Short Stories and poems

Big Meal Day Plans

On the Wolfes’ Big Meal Day, someone has plans for an Escape.

August 8th was what the calendar said. Big Meal Day. 2 humans would be dead by midnight. Meals for their Werewolf owners, Robert and Julia Wolfe. One more would follow after them.

John spat as he looked at the calendar, as he finished trimming his facial hair. Male livestock were encouraged to be clean-shaven, with hair barely an inch long. Female livestock didn’t have their hair go past their ears. This was to make them easier to digest, and not cause intestinal issues with long hair. However, despite being the Herd Leader, Protector, and a high ranked Breeder, John was a Rebel, of sorts. Thus, he grew a beard. It was only a few inches long, and was groomed to be neat, but it was a symbol of his defiance.

He looked at a mirror. His hair had been long once. Old herd marks were visible. Those who knew Feral Script would read them, and know that he wasn’t one to be trifled with. That was the case, once. Back when he was free, there was none that could stand against him. Time had changed him.

Today was Big Meal Day. 2 more of his herd would be dead. One more would die soon after.

He then started to cough. He grabbed a wash cloth, and hacked into it. He moved it away when he was done. There was blood on it. He turned the faucet on, the water washing the blood out. They were getting worse, and worse. He pulled out the envelope he’d taken from the mail, before he’d given the rest to Robert. He opened it, pulled the document out, and went through it. He frowned, and put it back into the envelope. His fate was sealed. He would soon die. The question was if it would be slow and painful, only to be forgotten, or would it be much sooner, in a blaze of glory, and to never be forgotten?

“I want to be remembered,” he said to himself. “I don’t want anyone to forget me. Least of all, Robert – that mutt will remember me for the rest of his days!”

He grabbed his walking club, and stepped out of his bathroom, into his living quarters – bed, table, chair, clothes, and his few personal belongings were all in it. It wouldn’t take much to clear it out. It didn’t take much to clear any personal belongings out.

He walked over to a set of drawers, and looked at the food dispenser, or rather, the camera at the bottom of it. It wasn’t working. He opened the drawer, took out a bottle, which had several large capsules, and placed it in a pocket. He then got out another bottle, one that had his pain pills. He took one out, got a glass, filled it with water, put the pill in his mouth, and swallowed it with some water. He then opened his door, and entered the general hall of the Livestock barn.

He watched as the one called Sam 5691, along with the one called Mary 3095, was talking to others – saying their Good-Byes. They’d just come out of the area where the cubs tended to stay – they each had some, seven for Sam, six for Mary, and two were both of theirs. They’d been Asked a week ago by Robert and Julia, and had said yes. During that week, they’d been eating special food that kept their digestive tracts relatively clear – werewolves didn’t like eating shit after all. They’d also been filling out a journal – likes, dislikes, thoughts, how they wanted to be remembered – so that the Wolfes knew what these two Livestock humans had thought of their Masters. Officially, the journals were for the Wolfes’ records. Unofficially, they were trophies, much like the teeth John had once collected – mementos of the Wolfes’ kills.

Once they got big enough to do so, Werewolves needed to have at least one Big Meal each month – a meal that had around 150 to 200 pounds of meat, including bones and organs. There were plenty of animals that fitted that range – pig, goat, sheep, cattle, deer – which was useful if one didn’t want to kill a lot of chickens for that. The problem – in so far as that was concerned, at least for John’s beliefs – was that Humans were in that 150-200 pound category. For centuries, if not millennium, Werewolves and Vampires saw Humans as sources of meat, and blood.

John watched as Sam followed a mare into her room, and Mary followed a buck into theirs – Sam was trying to father a few more naturally bred offspring, while Mary was getting some Additional Seasoning. Over the next several hours, they’d be having sex – a way to say Good-Bye to a member of the herd. He wanted to stop the killing, but every time he tried to plead the issue, Robert would say, “That’s the way things are.” The Wolfes raised humans to be sold as meat, either to a restaurant, a grocery store, occasionally a butcher shop, or even to a private home. After that, they’d be eaten – killed, just for a meal.

John threw the barn door open, causing a few to look at him, before they turned back towards their own things – reading, eating a snack, trying to ask another if they wanted to have sex – the various things Livestock did to fill the hours of the day, every day, until, for them, it was time for them to die. For the last 15 years, he’d watched them grow up, only to die. Tonight would be the last time that this would happen.

