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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 First compilation book will be available soon on Amazon. My book, "Dreamers of The Sea" is available now on Amazon: https://a.co/d/0uz7xa3 |
| Elouise, Crash and I stood at the edge of the park, taking in the scene before us. Perhaps gathering courage we needed to proceed into the pristine, picturesque summer day. The park had a small lake pushed towards the back that rested against the backdrop of the forested mountain. A trail ran around the lake that wandered off through the trees, which must have been a popular walking trail when the heat got unbearable. A couple of families where already out and about when we arrived, a few children fishing in the lake with what must have been their father. A couple of women with the classic 'I want to see your manager' haircuts walked out along the trail into the woods. And of course, Keith and his family out at their barbecue as well, as if nothing was wrong. Below a large tree that looked like something of an oak to my untrained eye, his two kids played with a Frisbee. His wife stood by watching while a portable smoker sat on the edge of the picnic table Keith sat at. He appeared to be keeping an eye on the contents while watching his kids play as if it may be the last time he got to do so . His little girl and young boy laughed and smiled as they threw the Frisbee, occasionally teasing each other. They played as kids who are approaching their teenage years do, with the enthusiasm of those enjoying the last moments of the spring time of their lives. His wife almost pissed herself when she saw us. The initial fear gave way to frustration and anger that was quickly hidden behind a polite southern smile. We smiled back, trying to be as unassuming as we could. Which went over about as well as you'd expect. "So, you're the three here to kill my husband," she said almost congenially, though she never introduced herself to us. "He killed my friend," Crash said. The polite smile grew thin, wearied as fear and anger nearly won out on her face. But it came back with a vengeance, almost like a woman quietly reminding herself of a verbal battle that must be won. "You must be Crash," she said, and shook his hand. "We are sorry about the loss of your friend." Before Crash could say something snarky in response, Elouise handed her the tub of store bought potato salad we grabbed on the way over. "I'll take this on over with the other stuff," she said, looking relieved to be away from us. We made our way over to the picnic table. The tree, the table, everything about it seemed to anger Crash. Not just the family itself, but as if when Crash approached the tree, the table, a scene was playing out in his head. A vicious scene that part of me was glad I didn't have to witness, and part of me wished I could have been there for, with pistol at the ready. Keith smiled and motioned for us to sit down. "The choice wasn't on purpose, I assure you," he said to Crash. Crash could only nod in response. "Seems fitting, if you ask me." Keith turned and shouted at his son, "Damian! Come here." Crash looked as if he'd been struck. The child came running up, and sat down next to his father. "Yeah, dad?" Part of Crash appeared as if he wanted to touch the child's face, to ensure that the child was real or not. His breath caught, and then he inhaled again, reminding himself to breathe. He nodded to Crash. "Meet Crash." Damian's eyes went wide. He swallowed hard and looked down as if scolded. "Are you here to kill my daddy?" Keith ruffled the kids hair a bit, and said "Now, now, I told you not to say that." Damian whispered in his dad's ear. "Mommy said to say it." Keith hugged his child tight. "We won't be fighting today, Damian, I assure you." Turning his face back to Crash, his mask of politeness fell for a moment, revealing the shame and pain Keith must have been feeling. "Damian, tell Crash the story of your name." The child looked embarrassed. His little head ducked his head down. "Daddy did a bad thing," Damian said, his voice soft. Keith nodded, his eyes trained on Crash with the same shame, the same pain. "How bad a thing, big guy?" The child whispered. "Very bad. He hurt someone." Crash growled. Elouise put her hand on his for comfort. I patted his shoulder. "No, not hurt. Killed. In this very spot, Damian. What was his name?" "He was named Damian, too." He hugged his son, a tear slipping from his eye. Then he asked, "Why did I do it?" "Cause daddy wanted to get away from the mean wolves. The Nobility. They said the wolf who killed Damian and ended the poisonous bloodline would get whatever they asked." Crash gritted his teeth, his jaw bulging out from the effort. He took breaths hard and fast through his nose, as if he was on the verge of shifting. With eyes wide in fear, Damian pleaded "Please let me finish the story, mister Crash. Please don't hurt us!" Taking a few deep breaths, Crash nodded. Damian continued. "Daddy loved mommy. They called Mommy a mongrel, said she was part human. So, daddy wasn't supposed to love her. But daddy did anyway. The heart chases what it wants, we can't conquer it, just tame it. That's what daddy says, anyway." Damian took a couple of deep breaths, steeling himself. It looked as if he could almost see it happening. He said "So, daddy did the bad thing. Then, he went to The Nobility, barely alive after. The Nobility lied to daddy though. They said he couldn't leave them. He was going to be given an assignment far from mommy, instead. Live alone in exile." "Then what did I do," Keith asked. "Fought the bad wolves. Killed the one that lied. And ran." "That's right." He hugged his child tight, and kissed his head. "You're named after a noble wolf Damian. One who did not deserve the fate that I gave him." He turned face his son, his eyes holding unshed tears. "He didn't want to fight The Nobility. He wanted to live in peace. It's why you have his name. In honor of him, Damian. No matter what happens, live in peace." He looked up at Crash and said, "Don't continue old fights." Damian hugged his father tight. Then he walked over to Crash and gave him a hug. Crash went stiff, his whole body rigid, as if he was being hugged by a poisonous snake. His arm carefully went around the small child in a polite, gentle touch. Almost as if he was unsure of what to do. "I'm sorry daddy killed your friend. I'll be your friend if you want." Keith struggled to keep from both yelling at and clutching at his child. With careful, measured words he said, "Damian, go play." When Damian and his sister had wandered away from the tree, Crash said in a hushed snarl "what the hell was that?" Keith looked down at the table for a moment. Perhaps to gather the right words, or maybe to gather the strength to say them. "I did you wrong. For that, I am deeply ashamed. He was named in honor of your friend and to remind me daily that some duties are wrong to accept. The wolf who called for your friend's murder is dead. Killed with my own teeth and claws in partial penance. That marked me. This is the only sanctuary we have. If we venture out of this town, The Nobility will kill us. All of us." Crash stood up, his fists clenched and arms trembling from the effort. "This changes nothing. You still carried out the mission. By rights, you die. By grandma's law, you die!" The growl was loud enough, that everyone around our spot stopped and turned. The two children looked as if they'd been slapped and scolded. Crash looked at them, a touch of shame passed over his eyes before he stormed off. He jumped into his Cadillac and sped before anyone could stop him. I looked at Elouise. "That was new. He'd never just left before." She patted me on the shoulder in response and didn't say anything. Keith spoke up. "We can give you a ride, it's no problem." I gave a sharp bark of a surprised laugh. "Thanks, but I think it's best we keep you two separated right now. I don't even want you near our motel." He nodded and grumbled. "Yeah, Perhaps that's for the best." We watched the kids for a while. They were playing with that old Frisbee. But with far less gusto. As if they were forcing themselves to do it. "You aren't exactly fighting him off here," I said. His eyebrows went up, in surprise. "Oh? Having him meet my family, see my kids, hear the story from my child's mouth is not trying to change his mind?" Elouise's glare could cut through glass. "Where I'm sitting at, it's spinning him up. You don't act like a man trying to stop a fight. You act like a man spoiling to start one he wants to lose." She was right. Keith was acting like he was trying to start the fight, not trying to calm it down. Most other people would have called the cops, avoided the other person. Or God forbid, simply left town for awhile until the person who wants to kill them leaves. True, leaving town might not have been an option for him, but the other two certainly was. What was the plan of genius boy at the picnic table? He stepped right up to Crash, almost challenged him to bite his head off right there in the parking lot of our motel the day prior. Then he introduces his family and reminds Crash, in the very place his friend died mind you, of the violent act that had occurred, with a hang dog apologetic look on his face. Like a remorseful murder walking the last mile on death row. "Most people who kick a hornets nest run, not just stand there," I said. Keith's wife must have over heard us. It was right about then she stepped up, with a challenge in her eyes, and a polite smile on her face. "Well, it's almost time for food. Y'all gonna stick around?" Before I could say yes, Elouise jumped in. "No thanks, we better go check on our friend. Y'all have a good barbecue though. Nice meeting y'all." She smiled as if Elouise said the right answer. "Well bless your hearts, I'll fix you a plate to go." We walked over to the road. Keith walked up holding three paper plates, each one had another plate on top to try and keep the food warm. "Thanks for coming by." Of course, it's me. When have I ever let someone have the last word? "I've seen this before, in my previous job. Regret kills too, Keith. Kills more people than cancer." The older werewolf just nodded, and walked back towards his family, holding his head high like he was trying not to appear like the whipped pup he looked like just ten minutes prior. We turned away from the park and walked a while, Elouise and I. Neither of us had the feeling that we were being watched. Eventually though, our observers made themselves known. A large lifted SUV pulled up and drivers side window rolled down. "Hey furchaser. You and your Rougarou get in." There was three individuals inside it. Each one of them was of course, werewolves. They had the size for it, the shape of it, and the attitude. What could we do? Elouise and I climbed inside. We hoped we were just hearing them out, and not riding to our doom. |
