          The key thing is the five or ten minutes. I’ve never timed him on it, but he claims to have a record for about four minutes forty-seven seconds from human to monster form. That night he beat that record by at least thirty seconds flat.

          “Okay big guy,” I started, and he turned and glared at me. A snarl on his muzzle that I had never seen before directed towards me. My blood ran cold for a second as I was given a sudden reminder that God or nature or whoever had gifted humanity with a far superior predator to keep us on our toes. “uh….”

          “Out with it,” he snarled.

          “Look,” I said, waving my hands in a downward motion. As if that was going to calm him down? Has that motion ever calmed anyone down? Why do we do it? Anyway, I digress. “You’re a werewolf, they’re werewolves. You honestly think running off like this will help?”

          “They want me. I give myself up they’ll let them go,” he said.

          That was his big plan? To make a sacrificial play in some sort of vain effort to save us? I had no idea I was clenching my fist until I raised it. “That’s your big idea?! To sacrifice yourself?”

          “Yes,” he snarled down at me. “And Mitch was supposed to keep you away from here until they were done! But you had to go and talk him into destroying my house!”

          “Don’t give me that,” I spat back at him, “You’re about to go out there and sacrifice your fucking life so that group of psychopaths will HOPEFULLY release our friend!”

          “They will,” he snorted. “It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

          I gritted my teeth until they hurt. I suppose it was time for one of my infamous ‘open mouth and insert foot’ statements that I’m so good at. But this one kind of turned into a bit of a speech. I’m terrible at speeches. I once in the military turned an award I was receiving into a reprimand when my squad leader at the time told me to say a few words, so I read off my grocery list and sat back down. In my defense, they never said what kind of words to say.

          But this speech, well, it came from the heart. So, despite it never going to be recognized as one of the all-time greatest speeches out there, it’s at least decent.

          “Go ahead, jackass, get yourself killed!”

          See there? Strong opener. Told you it was decent. Okay, sorry for the interruption. Here’s the rest of it.

          “That’s all you’re going to do, you frickin flea bag! I thought you werewolves were supposed to be smart or some shit. That’s your big plan? To let them kill you, possibly torture you first, in the hopes that they’ll maybe release our friends?! You know in the list of all time dumbest plays, that’s number one! You may not understand this, but these assholes want us all dead! Because we committed the crime of loving you! That’s right, I said it. We love you, you stupid, ungrateful, moronic, walking, growling, childhood nightmare! All of us do! Or did that whole ‘stand and fight’ thing we did not get that through your thick skull! You got fur growing inward as well when you shift, because that is just pure asinine! You’re our big brother! The father we never had! The strong, cool uncle! You’re the one who helped all of us heal some part of ourselves! You think we’re going to turn tail and run now, then you better check your legs and see if maybe you got neutered on your last checkup you…”

          A werewolf’s roar can stop a lot of things. It certainly stopped that speech. After receiving a full volume saliva shower (thanks Crash), I found myself curled up on the floor for a moment, with him standing over me, flexing his claws as if he was ready to do damage to someone. And I was the only one around. “Damn it, Jason! I love you too, but do you not think I have a plan? It’s my job as the alpha of this little pack to protect you all!”

          He huffed for a moment longer, then stepped through the door, slamming it behind himself. I was still huddled on the porch, shaking a bit, trying to force myself into a standing position. “Uh, you okay dude?” Sean asked after a moment. He patted me on the shoulder and it took everything I had in me to not jump.

          I swallowed. “I think I saw his lunch,” I muttered.

          “You should know better than to lay into a werewolf, man,” he said. Then after a moment, he muttered “I really wish Kris and Zack was here.”

          I looked him in the face, and patted him on the shoulder. That turned into a quick hug. Hey, we’re not a hugging group, but when your loved one who’s as close to you as a spouse disappears and might have been kidnapped and you might never see again, you get a hug. I don’t know of anyone who wouldn’t give a hug in that instance.

          “I know,” he said, “I’m like, usually the chill, go with the flow guy. But this is bullshit. Kris never hurt anyone. Why him? Why did it have to be him?”

          A lot of people would be incline to blame me in that position. It’s understandable, after all, I started the blog that kind of started this mess. I felt more than a little bit of guilt for The Nobility showing up. However, Sean for his credit never once through that part of things blamed me for anything. He took it as a sort of “why can’t we all just get along” type of vibe. Go with the flow, I suppose. I swear they’ll put it on his tombstone one day.

          What will be mine? “Pepperoni and Cheese”. But that’s because I’m a sucker for an old joke.

          “We got two people missing. A pissed off werewolf. And now, we’re standing here alone with just my pistol to keep us safe,” I grumbled.

          “We got to find him,” Sean said, looking down.

          “What,” I asked.

          “We got to find him,” he said again louder. “We got to get Kris back! Can’t you like, text them or something like you did last time?”

          I sighed and leaned against the fridge. “Sean, that would only work once. Next time I do that, if they even bother to come back here, it will be to blow the house up, or something. They won’t make the mistake of coming in twice.”

          “We could always follow them back,” he muttered.

          “What,” I asked.

          “We, I dunno, call them up or somethin, then follow them back to wherever it is they go after they give up and don’t find us,” he said.

          I snagged a beer from the fridge and handed it to Sean. “I know you miss him,” I said with as comforting of a smile as I could muster, “and I know you want your boyfriend back. I understand. If it was my lover, I’d want them back safe and sound too! But,”

          “Don’t patronize me,” Sean growled. “It’s a good plan.”

          “Sean! This is me you’re talking to. The king of bad plans. And even I’m telling you, that’s bad! IF they were regular humans, I’d be all for it. But Sean, those are werewolves. WEREWOLVES.” I tapped his skull. “Heightened senses, remember? Can hear a billion times better, see a billion times better, especially at night, not to mention the sense of smell. They’d see us before we even made it ten feet. Besides, that sort of tailing takes a team of people highly trained communicating constantly to pull off.”

          He sighed. “Or a werewolf,” he muttered.

          I nodded and swallowed. “Yeah, and ours disappeared.”

          He stood up, a grim look of determination on his face. “I’m going to do it, dude,” Sean muttered, then left the room. I scratched my head in confusion at his words. A few moments later, he returned, holding a piece of paper in his hand. “Crash told us,” Sean said, “if anything bad happened to him, and like, he doesn’t return or whatever to call this number. And dude, I think this situation counts.”

          I took the number from him and dialed it. After a few deep breaths, I got the hesitant “hello?” someone gives when they get a number they don’t recognize and expect at any moment to be told that their car’s warranty is about to expire and the only way to prevent themselves from dying in a horrible ball of fire is to buy an extended one right now.

          “Dude, just tell him,” Sean started, but I waved a hand at him to hush.

          “Look, I don’t know who you are, but Crash just ran off, our roommates are missing, and apparently I’m told we need to call you for help,” I said.

          There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “It’s a five-hour drive. We can be there in three.” There was a crash heard in the background like something had just landed on something else and knocked it off a table. “Better make that four.”