John hobbled up to the tree on top of the hill. Robert was already sitting under it. One werewolf couldn’t take on the whole herd, and two couldn’t either. Any place else, Robert and Julia’s heads would be trophies, along with their hands, feet, tails, and skin. The Problem – Taming! Starting from birth, the Livestock was Conditioned to see the Wolfes as Friends, Family, Protectors, who would never harm them, until it was time for them to be a Meal! Things that could be used as a weapon, knives, hatchets, hammers, pickaxes, and other such things could be strewn around, and none would pick them up, to use them upon the Wolfes. It wasn’t that they lacked the Strength, or Will, to use them – they could easily pick the hammer up to pound nails into a plank, the hatchet to split bad planks into things like kindling, or use the knives to cut meat – but the very idea of using them to cause harm to a Wolfe would cause the affected human to shake uncontrollably. Even Ferals, like himself, who had been through the Wolfes’ Taming process, had a hard time contemplating the idea of using something, like a walking-club, to bash the Wolfes’ heads in.

He glared at Robert. Part of him wanted to beat the life out of the werewolf, for the cruel things he’d done. The Feral he’d once been probably would have killed him, and turned him into a Trophy set, if not for the bear. He also knew what would happen if he did kill Robert and Julia – death for himself, certainly, but the rest of the herd – it would be a fate worse than death, for Marcus Fang would end up buying them, braindeading them, and use them to produce blood.

Marcus Fang – the thought of that vampire caused John’s hands to tighten, his nails digging into worn groves in the walking-club. He’d caused the deaths of his mother, by braindeading her, and his father, who had died in the attempt to save both him, and her, when Marcus’s goons had caught them. John wanted that bloodsucker dead.

“You look like you want to kill someone,” said Robert.

“Yes, you,” said John.

Robert chuckled. “Maybe, but you won’t do it, because you can’t.”

“Sam and Mary – must you eat them?” John asked.

“We’ve been through this,” said Robert. “Time and time again, we’ve discussed this. The answer, simply, is yes. If Julia and I don’t, someone else will.”

“There’s other animals that you can eat, animals that don’t take two decades to mature, and get to that stage where not only are they the weight you want, but they’ve also gotten to the point that they’ve been able to reproduce more often, and thus keep giving you what you need,” said John. “Cattle, pigs, goats, sheep, deer – that’s just some of the more common animals. Bone Carriers don’t eat humans as often as you do, and they still thrive, even if they’ve never eaten human flesh.”

“Bone Carriers are the way they are because of their beliefs,” said Robert. “I am the way I am, because that’s the way things are.”

“Guess you’ll have to figure out another way, once the herd is free,” John said, as he sat down.

“You’ve been on my case about my lifestyle even more ever since you and Billy got back from that museum trip,” said Robert. “Is something the matter with you?”

“You’re the one who took me to the vet,” said John. “Hasn’t he sent you his report from those tests?”

“No,” said Robert.

John sighed. “Just treat Sam and Mary with respect,” he said. “Don’t molest them or anything like that.”

“You know that we don’t do that sort of stuff, unless they want us to give them some final pleasure,” said Robert. “Is there something that you want to talk about?”

“I’m older than my father was, when he died,” said John.

“You’ve told me about him,” said Robert. “Died saving you.”

“That being said, I’m the same age his father was, when he died,” said John. “According to my father, he died saving him.”

“What happened to him?” Robert asked.

“Do you know of a vampire named Samuel Fang?” John asked.

He noted how wide Robert’s eyes got.

“That’s Marcus’s uncle,” the werewolf said. “He was killed over fifty years ago by one of his meat livestock, one that had snapped, had grabbed a hammer and a machete and killed not only Samuel, but at least a dozen farmhands.” He looked over at John. “That was Your Grandsire!”

“According to father, grandfather was a 10thgen, and he’d mated with Another 10thgen, making him an 11thgen,” said John. “Lucky Eleven, I believe is the term. He was supposed to be Declared Free! Samuel didn’t do that – branded him on the eyelid, instead of adopting him into the family to be a servant or whatever it is werewolves and vampires tend to do to such Free humans. Grandfather Knew that it wasn’t Right, but what does Livestock know about Rights?” John looked away. “Then, he took to coughing, and his health got worse. However, he wanted his son Free. So, he stole some tools, got his son, and got him over the fence, just as Samuel and the farmhands came. My grandfather told my father to run. So, my father ran, and as he did, he heard this bellow, a bellow that I’d heard when my father died to save me, after he told me to run.”

“Obviously, this was before lines were registered with the Livestock genetic database,” said Robert. “I guess he hadn’t had too many offspring, or you’d of been pinged by someone, who might have had First Dibs, like Marcus.”

“I’d of killed him then,” said John. “I’ll still kill him, somehow.” He started coughing. He grabbed a handkerchief, and coughed into it.

“That is one persistent cough,” said Robert. “Then there’s your scent – it’s had me worried.”