| Elouise stood out by the road, her hand on her hip, a phone in her hand. Thumbs flew fast over her screen as she pulled up a ride sharing app, searching for a trip back to the hotel. The snarl on her face matched the snarl in her stance. She was a woman who wasn't prepared to stand by and watch her friend make a tragic mistake. Her protest, though silent, rang loud and clear in both mine and Crash's ears. She stood at the edge of the parking lot, glaring into the thick trees on the other side of it, almost daring them to say or do something. It was in the heat of the day. That meant you got the thick, wet, sticky humidity blanketing you with it's warm hug. A thin sheen of sweat was on all of us at that point, though tempers were running hotter: Elouise in her righteous anger, Crash in his righteous vendetta, and me in my own frustration. Crash ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He half walked, half stormed up to Elouise. It appeared as if he wanted to seem strong, but guilt pulled at his features, weakening the image. He looked down at her, as she continued to stare at the trees, refusing to look at him. "Get in the car, we're not going to abandon you down here." "No, I won't be a party to you throwing your damn life away over some blood feud. You want to murder someone, you're doing it alone," she snapped. He growled through gritted teeth and turned back towards the car to calm down. We were getting nowhere fast. We were hungry. Hot. Thirsty. And Crash did just threaten murder someone in a diner. We had gotten nowhere, and spent too long to get there. Figuring it was my turn, I tried to help. I walked up to her, and leaned in to speak in a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, you could always go along and try to change his mind." "Nothing will change my mind," Crash said from afar. "Stop listening in ya damn fuzzy eavesdropper," I snapped. She rolled her eyes, but gave the faintest whisper of a smile. Seizing on it, I whispered, "I don't want him to do it either. I need your help to change his mind." "Nothing will change my mind," Crash snapped from by the car. "STOP EAVESDROPPING!" we both shouted at him. Crash snarled something and sat in the car. He started it up, and began playing a punk song behind us. "Please? For the pack. You're practically our den mother, we need your help. You know what will happen to him if he goes through with this." She sighed, and snarled. "You bunch of hairless apes with that annoying fuzzbutt back there need a den mother." She looked at Crash. A look passed over her, as if she was warring with something. She looked back at me with an annoyed look I'd seen many times on Sarah when we were married. "If he doesn't change his mind, I'm biting his ass." She stormed back to the car and climbed in the passenger's seat. I climbed in the back and patted the seat in front of me. "We're good, dude." Crash turned the song down. He turned towards the road, and stopped at the exit of the parking lot. "You better not bite me, cause I'm not changing my mind." Elouise and my hand smacked down on his head as we both shouted "STOP EAVESDROPPING!" The car pulled down the highway. Every memory he had of his friend being there was cast in a dark cloud by the presence of the stranger in the restaurant. Elouise was still angry at him, but seemed to have come around to my way of thinking on things. I understood where she was coming from. Sometimes it's best to stand up to your friends when they're doing something wrong, even if standing up to them means walking away. But, it appeared she saw where I was coming from too: sometimes it's better to show them there's a better way, then walking away. Though my way was going to be much harder. The tour through the town turned sour, and many of the places went unspoken of. We could see the pain and anger on Crash's face. He almost seemed to be wondering, how many of the places him and Damian, a wolf that was like a brother to him, was now being enjoyed by the wolf that killed him? The shadow that covered Crash began to cover all of us. The wandering started to become a bit aimless, roaming more towards main highways than small side roads we were taking in the search of food. We eventually found a drive thru, and headed back to the motel, hungry, road weary, hot, and more than a little annoyed. When we got back to the motel, Crash's target stood out by the shade of a tree, away from security cameras. His van was parked next to him near the edge of the cracked parking lot, his arms crossed, his head down. A soft smirk was on his face. It was the quiet smirk of one who is pretending they're in control. The Caddy rolled towards the man, parking next to him. Before me or Elouise could stop him, Crash was out of the car, his chest pressing into the man, a snarl on his face. The smirk on the stranger grew wider. "Crash, you still have a taste for American boats I see." A low growl began to rise in Crash's throat. Crash was three inches taller than the stranger. The man grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards his level. "Careful pup, I may not be part of The Nobility anymore, but I am still quite skilled." My weapon was out faster than I'd ever pulled it. It had surprised the new werewolf into dropping his practiced smirk for a moment. "Get your claws off him, or I'm sending your kids a new wolf pelt." Elouise stepped in front of my shot. "Stop it! Stop it all of you! What in the hell is wrong with every one of you? Out in broad daylight no less, doing this madness." The new guy smiled and released Crash. "Rougarou. I thought I smelled your kind around here. Name's Keith." Elouise held out a hand. "Hell must be frozen over and Satan's selling sleigh rides. I never thought I'd see the day a member of The Nobility would stoop to shaking claws with a Rougarou." Keith laughed. "Yeah. Me and the Werewolf Confederation have parted ways a long time ago. A difference of opinions. If Crash took my head like he wants, he'd be doing a lot in The Nobility a great favor." Closing the small distance between the two, Crash said, "I'd be doing Damian a favor too, wolf." Keith's eyes went wide for a moment, and he backed up a small step. The smirk did not return, and the pain that had replaced it felt and looked real. "That was a regret. Do you care to hear a tale?" The growl in Crash's throat surprised everyone, even me. "No." "When," Kieth asked. "You die three days. You know where." "Midnight then," Keith said. "On one condition," he added, almost as an afterthought. "What," Crash snarled. "Tomorrow. Noon. We meet at your grandmother's park. You will look my family in the eye. Since you are determined to leave them without a father, you must look them in the eye first. And listen to my story." For a moment, I didn't think Crash would take up Keith's proposal. I know, I wouldn't. Of all the people I've had to kill in my previous occupation, I didn't ever go to see any of their families, before or after. Something felt off about it. But Crash surprised me a second time when he snarled "fine," and turned back to the motel room before anyone could reply. Looking at Keith, I said, "You expected to die here." He snorted. "You have a talent for the obvious, human." With a practiced and careful move, I slid my pistol back into it's holster, and hid it beneath my shirt again. "And a talent for observation. Any member of The Nobility, current or former, don't call them 'The Nobility'. In fact, only those who disdain their existence calls them 'The Nobility'. What happened?" Keith arched an eyebrow. "Well detective, come with your friend tomorrow. Find out. Bring a dish, we're having a barbecue!" As Keith got into his car, I looked to Elouise. She shrugged, "Guess we're going to a barbecue for a guilt trip. I'll grab some potato salad." I watched his car leave with Elouise at my side. When he pulled out of the parking lot, I said, "I know I'm not as experienced with all of this stuff as you two, but I've never seen a member of The Nobility just leave them." She shrugged. "Normally, they don't. They're executed as traitors if they manage to get that far. Most, if they stop believing in the cause, just find a cushy small area somewhere with little Nobility influence and live almost like regular werewolves. Occasionally being forced to pull an odd job or two for them." "Makes sense, which makes this so much stranger," I said. "Why's that," She asked, turning back towards the motel. I followed her. "He didn't just take a small cushy assignment somewhere. He left." "You think that's going to change what Crash wants to do to him," Elouise asked. "No," I answered. "But it does complicate things. I just don't know how." |
