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Adventures In Living With The Mythical |
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A military veteran is adopted by a werewolf and brought into his pack. Insanity ensues. About "Life With A Werewolf" Life with a werewolf is a dramatic blog. As such the characters in this blog are not real but maybe loosely based on real people. The situations represented are not real but maybe loosely based on real things that have happened in my life. There are a multitude of ways to view life, this is simply one of the ways I have chosen to view mine. Updated Every Friday unless I can't or don't want to. If this is your first time reading this...start here: https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1040400-Welcome-To-The-Pack My book, "Dreamers of The Sea" is available now on Amazon: https://a.co/d/0uz7xa3 |
| We were surrounded by angry werewolves who looked like they wanted to turn us into shredded barbecue. If I had a M-2 .50 cal on hand with a thousand rounds of silver bullets I wouldn’t be able to get even half of them before they killed me. There was only one logical action. How does the old saying go? He that fights and runs away… I sprinted towards the cars, shouting at Elouise and whoever would listen, "Crank'er up! Let's go!" Crash and Sophia beat me to his, so I turned and raced towards Elouise. The only thing that that seemed to save my life was Crash staying put, fighting off werewolves as he waited for me to get in a car. Thought I heard Sophia shouting at him the whole time, but I'm not sure. There was a lot of shouting, growling, crying from Zack, Sean and Kris, who all got as low as the could in the car. The furballs attacking us were only concerned with Crash and Sophia. It was as if us humans wasn't even there, almost. As soon as I jumped in, Crash gunned it, his car shedding creatures of the night off of it as it moved. Elouise claims she wasn’t aiming for them, but we did thump a couple. It’s hard to kill a werewolf. But if you hit one with a ton of rolling aluminum and plastic, they will limp away from regretting their decisions. There wasn't a lot of options for me to help. Sure, I was armed, my trusty Glock loaded with silver bullets beside me. But, which one was Crash? Which was Sophia? Her fur pattern was chocolate brown, which is black under moonlight basically. Crashs’ was pitch black. It looked as if the night had come alive to eat you. The rest of them were all the same: black fur, fangs, teeth, snarls. In other words, I could get head shots in the dim light beneath the street lamp, sure. But, would I be killing Crash? Sophia? There’s also the whole “we’re in a neighborhood” thing. At the moment, I imagined we sounded like some sort of wild teenagers street racing on the back streets with a pack of dogs chasing us. If I start opening fire, that would bring all sorts of crazy heat down. Not to mention any one of those stray bullets could go into someone’s home or worse, someone's sleeping child in their home. Killed for the crime of going to bed on time after eating their vegetables. So, what could we do? Crash did some crazy driving, swerving and shaking the tail of his large caddy. The wolves shook but still held on. Sophia snarled, slashing at them, but seemed to be doing more damage to Crash's car than to any of the werewolves. I pulled out my phone. "What the hell you thinkin," Elouise said as I began to dial 9-1-1. "Calling for help," I said. She swerved. There was a thump. A loud snarl that turned into a sharp whine of pain. Then a glance that I swear would have been a glare if she had the time. "You crazy?!" "We have the right to be here," I said. "They don't!" "M-monsters," I shouted into the phone when I heard the familiar '9-1-1, what's your emergency?' line. There was a couple of clicks. Then a voice with a germanic accent said with a weary sigh, "I'll be right down." No one asking me where I was at the moment or anything. Just 'I'll be right down' and click! Not sure what to expect, I looked over at Elouise. "We haven't broken the law," I said. "We were out at the damn cemetery to pay our respects when we were attacked." "It's not been my experience that the cops think too much of that," she snarled. "Crash is a fucking cop, remember?! That's his job?" "Oh," she said. Crash made a left, and then a right and floored it. We struggled to follow, though her SUV seemed to be suited much better to off-roading then over land cruising. The forest was inky black on our right, with a pond or lake of some kind on our left. It was big, but we were a tad too busy for me to see if it was man-made or not. I caught a glimpse of piercing gold in the forest, then something ferocious exploded out of it. It was here that things got crazy. This creature, which appeared to be a little larger than the werewolves, grabbed a couple. I'm not sure if he grabbed their shoulder, or threw them, in one moment they were snarling at Crash, hanging on for dear life, the next they were off of Crash's car. As soon as one wolf