John chuckled, as he tucked the handkerchief away. “I’m sure you’ll find out, friend,” he said. “At least you don’t get some sort of sexual satisfaction out of eating humans. I remember one pair of poachers – husband and wife couple actually. I was eighteen. Now, I’d seen hunters before – they usually didn’t bother the herd. They’d even show their tags, asking if there was any troublesome humans that would be better off gone. But, these two – something about them rubbed me the wrong way.”

“What was it?” Robert asked.

“Multiple things, the least of which was how much pleasure they got from the humans struggling inside of them as they tried to escape,” said John. “Going by the way that they were talking, seems that the humans had been knocked out, stripped, restrained, placed over a fire to roast for a bit, before finally being swallowed while still alive, and wriggling. The pair actually got off on what had happened, while talking about it. Of course, by that point, the humans were already dead anyways. I was just going to leave, get the rest of the herd, and see about driving them off, when I saw something that sent chills down my spine – a tied-up cub, maybe 10 years old, being carried over their shoulders. Kid had herd marks on him, those of a herd that the Wranglers had the occasional territory dispute with. Then, they started talking about the cub, and what they planned just angered me.” He looked at Robert. “We have Rules, Robert, especially where kids are concerned. They were going to put the cub in a stew pot for breakfast. Well, we got Rules about such things, and those Rules were quite clear – those two had to die, no matter what. Those who intentionally harm kids must die.”

“Well, I don’t harm children,” said Robert.

“There’s all kinds of ways to harm someone beyond just physically hurting them,” said John. “That being said, they might have had a chance of surviving, with broken bones, stabbed in fleshier areas that were non-lethal, so long as I got the cub. But, they made a big mistake – they went to the bathroom, after setting the kid down of course.”

“How was that a mistake?” Robert asked. “Everyone needs to take a shit or piss at some point.”

“True, but it was what they did while doing it,” said John. “After they shitted the bones out, they then pissed on them. I don’t mean that they pissed on the bones simply because they were also shitting at the same time, or because they moved to a more comfortable spot – they, intentionally, aimed themselves so that their piss would enter the eye sockets of the skulls!” He looked at Robert. “To do something like that is to deny them chance the chance to peacefully enter the Afterlife! You only do that to someone you want to curse for all of eternity! Either spit or piss on them, on purpose! The only way to undo it is to show respect to the remains, by burying them, and pouring Strong Juice over them, or whatever alcoholic beverage you got.”

“You’ve mentioned something like that before,” said Robert. “Keeps away Vendalg. Heck, you insist upon me pouring some of my good liquor over the garden when my family uses our homemade, or store-bought, human fertilizer, after allowing me to mix it with like four parts water of course.” He looked at John. “So, why didn’t they notice you?”

“Probably because I had some deer urine on my feet, along with mud from a stagnant pond, and what I was wearing could pass as part of the scenery,” said John. “I was lying within fifteen paces of them, and they hadn’t noticed the whole time; not even when they did their business by the trees next to me. Whatever else I felt about certain members of the other herd, they didn’t deserve that fate. So, when they went back to the trail, to pick the kid back up, I stood up, catching them off-guard. I took out a small bottle of Strong Juice that I had, just in case I needed to disinfect a wound, and poured it over the skulls, while watching them. I asked them if they had tags. They laughed, and said that they didn’t. I told them to untie the kid, and let them go. Those two laughed again, and refused. I told them to let the kid go, or I’d kill them. They laughed, yet again, and said that I’d merely be added to the pot to boil. Well, I spat, and told them that they were welcome to try it.”

“What did they do?” Robert asked.

“Well, they were dumb enough to not bring any firearms or weapons, and decided to use teeth and claws,” said John. “I had, among other things, a spear and a machete that was modified to be used for thrusting as well as chopping. They rushed me. I chopped the male’s hands off, thrust my spear into the female’s heart, then stabbed the male in the throat, all but decapitated him, before doing similar damage to the female as I severed the male’s neck, as the swing had enough momentum to allow me to do that. It was too much for their healing capabilities, especially since I decided to finish the decapitation, to make sure that they were dead. They were the first werewolves I ever killed.”

“What happened after that?” Robert asked.

“Well, I cut the cub loose, took him to my herd for safety, and told them what had happened,” said John. “Bella’s father sent a runner to the cub’s herd. Their herd leader came, along with a few others – the group’s best warriors/hunters. Turned out, the cub was their nephew, and the two eaten had been that herd leader’s younger brother and said brother’s mate. Cub told them what had happened, and what I’d done. This buck had about two dozen teeth from various vampires and werewolves, more than a few human ones, plenty of bear and wolf and greater beast teeth, not to mention those from deer, cattle, pig, and the like. His deeds were tattooed all over him. I had a few at the time – that I’d saved Bella from a rapist, my original Smith herd marking, the Wrangler herd marking, about how I was a decent hunter, and a few other things. This man though – if you ever saw him, and you’d disrespected him, or his family, you’d know that you were going to be in for a world of hurt – I got chills looking at him.” He then tapped the left side of his face. There was a mark that looked like a human standing over two wolves, a smaller human behind them. The wolves lacked their heads. “This was my reward for saving his nephew – anyone trying to harm those I was willing to protect knew that they risked death. The teeth of those two were then added to my necklace, after removing them from the heads that I’d brought along.”