| We had been into the trip for about a day when the fight started. The fight had come out of no where, and felt like it was a big one. A dam of emotion that was holding back so much wreckage had finally broken free, and we couldn't help but be swept away by it. The first day was filled with friendly banter between us three. Jokes and jabs filled the old Cadillac as much as song lyrics. Elouise taught us some newer country songs and old rap tunes neither of us had known. Crash and I taught her a few rock songs he hadn't heard before. Before long, we all three where rocking and swaying along with the beat in the car, belting out lyrics till we were nearly hoarse, each one of us feeling fifteen years younger. Somewhere in Tennessee, where the mountains broke into their picturesque vistas painted with the setting suns delicate brush, an argument had begun about who was the stronger mythical: gator or wolf. This contest of course had to be settled. So, we were off on our first detour, chasing down frozen watermelons. Cause, according to both, they were the cheapest and best proximity to the density of a human human head one can find without having human heads. "Why don't we have a contest we can all participate in," I grumbled as the detour entered its second hour. "Why sugah, you can always volunteer as the test subject," Elouise smirked. "Just brush your teeth first," I shrugged. "Gator breath will kill me before the bite will." That earned me a punch in the arm. But she did laugh. We ended up around one in the morning in a town near the Tennessee border, a town I've been told to not reveal the name of. This town made Crash gasp. "We're staying here for a day," he said. Then it was off to find a hotel or motel for the night. Motels are always iffy and never on my first or second or even third choice of accommodations. For me, a motel ranks right above sleeping on the street and below sleeping in your car. At that motel we had chosen last night, the rats and roaches took the room charges for us, carried our luggage and demanded a tip. Dust and neglect needed to be evicted from the room before we could settle down. Though, at least the mold had been kept to a single corner in the shower. To be fair, I had stayed in worse places. At least that Motel had a complete roof. Some places I'd stayed in I could literally sleep under the stars if the bed was in the right spot. It had a bed that didn't squeak too much, a shower that at least had hot water, and clean sheets. There was a breakfast buffet too, but none of us wanted to brave it. Elouise summed up our feelings best when she said "Whatever the hell they made in there will probably come bursting out of our chests like in that damn alien movie." We wove through town, searching for breakfast, and still hunting for frozen watermelons. Or just a place we could rent with a freezer to freeze them. The large Cadillac rolled slow, as it rolled back in time for Crash. He didn't see a small town with it's people, pleasures and problems. He saw a life once lived. Large trees and old houses held the shadows of memories running across their lawns. Friendly faces who had long ago grown up, moved away, or just died out came alive. "I lived here three years," he exclaimed. "Then we had to move again." He told us tales, many of which I agreed to keep out of the blog. Tales of friends, of meeting neighbors. When we came to the town square, he pulled the Cadillac to a stop near an old building that looked as if it had been bought by a couple of old hippies and turned into an herbal shop. Large plants hung over the windows, and a vine of some kind was allowed to grow wild over the wall of the old gas station. The two rusty old pumps sat out front, but in the globes where gasoline had once been there was now an atrium of some kind built. The small grass and flowers grew up while the top was covered in moisture, pulling the drops down into it. "This used to be an old cafe," Crash said. "Me and Damien, we'd come here after school." The memory grew dark for him for some reason. I didn't ask him why. I put a hand on his shoulder, while Elouise pulled him into a soft hug. "Damien, he had this way. I didn't know how he did it, but every day he'd come here, and he'd get us free sodas. Sometimes he'd talk the owner into a slice of pie too, though, that wasn't often." He smiled into the memory a bit, and you could see his eyes chasing shadows of himself and Damien across the old cafe. "Come on," Crash said, after a moment breaking from the memory. "I got someone I want y'all to meet." The road wound through the mountain, passing by old businesses and new. The prefab pop up construction of corrugated steel and the old wood and brick. As we wound by a Wal-Mart, we crested a hill and dove down, towards a large old church, with an older cemetery. Crash walked us both up the hill, towards a very old Grave. I promised not to reveal where the grave is or what is written on it, but I can reveal what was printed on it. On the tombstone of the couple in eternal slumber, one had a wolf sitting over her, as if it was in mourning under a moonlit night. The other had an old engraving of a cross. Between them was the words "Vengeance does not live here." "This," Crash said. "Is my grandmother, and grandfather. They founded this town. It was founded on a simple promise. The wars of Europe does not come to this place." We stared at the grave stone a while, letting the somberness settle upon us like a warm hug. The breeze blew gentle through the tree in the distance shading the cemetery. Eventually, Elouise asked, "Why the slogan? Vengeance does not live here?" "Because," Crash said. "My family suffered the most during the civil wars in Europe. When she came back here, refugees from both sides settled in. The fighting, well, it could have easily sparked right back up. And instead of the peace everyone was searching for, we'd have the same old wars, just on new shores." "Very poetic, dude," I said. Crash gave me a look, then continued. "They fought with that singular promise. That this community could be a place of peace no matter where you came from, what your lineage was, or your species. That everyone could find a home." The words written in stone held a promise of some kind and a wisdom. The cryptic message hiding a greater truth from our very souls. As we left the cemetery, the thought of lunch came up. Crash had known this diner on the edge of town, where him and Damien had apparently had plenty of meals as kids. We were in good spirits when we approached, the laughter suspended in air with our teasing. "You gonna ask for a pound of meat this time," I nudged crash. "Heck, I'm gonna ask for two," Elouise smirked. I couldn't help it, I had to say it. "You gonna do a couple laps in the pool first, and have them toss it at you?" She punched me in the arm then. That girl can hit. The fist seemed to find the bone in the right spot to make me cry out in pain. Crash laughed at my joke, and the punch. "If you do, I'll get my meal in a doggie bowl." The smile and bravado on him stopped the moment he opened the door to the diner. Sitting in the back in a corner booth with his wife and two kids was some unassuming guy. No one I'd ever seen before. He looked to be the polo shirts and driving range type of person. In the military they'd be 'the soft spoken church on Sunday and NCO club or Officer's club on Friday night' type of person. A growl built up in Crash's throat at his sight. Elouise's hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him out of the diner. "I don't know what the hell you're lookin at, but if'n you wolf out here, we're all cooked." For a moment, Crash looked as if he was going to shuck her hand and fight the guy anyway. But eventually, he pulled back, storming off to the edge of the parking lot and glared at the front door of the diner. I stood in front of him. "Talk." Crash looked between the two of us. "That guy is responsible for the death of my best friend. A werewolf. He's nobility. And he doesn't belong here." Elouise crossed her arms, and stood on her back foot. A look I've come to know as meaning you're in trouble. "Oh really now? What the hell happened to 'vengeance don't live here' and all that bullshit?" "It'd be a mistake," I told Crash. "Killing him would be retribution," Crash snarled. "You weren't there. That asshole tore his head off, clear off his shoulders, in front of all of us. None of us attacked. None of us was going to attack. He died because of who his parents were." Elouise spat back "Yeah? That sure as hell sounds like vengeance to me. But what do I know?" He snapped back, his fingernails looking more like claws. "Nothing! Cause you're not a wolf!" The glare between the two of them could have frozen the sun. She finally snarled "You're right. I'm not." Storming off, she grabbed her bag from the back of his Cadillac, and then got on the phone to call an Uber. I turned to Crash. "You know I'll back your play. But, maybe this is a bad idea. We came down here to get away from this shit for a few days. What say we blow the nostalgia tour and head to the beach?" "No," Crash snarled. "He's dying before I leave here. Either your helping, or your walking." He stormed away, leaving me stunned. I'd never seen Crash this upset at one person before. Something terrible had happened, a terrible thing he'd harbored a secret grudge for all these years. Me, nor Elouise knew how to stop him. And I wasn't even sure if she wanted to try. |