caught site of the new arrival, it left without a fight. There was a snarling grunt of a roar that sounded like a wild boar was pissed. Then the rest scattered to the four winds. Crash pulled over to the side of the forest, as well as Elouise. We were all called out of our vehicles. It was then that I got a proper look at the guy. He later told me the proper name of his species is Jofurr. Speaking with a bit of a Germanic accent, the creature was actually quite pleasant once the unpleasantness had been dealt with. A thick tuft of hair was on his head that reminded me a bit of an eighties punk rocker. His eyes glowed with an eerie power. As far as build goes he was similar to Crash, though Crash seemed to have more finesse, and this guy, who hadn't identified himself yet, was built for power. The other strangeness was that he was wearing pants. They looked to be a converted pair of military trousers, worn with a simple rope belt and nothing else. What's so strange about that? Well, most mythicals work, in the fur we'll call it. Makes sense though for them, cause their fur is thick enough that you don't see anything unless you're trying to be a creep. The rougarou do it cause their physiology literally hides anything and everything. There's nothing on them to oggle at, so to speak. But this guy and the vampires were both wearing clothing of some kind. His facial features? Well, take a wild boar. Give it a jovial smile, and place it's head on a power lifter. You'd come close to how he appeared. "I'm Florian, Nice to meet you," the new guy said, grinning around his tusks. Then he laughed and looked at Crash. "You couldn't handle this pack of puppies?!" Crash glared at me. "I was handling it," he said. "I'm guessing you called?" Florian chuckled. "Well, they sure didn't look tougher than those Wendigo's you helped me with a while back." Crash shuttered. "Thanks for reminding me," he growled. "Yeah, we're all alright, I think." "Well, that begs me to wonder though, why are you here?" We all looked at each other for a moment. "Visiting a grave," I said. Florian looked at me, sniffed twice with his snout, and then leaned down into my face. "Now, the little human wouldn't be stupid enough to lie to me, would he?" I did call him, but I was still running on adrenaline. He got in my face with a threat. It's instinct. Drilled into me from years of military training. As he leaned forward and made his threat, I pulled my pistol. "Not without silver," I said, holding it at a low ready. Of all the reactions I expected, laughter wasn't one of them. Florian threw his arms up and in mock shock, then began to gawfaw, sometimes warping into a literal snort. "Don't shoot," he said, between snorts of laughter. Crash shook his head and pinched his eyes, with his ears folded back in the most disappointed look I'd seen on him in a while. "Jason," he said, "Jofurr won't be hurt with silver." Florian's laughter began to pitter out finally and he spoke with just a touch of malice. "Put your toy away, boy. Before I take offense." I hadn't been that embarrassed since that time I woke up drunk in the Wal-Mart bathroom. My cheeks burned as I slid my pistol back in it's holster. Every eye felt as if it was on me at that moment. What can I say? It was reaction. Monsters get in my face, I draw. Have been trained to do that since Basic. "I'm trying to sort some things out," Crash said. Florian snorted in Sophia's direction then nodded. "Well, be careful. Cause next time one of your posse might not be so smart as to call me. And next time, knowing what your sortin, I might not decide to come." Sophia looked down at that statement for a moment. Her ears folded back, like she had been embarrassed. Of course she didn't say anything. But knowing what I know now, yeah, I wouldn't have said anything either. I would have wanted a hole to crawl inside. Florian disappeared into the trees, his form melting back into the darkness from which it was born. After a few moments, both Crash and Sophia turned on me. Yes, I grabbed my pistol again when they did. "What the hell were you thinkin," he snarled. "We had this under control," Sophia snapped. "You did, did you? Cause it looked like we were all about to be dead!" "You didn't know the plan," she growled. "There was no plan," I snapped back. Crash, on instinct I think more than anything else, grabbed my shirt and lifted me a couple of inches off the ground. "Choose your next words carefully," Sophia said. "Cause they could be your last." I had never seen him like that. For anyone. It was as if part of his mind was now gone and what had replaced it was that of a real monster, begging to be let off a leash. I looked down into his eyes, and was about to say something about this being a terrible way to end a friendship. But Elouise beat me to it. "How about if you harm him or any of your friends hairball, you'll draw back a fuckin nub." She had morphed into full rougarou mode. Thick tail, scales, gator snout, the works. And she was ready to fight. |
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