“So, what happened to the bodies?” Robert asked.

“We went back to them, bringing the heads with us,” said John. “The other herd’s leader had his get the remains of their herd members. We then went through the belongings of the werewolves. The other herd’s leader found a cellphone on one of the bodies. I saw him punch in a number. Mind you, he didn’t just press a button for redial; this was a deliberate punching of numbers. Then, he held the phone to his ear. I heard a voice on the other end. He then said, ‘I got two that are on your list. Come get them.’ Two hours later, this vampire came, a female. She looked at the bodies, and then looked at him. ‘Were they poaching?’ she asked. ‘They were,’ he said. ‘They got no tags, but still ate my brother, his mate, and took my nephew. I got my revenge though.’ She then looked over all of us, those eyes staring right into ours. I thought for sure that she could sniff the fresh blood on my necklace. She then looked at him. ‘Very well,’ she said, as she put the bodies into the back of a jeep. ‘See you around.’ That was my first encounter with a Garlic and Silver agent.”

“I’m surprised that they didn’t investigate it further,” said Robert. “Or, of course, try to take him in.”

“I asked him about that,” said John. “He looked at me, and said, ‘We have an understanding.’ Later on, when I saved Rex, I figured out how useful it would be to have a GaS Agent owing me. Given that I’d just killed two dozen vampires and werewolves, he realized rather quickly that he could be just another dead werewolf. Instead, he got the credit for taking down a highly dangerous group of murderous poachers.”

“I’ve heard that story,” said Robert. “So, what’s bothering you, besides the usual?”

“Heard that I had a daughter,” said John.

“Ultrasound sound indicates that Maria 1492’s child is male,” said Robert. “Or are we thinking about a different mate?”

John grinned. “I got word that Bella had a daughter.” He frowned. “She’d be fourteen by now, and has never met me. Never known me. Never heard my voice. Never even seen me.”

Robert sighed. “There are rules, John. I couldn’t just let you go.”

“So you like to claim,” said John.

“You could of run,” said Robert. “Or, rather, tried to.”

“I made a promise to Thomas, Angus, and Jessie, and every single livestock, fifteen years ago,” said John. “If I couldn’t save them, I’d at least save their offspring, or at least their line at any rate.”

Robert chuckled. “Maybe I’ll have you for the next Big Meal,” he said. “You’ve caused me a lot of trouble.”

John grinned. “Might be the right thing,” he said. “But, if you do that, then you’ll never learn how I plan to free the herd. The next Feral might decide to just chop your head off. My plan – you’ll just be humiliated. Then, there are the other details, like whom to blame for it.”

“Of course,” said Robert. “So, bullshit aside, when are you planning on doing it? I know it’s going to be soon. You’ve been tattooing many during the last couple of months. Even Sam and Mary have tattoos.”

“I used the stuff you use for livestock, so it’s safe regardless,” said John. “Teaching them how to hunt and fight has been a problem. I had to teach them softer skills – fishing, foraging, medicine, distillation, basket weaving, gardening, and other such things. If I can’t teach them to use a weapon to kill something, or someone, I could teach them skills that are just as valuable, if not more so. Any Feral can learn how to use a spear to hunt or fight, but not many are going to take the time to learn how to distil Strong Juice, especially different flavors of it. Any herd that finds someone in that barn will know that they have a skill that they need, or at least tell them to go to another herd that needs their skill.”

“So, when are you going to do it?” Robert asked.

John chuckled. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll be among the last to know.”

That was when a songbird began to thrill rather lively.

“A little later than usual to sing that sort of song,” said Robert.

“Used to be able to do a duet with them once,” said John. “Let’s see if the pipes still got it.” He was about to respond, when the cough took over. He placed the cloth over his mouth.

“Maybe I need to get you some medicine,” said Robert.

John waved him off. “I’ll be fine.” He then gave a response to the songbird.

The songbird sang, as did he, until he stopped, to cough again.

“More than a bit rough, if I say so,” said Robert. “Must be a bit desperate, to settle for you.”

“I’d say so,” said John.

Robert sighed. “What’s the worst behavior you’ve ever seen out of a vampire or werewolf, beyond the intentionally pissing on a skull, or trying to harm a cub?”