| It was an office day. Crash wore his white buttoned up shirt and tie. He sipped at a cup of coffee as he leaned against the counter in the kitchen as if he was pulling the very strength to face the day from it. When he lowered the cup, there was a far away look in his eye as he gazed upon the sink full of dishes that I'd end up washing later. It was as if he was wading through a memory. "What did you want to be when you were ten," he asked. His question caught me off guard. "Vodka taste tester." "Really?" He gave me a glare that made me chuckle. "YouTube streamer?" "YouTube wasn't around when you were ten." He took another sip from his coffee, drawing more strength. "What did you want to be," I asked. "Homeless." That caught me off-guard. "You wanted to be homeless?" "Well, I wanted to be a wanderer. To not have a permanent residence. Have enough cash to my name to just pull up stakes any time I liked. Be honest, I didn't see a point in even owning a car." I laughed. "I've seen how fast you run, wolf breath. You don't need a car." He chuckled. "Well, that's just it. I was going to be nomadic. Live on my own terms, on my own two feet. Leave when I wanted to, explore places that I wanted to explore, see things I wanted to see. No house, no town in the world was going to cage me down." "So, what happened," I asked. Crash shrugged. "Life. I remember just leaving when I was younger. You remember that?" I smiled. "Yes, I remember when you wanted to stand in five states at once, you remember that?" Crash laughed. "Darlene about killed me for that stunt." "My girl wasn't too happy either," I said. "But, we drove. I'd just gotten off work and stunk. But you wanted to leave, had to leave. I barely had time for a shower before we were in that crappy old Buick you had." Crash took a sip of his coffee. "Yeah, we listened to music all night. You kept trying to convince us that you could sing as good as Bon Scott." "Hey now! I think I'd make a great front man for AC/DC," I said in mock anger. "Jason, it's about time someone told you. You can't carry a tune in a bucket with a wheelbarrow." I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I remember. You told me that that night. Even got Cynthia and Darlene to agree with you." I smiled into the memory. "But, we drove through that night. Us drinking, you not drinking. And we stopped by that state sign. The moon was full, shining directly down onto it, giving the state sign this almost silvery glow. And then, you walked over too it, and stood right there next to the sign. I got out with you, and stood beside you as Darlene took the photograph." Crash finished his coffee and set the cup down. "Wish I still had that thing." "What happened to it?" Crash turned to the back door and started heading towards it. "Got destroyed in a fight with The Nobility." I didn't say anything after that. Suddenly, I found my coffee cup more interesting as Crash put his shoes on and prepared to leave. "I miss being able to do that. That's what I've always wanted to do as a child. Just be able to get up and go. Explore the woods. See the mountains, or the beach, or just...whatever. Now, I'm here with you guys, I get stuck sometimes. It feels almost unnatural." "How about you take a vacation?" Crash looked at me. "Vacation?" It was as if I was speaking a foreign language. "Yes," I said in a singsong voice. "Vacation. The British call them 'Holidays'. It's where you visit a place for fun and to rest and relax from your regular job. Instead of, you know, killing people." "Very funny, I know what you mean. But, vacation?" "Yeah, vacation. Invite Elouise." Crash stood and looked out the door towards the woods. Then nodded. "I suppose so. There's things I do need to do. Vacation it is. You invite Elouise." "Me? Why me?" "Cause it's your idea. So, you're coming. I'll tell Mitch. I'll call the boss and get him to let Mitch fill in for a couple weeks while we're away." I could tell Crash was getting more excited the more he thought about it. "Hell, I'll even tell Mitch to watch the guys here. He'll love it, he needs it after his pet humans moved away again." "Mitch lost his pet humans again," I asked. Crash shook his head and opened the door. "Yeah, he comes on too strong, I think." "Yeah, I suppose so. That'd piss off most guys," I said. After we said our goodbyes, I walked over to Elouise's place. She was out in her garden that morning, sprucing up her double wide trailer. When I mentioned vacation with Crash, her exact words were "shit yeah, that'd be a whole heap of fun!" I think Sean and Kris are looking forward to us being gone. They'll get time to themselves that every couple needs now and again. Zack will do what he does: play video games and watch anime. Hopefully everything in the house will be fine. But still, I sat down near Valyur that night as he gazed up at the night sky, as if on patrol. "Ey, Meatie, I hear you and the fuzzy one are taking a little vacation, are ya?" I looked over at the lawn gnome. "How did you know?" He smiled. "I have my ways. That and you two aren't so quiet in the kitchen." I blushed in embarrassment. I'd said some awful things about lawn gnomes sitting at that table. "So, uh," I said, trying to get the memory of things I said out of my brain. "You willing to help watch over the place for the next couple of weeks while we run around?" Valyur smiled. "You actually trust a filthy statue to help you and your friends?" "Come on, Valyur, I didn't mean it that way," I began. His smile grew wider. "You'd trust a 'ceramic moron' to guard your property while you and fuzzy britches go away on your little sabbatical?" I had literally started waving my hands. "Listen, Valyur. I was just saying that I'd...." "You mean," he even started jabbing his finger in my chest as he spoke. "to tell me, you'd trust a 'demonic possessed ball of mud' while you and your furry pal go off hand and paw together?" "Hey now!" I poked back. "Watch it!" "Just pulling your chain, Meatie. I'll watch over the place for ya. You'll still have a shingle when you get back, and friends to share it with." "Thanks Valyur," I said. "But Meatie, don't forget: you owe me one after this." Way to make it ominous, Valyur. Still, I agreed. After all, he was helping me out, wasn't he? It's only fair I return the favor. I'm excited for our trip. I don't know what Crash has planned, but I know it's going to be fun. We are going in a more southerly direction, so it will be warmer as well, which is also fine. I got sunscreen. I also have a light coat packed. Knowing Crash, either or both could be required depending on what he has planned. |
| It's been a fun couple of weeks. A peacefulness settled over the town and our household in particular. Sometimes spring is good, because people get busy with their own things, which means they're not busy trying to kill us. Milton was picked up for dealing meth, this time by regular cops. He was so tweaked out of his gourd that he couldn't just mesmerize them and walk away again. Elouise and Crash had started doing regular runs again. I was happy to see that. It's good for Crash to have someone who can actually keep up with him without the use of a vehicle. Mitch has come around a couple of times, in human form. Rare for us to see him that way. Once for a barbecue on Easter. Another time just because. I think he was lonely, but I'm not certain. It was good to hang with him though. And that werewolf is unnaturally good at Mario Kart, I swear. I don't know how a guy manages to get three boo's and a blue Turtle shell in a single race. Even the minor pranks and jokes we play on each other from time to time had calmed down. At one point, I was scared that we had started growing up. Then Crash swapped the sugar for salt the next morning as I was making my coffee. These peaceful times I embrace with a weary eye. Yes, I love settling in, and relaxing. But, is this a real time of peace? Or is this a calm before the storm? There are so many problems out there that we still have hanging in the air. Some problems that does have me checking the windows and doors at night. We can't quite keep an eye on The Nobility and we're not exactly on speaking terms with The Rodriguez clan either. Yes, they have their war to fight, but certain tactics, I don't appreciate. All's not fair in love and war. Sometimes you have to consider the morals and values of the ones you're fighting beside. A lesson that Roam claims to have learned, but I'm not so certain about. And what will happen if Milton actually gets sober thanks to a little forced rehab? How does prison work for vampires, anyway? He seems to have been lost in their system. Which may be great for us or this could be the worst possible outcome. There are millions of ways things could get worse for us from that. Crash told me not to worry, he's keeping an eye out. I'm not getting any more details than that. Knowing our past history, that doesn't comfort me all that much. It seems anytime I don't get a lot of details from Crash, either I end up bungling in the middle of something and make it worse, or it blows up in my face and I'm forced to do something about it. Which makes it worse. That's not to count the whole fae thing, the Rougarou, and so many other problems. A guy could go crazy trying to think about it. It's why we play so many practical jokes on each other. Nothing ever harmful, just the sort of thing designed to make you curse, then chuckle. Like salt being swapped for the sugar. Or Me shorting his sheets. Or someone sticking a pin at just the right spot in your paper cup so when you raise it to take a sip, you're wearing some of it. There's been blow ups, of course. But we've found a way to deal with that, too. Instead of screaming at each other, Crash, Zack, and I have developed a system. We've saved all of the squeaky bones. So, before we get mad enough to punch, we'll toss a squeaky bone at someone. It doesn't hurt. Then you have to throw the bone back, and before you know it - you're running around the house throwing rubber bones at each other, or you're trying to build sheet forts as a defense. It's pretty hard to stay mad about a practical joke or about your day when you're hiding behind a sheet in the living room throwing squeaky bones at someone behind another sheet. One time Crash had come home from work. He went directly into the garage afterwards, attempting to work on his Caddy. After a couple hours of cursing in there, he came back inside. And then I felt the squeaky toy smack me in the back of the head. He'd thrown it from the hall way towards the television, managing to hit me as I was looking down at my phone. So, of course I scooped it up and threw it back. After that, the fight was on. It wasn't as epic as the Squeaky Bone War, which I detailed in full quite a while ago. But it was still fun. And Crash was smiling by the end of it, so I suppose it helped him. But times like these always ends up being a prelude to something awful. I'd noticed the trend a while ago, and I get more and more nervous when they get longer and longer like this. Maybe I'm just being paranoid? But like the song says: 'just because you're paranoid, don't mean they're not after you'. It's a good practice to stay careful. So, I'm keeping an eye out. Watching for trouble, and just trying to enjoy the time I have right now. How ever long this period of calm is going to last. Nothing lasts forever, after all. So, maybe I should more in the present and not worry so much about future problems? Isn't there a saying about counting chickens that deals with this? Anyway, I'm trying to keep my head down. Who knows? Maybe this peaceful interlude will last longer than ever? That would be just fine by all of us. |
| Crash had gone, slamming the door behind him. Part of me assumed Crash was doing his job. But a tiny part kept asking about the Culling. It wanted to know, and worse and worse scenarios kept being conjured up for each one. A little voice inside my head refused to allow me to ignore it. It was a relief when my phone rang. At that moment I would have welcomed someone asking about my car's extended warranty. I would have welcomed phone calls asking me if my refrigerator was running. Anything was welcome other than Officer Smith. When I answered, I heard his voice low and panicked. It was hushed and fearful as he said "Crash has gone crazy! I think he's on the verge of a culling. I didn't think it was this big. You better come quick!" My heart did race, but the more rational part of my brain overrode my fear. I shoved the rational side forward, putting my emotions in a box on a shelf. "Smith, why are you calling me for back up?" "Cause, Crash is off his rocker. He's threatening to invoke the culling! He says....well...." I heard a loud growl in the background of the phone call. It certainly sounded like Crash's voice. I stood in the short hallway, staring out through the kitchen window and beyond. Looking at the darkening sky. My blood was starting to run cold. Crash's familiar werewolf growl shouting "you filthy beasts, I'll kill you all!" When was the last time Crash had ever threatened a human? And filthy beasts? Crash had never uttered those words together in a sentence before in my recollection. Those red flags were now giant red strobe lights warning of danger. But danger from what? That sounded like Crash. Could it be? I grabbed my pistol and checked the magazine. I had twelve total rounds of silver. One would be enough if I had to. Hopefully I wouldn't have to. The phone call ended with a shout. Smith screaming as if something horrible had found him. Smith said he was in danger. Instead of calling for backup, he called for me. He could have been literally anywhere in the county. I thought about the phone call, as I climbed in my car. There's plenty of ways one could fake a phone call. It's not difficult to have AI run voices or screaming in the background. There was other things too. The sound of metal, echoeing, like a school. But....I had a feeling that Smith wasn't at the school. I started at the clearing, the same one Smith had driven me to twice before. He came crawling up from the woods, oozing pouring from slash wounds in his arms, his chest. He gasped hard as he pulled himself into a half-limp, half run. Out of the woods, barreling after him came Crash. "I'm invoking the Culling," he screamed. "I'm killing you all!" It felt weird. It looked like Crash. Sounded like Crash. I pulled my pistol. "Shoot him," Smith shouted. "Shoot him now!" It almost moved like him. But Crash didn't talk like that. "No." Crash snarled, barreling towards me faster and faster. I kept the pistol down at my side as he rose up like a bear, and prepared to pounce. I kept my eyes open, glaring at him. If I was to die, I would stare death in the face. I would not cower. Crash drifted right past me like mist, then disappeared. Crash had never been there at all. It was all an illusion. Smith stood, holding his arms around himself again. He wasn't turned towards the woods this time like he had been every other time. He wasn't crying. He was laughing. The police uniform disappeared like the illusion of Crash had. Smith was now wearing a strange buttoned up shirt I hadn't seen before. It was luminescent and made a rainbow of sick colors as it rippled. It reminded me of an oil slick killing baby seals. "You're not a dumb human," he said, finally. Then he leaped forward. My pistol was knocked away before I even had a chance to raise it up. Smith, or whatever his name was, was stronger than he looked. He threw me over his hip and landed on top of me. His fist tight and smacked me against the temple. His giggles echoed through the stars I saw in my vision. "Oh, if you had shot," Smith said, "you would have killed David Sykes. And my revenge on Crash would have been complete. But you were much to smart for that, weren't you? Oh, you humans are so much fun." He struck me again, and the stars grew larger, the colors bursting in my blurred vision. I was tasting blood in my mouth. "When I'm done with you, you'll wish Crash had killed you." He reared his hand back, and it began to glow an eerie reddish-blue. "Kael!" All the blood drained from his face when he looked up. Crash emerged from the woods where the image of him earlier had appeared. A strange mist began to filll the clearing. "The game ends now." "No, this game has just come to the middle," he said. He didn't as sound confident those words would suggest. Whatever he wanted to do didn't work. Kael tried to slam his hand to the ground, but Crash pounced on him first. There was a low boom as energy of some kind entered the earth. It felt like a small bomb had exploded beneath us. Crash tried to slash at him, Kael rolled and stood. Their movements far faster than before. Crash and Kael moved in a blur. Then Crash was ontop of Kael. Kael tried to throw something in Crash's eyes. Then they moved again, too fast to follow. A low explosion rang out, and a blur landed on his back, while another zoomed to the edge of the woods. Crash stood slowly, his claws and teeth dripping with blood. Kael stood at the edge of the woods, gasping, holding his ribs for a different reason. Blood seeped through his fingers. "You're fun, human. I'm going to enjoy playing with you," he grinned. "If you touch Jason, or any member of my pack, I will invoke the culling." "You make the game challenging, Crash. You always did. Very well, then. Next round will have different rules. It was nice meeting you Jason. We'll have to do this again sometime." And then he was gone. I looked up at Crash. "What the hell is going on?" "Meet Kael. He's a fae and a member of the Unseelie court. A lower level. We've been playing this...game for twelve years." "Game? What game?" Crash turned back towards the woods. "He tries to drive me insane. Or tortures my friends and family. Or tries to drive them insane. And I have to catch him. He thinks it's funny." "So, torturing me and getting me to think that my best friend is going insane and trying to kill me is funny to him?" "Yes. To a fae, you are weak, pitiful creatures. Think of it like a bored child pulling the legs off a spider." I stood in the clearing for a long time. The weird moonlight glow stopped shining over it. You couldn't see the few houses that was beyond the thin trees of the woods in that spot, but I had no doubt in my mind that Kael was telling the truth about me killing Sykes, some poor innocent man who's only crime was existing. Who probably had no idea how close to death he actually had come, his entire existence being snuffed out so he could be the punch line in some creatures sick joke. And Crash had threatened that word. That word that had been bothering me all evening. "Crash, what is a culling?" He sighed heavily. "Jason...." turning back towards the woods, he said "I have the authority under special circumstances to destroy citizens in order to restore order." "Citizens like humans?" Crash nodded. "Citizens as in anyone." It felt weird knowing that. I swallowed. "So, you could kill me then and get away with it with paperwork." "No. Only way