John chuckled. “Some seem to think that using excessive swearing makes them tougher,” he said. “I remember one British bitch, and a couple of her friends. Now, I’d encountered a few British tourists and the like – some folks get lost, and need routed out of the woods. They were usually rather civil, and even offered me tea – made sure that they had some first before I had any out of the same pot of course. This group though, the one claimed to be some sort of Professor, and the amount of swearing she and her friends did – I’m surprised that no one, even fellow werewolves and vampires, had punched their teeth out.”

“What happened between you and them?” Robert asked.

“Oh, they tried to lure my son in with a T-bone steak, one that was more bone than meat, as if he was some little kitten or puppy, with a bunch of baby talk,” said John. “Luckily for them, they weren’t poaching, but they were acting like he was some cute little thing.”

“Wait, your son?” Robert asked.

“He was about five years old, and we were gathering berries and the like at the time, and unlike myself, Tobias wasn’t good at hiding at the time,” said John. “Still, they weren’t really bothering us, but they tried to lure him in. I don’t know what they were going to do, but I scared them when I snuck around, sat at their fire, and said, ‘Blessed tea,’ as I poured myself a cup. Then, I added some sugar, as Tobias came over. I gave him a cup, warned him that it was hot, and thus needed to cool. Those three looked at me, and I looked at them. They could see my necklace, with all the teeth on it, to say nothing about all of the knives I had. There’s a saying about how you should never get between a mother bear and her cub. Same thing applies to humans. That was when Bella walked out behind them, walked around, and accepted a cup of tea I had lifted up. She had a spear on her, and a lot of knives. She didn’t have as much teeth as I did, but she was showing what she had.”

“What happened?” Robert asked.

“Well, while I’m sure that there are humans over in Great Britain that would just crawl down her throat the moment she opened her jaws, she found out that I’m not the sort that is just going to do that,” said John. “She wasn’t happy, and seemed more than a little annoyed at this, but when there’s the possibility that the parents of the cub you want might decide to turn you into a trophy set, you remember your manners. Still, she got to keep her teeth – I didn’t want for Tobias to be exposed to excessive violence at that tender age. Of course, I did, politely, tell her that she ought to tone down the swearing when children were nearby, and listening. After all, they might pick up on the habit of speaking in such a rude and uncouth manner.”

“So, excessive swearing is something you don’t like,” Robert said, with a chuckle.

“When you claim to be a teacher, it pays to set an example for your perspective student,” said John. “Trust me on that one. Still, it wasn’t the worst.”

“So, what is the worst aspect you’ve seen?” Robert asked.

“Excessive arrogance, especially with vampires and werewolves that think that they are superior to humans,” said John. “Those ones were the most fun to deal with. One moment, they are bragging about how superior their specie is compared to mine, and the next, they are begging me to spare them.”

“What did you do to them?” Robert asked.

“It would depend of if they were after my herd or not, and if they were indeed a danger, or if I actually wanted them dead,” said John. “Most though, I simply removed a tooth from their mouth. Humiliation like that tended to humble many. Some I’d even see again – all I’d have to do was point at the tooth I’d yanked, and they’d tell whomever that they were with that it would be a bad idea to go after me. Nothing quite like making them eat crow, as it were.”

“Have you ever eaten crow?” Robert asked.

“Tastes like chicken to me,” said John. “Add a little hot sauce, and it’s pretty good.”

Robert chuckled at this. “Something to think on.” He sighed. “Part of me wants to set you Free, same with all of the other humans, but I can’t just spit on a hundred and fifty year plus legacy. My family has bred and raised some of the best tasting humans ever known. The monetary value of the genetic material we have stored, by its own self, is worth a fortune.”

“A nature reserve might be a good idea,” said John. “A place where feral herds could come, relax, not end up being hunted. It could be a place where feral humans, vampires, and werewolves, could safely interact with one another. In fact, I know what you could do with your stored generic material; there’s always that female, whose special mate was killed, and doesn’t want another, yet wants to have a child. Likewise, there’s also males, who, on occasion, suffer an injury that prevents them from reproducing, yet want a child, but can’t locate someone suitable for the deed. Sometimes females can’t get pregnant, but you werewolves and vampires have the medical technology to help use infertile females as a way to carry a child that the mother can’t carry. You use the genetic material you have, impregnate the female, or give them a fertilized egg, giving them a child. Might prove beneficial in the long run – improving the quality of the Feral herds’ meat value. Also, it would explain why you’d get First Dibs if a child of an Escapee got caught – you had used your personal stash of genetic material to get the dame of the captured feral pregnant, because they heard about how you’d help them have children.”

“You’ve thought this out pretty well,” said Robert. “What if your escape plan fails?”

“I got three or four plans running, even as we speak,” said John. “If one fails, there’s another. I might just incorporate a bunch of them together as things get closer.”