I could kill you, is if you were randomly brainwashed by a mythical for example, and started shooting into a community of innocent people." I took another deep breath. I could just barely see a light on in a window beyond. Or was that my imagination? "So..." "Jason, I got a full plate tonight. I need to go." I understood. "Go ahead. I can find my way back home." "For the record. I was never worried." He chuckled then in that low gruff way werewolves do, his ears tilting back into a grin, his tail giving a soft wag. "You're the most skeptical person I know. It would take a lot more for him to brainwash you." "For the record, I wasn't worried either." He arched an eyebrow at me, his ear twisting back in that manner that I've come to know as his wolf version of "really?" "Okay, not as worried." "Why?" "Well, little things. One, you're faster. Two, you don't talk like that. Three, he kept getting police procedures wrong, doing things that made no sense. Why come to me for these things when he should have an entire department of people to ask for help from? And four..." "Four?" "I know you'd let me shoot you rather than attack me." Crash turned back to the woods. "Heh, you'd let me maul you rather than attack me." I didn't respond as he disappeared into the woods. I drove the short distance home, not really paying much attention to anything other than my own thoughts. I get the feeling this Kael guy will be back sooner or later. His attempts to get us fighting seemed to be almost halfhearted. As if he was feeling me out first. Like a military pushing small forces at a nation's borders, he was testing my own responses, my own methods and thought patterns. Whatever trick he pulls next may be horrible. If this was him just testing the waters, I really don't want to see what his next trick is. I still get the impression that Crash is not telling me the full truth about this whole "culling" thing. But, I understand. There was parts of my previous occupation that I didn't want to talk about. Things that I couldn't talk about, not only because if you weren't there you wouldn't understand, but because the knowledge of the items itself wouldn't be understood. I'll do my best to forget about the whole 'Culling' thing. That's going to be difficult without alcohol. Hope my sobriety holds out - wish me luck. |
| It was a couple days later. Once again, I was back in the squad car, sitting in the back. There was a binder sitting next to me. He grabbed me this time as I was making my way towards the grocery store. Last time I had just been out on a walk. "Officer Smith, you keep this up and people are going to talk," I said. He gave me a smirk but didn't respond. We wound up at the same open field. When he opened the door for me, he opened the binder, and I walked towards the woods. "Quote....A county werewolf, if ever finds a population to be duly unruly or ill, may invoke a culling. In this act, the county representative will destroy as many citizens as he deems necessary until the threat has been passed. End quote." He handed it to me open to the page. The regulation looked official, alright. At least to my semi-trained eye in such things. But anyone can fake a regulation. I looked towards the woods and took a couple steps towards it. "Regulations can easily be faked," I said. "Especially when they're in a three ring binder." I thumbed through the binder a bit as he spoke again. "Doesn't child molestation count as an illness?" "I don't know what Crash's job entails. What I do know, Officer, is that you have a sworn duty to uphold the law, to protect the public. If you think something is going on, then report it!" He snarled at me, stepping close. "Don't you think I've already tried that?! Every day, my daughter gets worse, and they tell me nothing is happening! Nothing's going on, there's no evidence. She's almost catatonic now! She won't go to school anymore. I can't get her to leave the damn house!" "What do you want me to do about it?!" "Tell Crash to invoke the culling. To kill that piece of shit that the cops won't." One of many red flags struck me. "Aren't you the cops?" He just continued to glare. He turned towards the woods, pulling his arms around himself. "You know what I mean," he said eventually. It sounded like he was on the verge of tears again. "Look, Officer. Crash will be awake at five. Be at the house about five thirty, you can talk to him then." "I can't. I have an appointment with my daughter out of town. We won't be back in town till seven tonight the earliest." I examined the binder he handed me. It was in black and white, it did look official. I snapped a photograph of the page on my phone when he wasn't looking. "Okay, okay. I'll tell Crash to investigate. His word on this, whether he chooses to investigate anything or not will be final, and this matter will be settled, alright?" He kept his arms around himself, still staring at the woods. "That sounds perfect," he said. Then he dropped me off back home. He even flashed the lights once when turning into the house, though I'm not sure what that was even about. It took a couple of minutes before Crash was up and around. He went to the kitchen to grab himself a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal. I was waiting. I knew I needed to talk to him about Officer Smith and his weirdness, but I didn't want to surprise him immediately when he got up. Instead, I went into the kitchen, and poured myself a cup of coffee. Crash was thumbing through messages on his phone as he ate. "Jason, we have to talk." "Yeah, Crash. I think we do," I said. "You're lucky. You could have been arrested," Crash said. I was stunned. "For what?" "Come on, Jason. You didn't think anyone would notice you stalking around the school campus? You're very lucky." "Oh, come on! I was no where near any school campus! I was going to the store when I got picked up." "That's strange, considering it says you were stalking Derek Styles." "Who the fuck is that?!" Crash showed me a picture. It was a familiar picture, the same one that Officer Smith showed me earlier. "You got to leave that man alone, Jason. He could have pressed charges." I gritted my teeth and clenched my fist. "Who made the complaint? Let me guess, officer Smith?" "The one who nearly arrested you? Yes, he filed the damn report! You're really lucky." "Crash, will you just listen to me for a second?! I wasn't near any damn school! I don't know Derek Styles, and I didn't ever even approach the guy!" Crash steps forward then. He leans in, and takes a sniff. A dark look crosses his face. "Where were you?" "I was just walking. Officer Smith picked me up." I showed Crash the photograph. "That's....not regulation. That's not even legal," Crash said looking down at the image. "Crash, what's a culling?" "I told you," he said. "No, you didn't. You danced around it and gave me a rumor. You told me it's something you don't ever want to do." Crash started stripping as he raced towards his room. When he got there, he shut the door, and I could hear him beginning to shift into his werewolf form. "Crash, what the hell is going on?!" "I can't....." he started. A bone popped and he gasped. "I can't....talk about...." he gasped again, and something else shifted. "Then tell me what a culling is," I said. He threw open the door in his werewolf form. "No," Crash said. Then raced out of the house. I was left there, holding my phone, staring down at the image of that fake regulation. Crash was gone. I still had questions. What was a culling? Why was Crash so terrified of telling me what that was? What was up with Officer Smith? What was going on?! |
| It wasn't my first time riding in the back of a cop car. It certainly was my first time doing so sober. It was also the first time I had ridden in one without being handcuffed. "It's just easier like this," the officer told me up front. He had a grizzled face that made him look about a billion years old. But in truth, he was probably only in his late twenties. Hard jobs have a way of aging you and causing you to turn to substances that age. Alcohol, cigarettes, Other items that's even worse for your body. Officer Smith up front was no different. We rode out to a small out of the way clearing. The sun was just getting ready to set. "I hope you brought the picnic basket and blanket, cause I didn't pack a thing for this date," I said. "Nope, just handcuffs." "Kinky," I replied. He just shook his head. He let me out, and guided me some distance away from his patrol car. "Sorry to pick you up like this." There was a hangdog look to his face, as if his entire world was crumbling around him and he was just barely holding it together. "I need Crash's help. I need a werewolf." "You literally have his phone number." He put his hands on his head, and turned towards the trees in the distance. Slowly, he began to rub the back of his head. "She came home crying. She never cried before. Not for years. 'Little girls cry' is what she told me." "So, her boyfriend?" "I think it was her math teacher," he said. "Bastard was always so understanding. A huge feminist, always big on female empowerment. But, in the couple of times I met him he just had this look in his eyes. This creepy look that I've learned means 'I'm going to do something horrible. And laugh about it.'" "What was she doing when she came home crying? Was it a date?" "No. She used to be so active in school. She was in the debate club, the glee club. She was on the student council. Now, she's withdrawn from everything. Won't talk to me, and of course I have no evidence, no cause to talk to anyone." "Officer. Why come to me with all of this?" He shook his head for a moment, and walked towards the woods. I could tell he was fighting back tears. His shoulders slumped, his arms wrapped around himself like he was hugging himself. His head bowed for a moment. Then he stepped back, his eyes red. "Cause, I'm hoping you can talk him into something." "You want him dead." He gritted his teeth. "I want him eviscerated. I want his guts strewn across that fuckin campus. I want Crash to eat his black heart and drink his blood." We stared at each other for a moment. "That would mean Crash would lose his life." He blinked. "What?" "Crash can't just go out and..." "That's bullshit. Of course he can! He's a county werewolf, he can literally kill anyone he wants to! He'd just have to write the paperwork after. He can kill your entire household if he got tired of all of you one day, and then come into work gnawing on your thigh bone. No one would say a thing to him. It's part of his job. Culling they call it. Ask Crash about it." "I don't understand every part of Crash's job officer, but I do understand there's severe repercussions for..." He growled low in his throat. It grew louder until it over rode my statement. "Look, just ask him, okay? Please?" It was a long awkward ride home. I didn't say another word, and he didn't either. When I'd gotten home, Crash was already out and about at his office doing the office work portion of his job. This kind of information wasn't the type that I was going to bother the other guys with. But it did eat at me. That what if. I know Crash has said in the past that he'd have severe repercussions for harming humans. But, is there a reason and way he could get away with it? Was there something to what that cop told me? At the time I didn't want to admit it, but he managed to give me some doubts. When Crash eventually came home that day, the sun was already setting. He was always more than a little irritable on those days and that day was no exception. Crash came in, his head hung low, his hands balled in fists. "You look like you need a shooting game," I said. He just nodded. And proceeded to tell me...well, I can't talk about it here. But, work related office crap. The political machinations of a small office filled with friends who have to work together on occasion. The conversation carried us from the front door, over to the video game. Zack was still at work, so we had free reign of the television. As we powered up the system, I bit the bullet. "Crash, what's 'Culling'?" He dropped the controller for a moment. Then picked it back up. "Where did you hear that term?" I turned towards him. "What does it mean, Crash?" "It's one of my more hated responsibilities," he said as he chose a game for us both to play. "Crash, come on. What does it mean?" He turned the game on for a moment. I didn't think he was going to answer. Finally, he said, "in the seventies it is rumored that a werewolf and two politicians had drinks. Well, sometimes they're generals not politicians, and sometimes it's not drinks but coke, but you get the idea. They were talking about worst case scenarios and things that could be done about it. The worst case scenario thankfully has never happened and I've never had to use that hidden law." "What's the worst case scenario." Crash didn't answer. "After all the crap you know I've seen and done, you can't trust me with this?" "Jason." He laid a heavy hand on my shoulder. "There's a lot that you still don't know. Hell, there's quite a bit that I don't know. Trust me when I say this. I can't explain it to you, okay? Please?" I didn't like the fact that he kept something from me like that. But I finally agreed and we played a few rounds of the zombie level on Call of Duty. I won of course. We didn't talk about Culling or Officer Smith's daughter and her math teacher problem. To be honest, I wish we did. It feels like there's a weight hanging between us now. I just hope that when it comes crashing down it won't cause a rift. |
| We were sitting in a dining room, trapped within four small walls with Gary, Judith, Darin, and of course, Denise. We tried enjoying our hotdogs and hamburgers, and I remember sitting at the meal thinking about how strange it was to be eating hamburgers with a minotaur not less than five feet from me. To her credit, she did eat a hamburger as well. It was piled high with toppings of course: lettuce, tomato, pickles, onions, almost double of every topping on it, and a decent amount of fries. Much of what was eaten was had in silence. We spent most of the time staring down at our plates, waiting for the big occasion to arrive. Judith for her part was trying to do everything to extend the dinner. Offering seconds, thirds. Offering cake, taking out a pie they had yesterday even. But it was delaying the inevitable, and most of us turned the pie down. Crash and Denise afterwards exchanged a look. There was a serious nature to it, but something lay beneath it, something I didn't question at the time. As they headed outside they both had started shifting. They shed their shirts, but was wearing overalls. Denise to her credit had a sports bra on that she kept on, not that the overalls revealed much anyway. The fight was about to be underway, Gary was inside next to me on pins and needles. "Oh dear lord, oh, I never wanted, oh..." he kept saying. I looked over at Gary. "Never wanted what?" Judith was next to Denise outside, trying to talk her future daughter-in-law out of the fight. Darin was in front of her, trying his best to protect his wife. The snow on the ground made everything a bit difficult for Darin and Judith. Crash and Denise barely felt it. The only light they had was the street lamp on the corner. The only audience other than Darin and Judith was a stop sign, the trees in the neighborhood, and us two inside. "I just....I mean..." Gary said. He looked as if he was biting his thumb now in nerves. He started to step outside. I grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back in. "Bad idea," I said. "This is my fault. My fault. I just wanted Darin to not suffer the way I did. I only wanted Darin to be happy. Not be trapped in his own mind. To witness himself doing horrible things to his friends and neighbors and have no way of stopping himself. No recourse to...to..." he stopped. Both Crash and Denise were staring at us now. At him. "Gary," I said. "Let me ask you this, does it look like Darin is trapped? Me? I've known Crash for years now. He's never once made me feel that way." "No," Gary muttered, shaking his head. "But, my experience...." "You're experience was with a meth-headed vampire who hates me and Crash and wants us both dead. That is not your, mine, Denise's or Crash's fault." He paused a moment as if my words had struck home. Or if not home, at least they struck something. He nodded a single time, then stepped outside. I tried to grab him, but he didn't listen then. "I must protest," Gary said, stepping between them. "Crash, you are my dearest neighbor and friend. I've known you for years. Denise, you are going to be my daughter-in-law. I can't let this continue." "This is out of your hands, Gary. I have a duty to perform as a duly appointed official of this county and state. I must ask you humans to step inside. Step away from the windows, and wait till this is over." Darin grabbed his fiance, and pressed his forehead to hers. "Don't be bullheaded please," he said. She smiled at him, and set him aside, along with Judith. I pulled everyone back to the house as best I could. "It's out of our hands. We'd only be collateral damage now." Judith looked at me, her eyes heavy. "That means, we're only in the way, right?" I nodded. "Good." She said, then she stepped between them again. She looked at Denise and Crash and said, "fight if you may. But it will be over my dead body." She closed her eyes. Gary stepped in next to her and said "and mine." I looked at Crash and Denise. "I know you're fast enough to literally fight around us and no one will probably get hurt. Or just move to the back yard and we can't keep up. But, I'd rather you not fight either." "Denise, your family loves you," Crash said. "You willing to let this go?" "No." The shift had come strong and hard for her, I heard the bones popping and rearranging as she grew into her form. A gutteral, visceral sound that even made me squeamish. There was the sound of velcro ripping, then a tail sprouted from behind her. Her horns finished growing in last. Both Judith and Gary gasped at the sight of her. "We won't fight till death. We'll fight to first blood," she said, clenching fists. Crash by now had been through the worst of his change as well. His snarling muzzle curled into a smile with his ears. "You're at a disadvantage." He flexed his fingers showing off his claws. "Till first pin. We take it to the back yard." They moved around us. We stayed near the front, watching at a distance. It was something to see. They moved with such speeds and ferocity when unencumbered by us. They started at a distance, Denise drug her foot like a bull on a charge, bent down into a fighters stance, and then...there was a blur. They were locked up together in a wrestlers grip, one trying to over power the other. Then there was another blur. Denise had Crash in a headlock. He turned his head inward towards her, then another blur. He nearly had her in a half-nelson. She bellowed loudly, and then another blur. Even I was amazed the sight of it. They were moving so fast, we couldn't keep track of them. Eventually, Crash had Denise pinned to the ground with his elbow over her chest. He glared at her, snarled something we couldn't hear. She nodded. He stood then grabbed her hand, picking