“Useful to know,” said Robert. He pulled out his smartphone. “Cameras are still messed up.”

“Could be sabotage,” said John. “Marcus might be trying another of his preemptive rustling attempts.”

“He’s about due for an attempt,” said Robert. He tapped his phone a few more times. “Hmm, I got an interesting story from Great Britain, by the way. Some breeder is claiming that they, and their family, have cracked the code on how to make humans 100% willing to want to be eaten or drained.”

John snorted. “I have to call bullshit on that. You’re good at the Mental Manipulation aspect, but even Sam and Mary basically have a knife at their throats, or, rather, knives at the throats of those that they care about,” he said. “They are willing to die to try to save two others. There’s only a few reasons that I know of for a human being so damn willing to die – one being that they are trying to save the lives of others. A second, they’re already dying anyways, so maybe, their death might cause some good, especially if it means saving the lives of others.”

“Is there a third?” Robert asked.

John nodded. “Along with at least one more reason.”

“I’m listening,” said John. “What’s your theory?”

“They suffer from some form of depression,” said John. “You grow up, watching everyone you love get killed, in one manner or another, and at a certain point, you just, basically, lose the will to live.”

“Have you ever felt like that?” Robert asked.

John nodded. “After my parents were killed,” he said. “I just wanted to die. In that moment, John Smith of the Smith herd died. I didn’t want to go back to them, to tell them what happened. Then, I saw Marcus; saw how he reacted to what my father had done, how he only complained about the loss of money. He didn’t even care about the fact that my father had killed at least thirty of his goons. All he cared about was his money, and about how he couldn’t even sell the over-burnt human flesh on the black market. Well, in that moment, I promised that I’d do everything to bring him down, even if it cost me my life. Of course, he got away before I could do anything. Then, I found the Wrangler herd, and a new reason to live.”

“What’s the other reason as to why these humans might be so willing to die?” Robert asked.

At this, John gave a grin, one that sent a chill down Robert’s spine.

“They plan to kill whomever it is that ate them,” he said. “Ingest some sort of toxin that, after the human dies, is absorbed by the werewolf, or vampire. Something like that telly-type stuff that smells like garlic – if the human is known to have a habit of eating garlic cloves, a werewolf might not question them about the additional seasoning, especially if they happen to like having garlic-flavored meat.”

“Might be a little tricky to find that stuff,” said Robert. “Tellurium isn’t that common. Also, vampires wouldn’t drink garlic-flavored blood anyways.”

“In that case, what if they didn’t know that the human was eating garlic, and mistook it for bad odor, or some such thing?” John asked, with a grin. “Oh, there’s plenty of ways to kill vampires and werewolves – garlic and silver are just some of the easiest means of doing it, such as making blades with copper and silver, and a bit of tin, which is rather easy to do. Slice a garlic bulb or two before attempting the kill, and even a vampire might go down to a primitive blade.”

“But it might be hard for you to find the means to make a silvered blade,” said Robert.

“True, but that’s where one locates a silver ring that was lost, among other small pieces of jewelry, and then, on Big Meal Day, ingests them,” John said, with a chuckle. “Silver on the outside might not kill you, but silver on the inside of you will, at the very least, weaken you. Livestock, like recently captured ferals, that aren’t under your sort of Control, might then take advantage, and finish the job.”

“Would you really try such a thing?” Robert asked.

“I plan to ruin you, not kill you,” said John. He looked towards the fence. “Saw that someone decided to put up a Homo familiaris exhibit at the museum. Try to claim that Domesticated humans are separate from Feral ones. I think that whoever writes that shit has never actually studied a Feral human, or a Domesticated one, beyond how good they taste. Doubt that they ever went into the woods and hunted a Feral human or raised a Domesticated one in their own home. Of course, if they did, the feral human was in a cage hunt, and the domesticated one was trained by someone else. The one that writes that crap doesn’t understand humans. Seriously – the one book thinks that humans fight over mates! The only one I every fought against, where Bella was concerned, was against the one that wanted to rape her! Becoming her mate never crossed my mind before that fight – I just simply wanted to befriend her, so that, maybe, I could become part of the herd. Funny what it lead to though.”

“So, tell me, between a Domesticated human, and a Feral, which one is more dangerous?” Robert asked.

“I think that Domesticated ones are,” said John. “A Feral might kill a werewolf or vampire for self-defense, and the protection of those they care about. They might even kill to avenge a loved one. But, a Domesticated one…. I’ve heard stories about Escapees that hated vampires and werewolves to such an extent, even Ferals were wary about interacting with them, as they’d just kill vampires and werewolves on sight, not even to give the individual werewolf or vampire a chance to simply say that they were lost, or were a Tooth Wearer or Bone Carrier that meant them no threat. How many humans have you caused the deaths of over the years, Robert? I’d say about three hundred have, at the very least, died in your stomach – can you place their names with their faces? I’ve killed over fifty vampires and werewolves, and I remember each of them, along with at least a dozen humans that I was forced to kill in order to stay alive. If you were any other werewolf, and if we didn’t have the history that we have, along with a common enemy, I would have killed you years ago.”

“You like pissing people off, you know that, right?” Robert asked.

John chuckled. “I’m good at making people think,” he said. “Maybe you’ll learn that you don’t need to eat humans. I’d like to live to see that.” He began to cough again

Robert carefully looked at the human. “John, besides your plan for escape, what else are you keeping from me?”

John sighed. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He then stood up. “I’m going to go check the fences. Maybe I’ll try singing to that bird. After that, I’ll get Millie’s meal ready, and see about feeding her.”

“You know where the tranquilizer and sheers are,” said Robert.

“After that, I’m going to see Sam and Mary, so that I can say ‘Good-bye’ to them.”

“Understood,” said Robert.



John was soon at the opposite side of the farm. He was looking down at the bottom rows of the outer, and barbed, fence. Part of it had been cut, and then covered over with dirt and mud. All it would take was a few more cuts, and someone could sneak in. He looked at the middle, and electrified, fence – still intact, as was the inner, and smooth, fence. He also noticed what looked to be some sort of scuff marks, where some sort of struggle could have occurred.

“Well, either someone wants to assist with an escape attempt, or they are trying to rustle the herd,” John said, as he looked around, before staring at a low shrub. “Which is it?”

At this, a middle-aged woman stepped out from behind a tree, not too far from the shrub. “It’s me.”

A smile came to John’s lips. “Bella.”

“I finally found you,” she said, as she came up to the fence. “I’m here to take you home.”

John frowned. “I would love to go home, but, I’m afraid, you are too late to save me.”

“What’s wrong?” Bella asked.

John sighed. “I got cancer – inoperable, and it will kill me, within six months.”

“I can still free you, and we can enjoy what time we got left together,” said Bella.

“I’d love that, more than anything, but one,” said John. “Behind me are five thousand livestock humans, whom I’ve been teaching specific survival skills to – medicine, distillation, basket weaving, and a bunch of other essential skills. Couldn’t really teach them how to fight or hunt, so I taught them the softer stuff that’s just as valuable, if not more so, so that they wouldn’t have too much of an issue being welcomed into a herd.”

“What about you?” Bella asked.

“I’ll be dead by this time tomorrow,” said John. “I’m going to be a breakfast that the mutt will never forget.”

“Why is that?” Bella asked. “We could just kill him, and any of the others.”

“We have an understanding,” said John. “If the herd escapes, Robert gets to eat me. Besides, there’s someone else that needs to suffer far more than them.” He looked at the tooth and fang necklace that Bella had, and noted the fresh fangs on it. “So, what happened here?”

“A mutt and a bloodsucker were trying to break in, to steal the herd for a Marcus Fang,” said Bella. “Then, they saw me, and thought that I’d be a bonus.” A chuckle escaped her throat. “I wasn’t.”

John raised an eyebrow. “I find it hard to believe that you’d let yourself get spotted, without a good reason.”

Bella looked towards another tree. “I had some help.”

From behind another tree came a young man.

John grinned, as he placed the familiar features. “Tobias. You’ve grown into a man.”

The young man nodded. “We’re here to rescue you, father.”

“As I’ve told your mother, it’s too late to save me,” said John. “But, you can save most of the others, five thousand, not including cubs, a number of them being your siblings.”

“What do you mean?” Bella asked.

“I’m Prime Grade,” said John. “Robert couldn’t just have me just stuff my face with food. I had to…” He trailed off. “It was the only way to save them, or, at least, save their lines, for a good number of them.”

“Explain,” said Bella.

“Most of the females I impregnated were of the D-Grade range,” said John. “The Wolfes don’t save the genetic material of livestock of that low a grade. Thus, to save their lines…..” John sighed. “If I couldn’t save their lives, I’d save their lines – I promised someone that. I encouraged the higher grade bucks to breed with the lower grade mares, as well as the other way around, so that the lines of the lower grades could survive until I could free them. They were friends, ones that I cared for, not much more, nothing like what we had.”

“You did it to make sure that they had children to carry on the family line?” Bella asked.

John nodded. “I’ve only loved you – my every dream had you in them.”

Bella smiled. “I’ve only ever loved you,” she said. “No one could make me feel the way that I did about you.”

John smiled, as he held the smooth fence wire, as Bella held a smooth section on her side.

“Is the middle section of fence electrified?” Bella asked.

John nodded. “I know how to get the herd to escape – out the front gate. We can do it tonight, after the Wolfes have their Big Meal.”

“Why not now?” Tobias asked.

“After the Big Meal, the Wolfes will be slow, and so should Millie,” said John. “More importantly, they’ll be inclined to nap, and with what I’ll be adding, they’ll be sleeping a little heavier, and shouldn’t wake up during the escape.”

“What’s the Big Meal?” Bella asked, warily.

John sighed. “I’m about to feed the dog hers – a sheep,” he said. “As for the Wolfes, it will be two of the herd.”

“What?!” Tobias exclaimed. “We ought to be rescuing them, if that’s your plan, not feed them to a werewolf!”

“Tobias, every conflict has its casualties,” said John, as he looked at his son. “The plan is to make it look like someone drugged the Wolfes, and then stole the herd. They’ve already been Asked to be the Meals – for them to change their mind, right now, would be highly suspicious.”

“How are you going to drug the Wolfes?” Bella asked.

“Heavy duty sleeping pill,” said John. “Too strong for a human to have safely, but it should knock the Wolfes out during the escape attempt. When the law investigates tomorrow, they’ll be looked at as if they were victims, and not accomplices.”

“So, they are allowing this escape to occur?” Bella asked.

John nodded. “To a certain extent,” he said. “It will be one hell of a case of insurance fraud, one that’s easily worth over ten billion dollars.”

“Any other questions?” Tobias asked.

“Two,” said John. “First – how many did you manage to bring together for this? The Livestock will need to be escorted to safety.”

“We managed to get together a thousand others, with more close by,” said Bella. “What’s the second question?”

“Where’s my daughter?” John asked.

“Sally, come out,” said Bella.

A teenage girl, maybe fourteen years of age, rose up out of the bush.

John smiled. “You need to work on your hiding abilities – I noticed you,” he said. “Still, it’s good to see you.”

Sally walked up. “Are you my father?”

John chuckled. “I see enough of my mother’s features in you to know that you are indeed mine. I don’t need to do some sort of genetics’ test to prove it.” He then looked at Bella. “The two that tried to break in – what did you do to them?”

“We put them in a ditch, not too far from this place,” said Bella.

“Make them look concealed, but not too well,” said John. “What did you use?”

Tobias pulled out a silvered knife. “They each had one,” he said.

“Put them back, but make it look like they were hidden too,” said John. “Finding the bodies of actual would-be rustlers/ murderers will make the deception easier. The escape is to look like a rustling operation. I know the codes – get the Ferals here at around sunset. By then, the sleeping pills will be taking effect on the Wolfes, with Millie being fast asleep. Now, you’d best get going. I have work to do.”

Bella nodded, and escorted Tobias and Sally away.



John went to the sheep pen, and found an old ewe, one long past her prime. He took her to a stall, grabbed the sheers, and trimmed her down bare. He also injected her with a tranquilizer, to help her stay calm. Then, he got out the bottle with the tablets, dropped one into a pill feeder, and carefully shoved it down the sheep’s throat.

“I hope that Sam and Mary are easier to convince to get to take these,” he muttered, as he held the ewe.

The sheep soon calmed down, and relaxed. John then got some sinew cord, and restrained the sheep in such a way, she wasn’t going to do much more than wriggle.

“I’m sorry for the rough treatment,” John said, as he hoisted the hundred pound animal onto his left shoulder, causing it to baa at him. “But, as I know, Millie likes her meals to be alive, warm, and somewhat wriggling. Otherwise, I’d pull something out of the cold storage, like a deer. Still, your death won’t be in vain – thanks to you, the herd will escape, and Millie herself will survive the night, instead of ending up as some trophy.” He grabbed his walking club, and hobbled over to a tree, where the big Champion Sheepdog was laying.

“Hey there, old girl,” he said. “Do you want your dinner?” He carefully set the sheep on the ground.

The dog got up, nosed the drugged sheep, licked it a few times, and then went to the bound back feet, and slowly began to swallow.

John watched, not doing or saying anything. Clearly, Millie was enjoying her meal, maybe not as much as she’d enjoy a human, but she enjoyed it just the same. Soon, all that was left of the sheep outside of the dog was their head.

“Hold,” said John.

Millie paused.

“Sit.”

Millie sat upright, the drugged sheep looking at John.

John leaned forward, and kissed the ewe on the forehead. “Continue, Millie.”

With that, Millie gave a hard swallow, sending the rest of the sheep down her throat.

“Good girl,” John said, as he patted Millie. “Enjoy your meal.”

He looked back at the barn. 2 humans would be dead by midnight. Meals for their Werewolf owners, Robert and Julia Wolfe. One more would follow after them.

“Soon,” he said. “Very soon.”