her up. There was no bloodshed. There was...nothing. Judith broke ranks first and began running to her daughter-in-law. Darin moved after her, but got there first. Gary made it there last. Crash stumbled over to me, as if he was hobbling. I gave him a look, but we continued moving until we got to our house. When inside, I said "okay, you can stop acting, they can't see us." He smirked, then started walking upright again as if nothing was wrong. I recognized that ear smirk of his now, the subtle twisting of his ears. "You set the entire thing up, didn't you?" Crash shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about." He went further into the house, and I followed. "Don't give me that crap. I've seen you fight. There was about a million ways you could have ended that entire thing far before all of that." His only response was to smirk wider. "I still don't know what you're talking about." "Crash." He stopped and turned to me. "This going in the blog?" I nodded. His smirk became a grin. "Then, I have no clue what you're talking about. You humans and your ideas, I swear." He grabbed a drink and disappeared into the woods afterwards to perform his patrols, or do whatever it is that he does. I didn't see him until the next morning where he still refused to talk about Gary's dinner party. We exchanged a few pleasantries, then he went to bed. Me? I still believe it was theater. I am starting to believe the entire thing was a performance, put on for the benefit of two people. I don't believe Darin was in on it based on his actions. It certainly has changed Gary's and Judith's opinions on Darin's fiance'. I have my own theory about what had happened, but Crash has requested that I keep my theory out of the blog. Perhaps when Denise and Darin have their third wedding anniversary, maybe I'll post it then. Until then, hi Darin, yes I'm as much in the dark still as you on everything. Play acting or not, conspiracy or not, either way it's helped Gary out immensely. He comes around more often now like he used to before the entire vampire invasion. Asking about cars, true, but occasionally I hear him talking to Crash, asking about mythical stuff, various questions on the life. In the end, that may have been his true goal for the entire thing. Can't say I blame him for doing it that way. Still, he could have at least told me afterwards. |
| Everyone could feel the fight brewing. This wasn't going to be a simple neighborly spat. The kind where we come in, say a mean comment, and leave before the cake is sliced and everyone talks shit about each other behind our backs. No. This fight was brewing up to be a knock down, drag out Christmas Eve fight. The kind of fight that destroys Christmas gatherings. The type of fights the police end up knowing everyone by name for. Judith pulled me into a conspiratorial whisper. "What happened between them," she asked. Denise and Crash were still glaring at each other. I knew they could hear us in the kitchen so I just gave Judith a simple shrug and whispered back "We'll probably find out. Don't pry too much." I had hoped she would take the hint. "So," Crash said loudly. A bit too loudly. "Are you still in horticulture? Perhaps doing any extracurricular gardening?" "No, I swear," Denise said back. A hint of fear and anger in her voice. "I haven't been doing any of that. I don't seem to find the time anymore. Darin keeps me pretty busy." Before we could hear anymore, Darin came storming out of the garage. "No dad! Denise isn't like that!" He rounded the corner and glared at Crash. "And she doesn't need any flea-bitten cop wannabe harassing her. You got a problem? Get a warrant. Come on Denise." Crash had that mischievous glint in his eye. "Goodbye Denise. Or should I say, Clara Gartner." Everyone in the house stopped at that moment and turned to look at Denise. Everyone but me. A look of horror washed over Judith's face. Me? I was just surprised. "Who?" Denise snarled at Crash, fur bristling on her arms. "Oh, Fuck you," she snarled, shoving Crash backwards. He giggled, landing on his back foot and coming forward again. Fur had grown down his arms, and his fingers were starting to form claws. "Okay, okay," I shouted. Raising my hands I stepped between them. "Before we destroy someone's house, why don't we all take a deep breath. Explain what's going on. And tell it like we've never heard this story before." "Clara Gartner's dead, Crash, I told you that," She snarled, pointing a finger at him. Her head horns were beginning to show. A muzzle was forming on her face. "I made a mistake, and damn it I paid for it! Isn't losing my home enough?! You have to take my love, too?!" Crash had a muzzle forming on his face as well. It wouldn't be long before we were standing in a warzone. "I want to know, Clara, if you're up to your usual bullshit, or if you're truly done! You know what I'm supposed to do if I ever saw you again!" Darin stepped in front of Denise, holding his arms out. "You'll have to go through me." I looked at Darin. "That's sweet. And a good way to get a concussion for free. If you're lucky. Step away." Darin glared at me. "I don't know you. I know him and her. You step away before I hurt you." I laughed. Even Crash blinked at my laugh. It was a dark laugh, something you'd hear a Saturday morning villain give. "Oh, son. I'm going to do your parents a favor and pretend I didn't hear you say that." I looked over at Crash and said "Start talking." It was Denise who began. "I made a mistake. I paid for it. I lost my house, my job, my life..." Crash laughed. "Your job was literally selling poison to humans. You're lucky you didn't get killed." She snarled. "It wasn't to humans! I was selling to werewolves, minotaurs, creatures to who could partake and enjoy the high, not to humans. How was I to know!" What shook me about all of this, was that Darin wasn't. These revelations appeared as if it was something he had already known. He kept glaring at Crash, kept his hands held out like he's trying to stop traffic. "Denise, you don't owe that asshole anything. He has no probable cause. Come on." He even tried to grab her shoulder. Crash looked at her and said "You better explain things to him or I will. He won't like how I'm gonna do it." She sighed and touched Darin's shoulder. "We don't get those kinds of rights, Darin. It's different for us different creatures." She glared at Crash. "But I literally have done nothing! You have no right to threaten me or attack me here." Judith stepped in the middle at this moment along with Gary. "Now this has gone on far enough!" She glared at Denise first. "You can't sit at a table like that. Shrink back down proper, now." Gary glared at Crash. "I didn't ask you over here to destroy my home! Get to normal, and lets eat!" We all made our way towards a dining room table near the back of the house beyond the kitchen. Darin grabbed his father and growled in his ear where he didn't think I could hear it. "Why did you invite them? To interrogate Denise? Or to change my mind?" Gary's face went sheet white for a moment. "I'm just trying to protect us all." The table was set. Burgers in the middle with dogs, buns on either side. Toppings was within easy reach and passed around. A large bowl of french fries too. Ketchup, mustard, mayo. The table was topped with a vinyl cloth that would be easy to wipe clean. The room was a normal size, but felt smaller due to Crash and Denise both rather large sizes. Judith tried to set them away from each other, but the table wasn't big enough to separate them too far. We all sat down, me next to Crash, Darin next to Denise. With Judith and Gary on opposite sides of course. This meant I was across from Denise, and Darin across from Crash. There was more than enough snarls to go around, with all of us staring at our empty plates or the food, no one looking at each other. Gary started us off in a prayer of sorts. "Why don't we all go around the table and name one thing we're thankful for. I'll start. I'm thankful for the wonderful food, my son, his new fiance, Judith and our understanding neighbors." Next it was Denise's turn. "I'm thankful for everyone sitting here," she said. Darin glared at Crash one last time and said "I'm thankful for Denise, and my parents." It came around to Judith who said "I'm thankful for peace." Then it came around to me. I was trying to lighten the mood. I swear I was. Given the circumstances it was the exact wrong thing to say at the exact wrong time. I am many things, but smart in this kind of a crowd of people is not one of them. I opened my mouth and gave a smile. "I'm glad Denise didn't grow any of the vegetables." Darin snarled at me, Crash suppressed a giggle, and Denise sighed. I didn't see the responses of the other two, but that set the ball rolling. "Well, I'll have you know," she said, "I have a very green thumb. I'm pretty good at growing vegetables." "Most minotaur's do," Crash said. She glared at Crash. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Crash sighed. "It's your religion, 'Denise' what the hell do you think it means?" She stood, and snarled "I think it means it's about time I gored ya." I stood and shouted "ALRIGHT! It was a joke! I'm sorry, just a joke! Trying to lighten the mood! I didn't mean anything by it! Please sit down, let's calm down." Darin grabbed Denise for a moment and left the room. Judith and Gary did likewise, having some sort of family discussion. I turned to Crash and asked "Are you being too hard on her?" He whispered "she indirectly poisoned a fourteen year old child. One of her associates was reselling her crop. She claimed she didn't intend for him to do that. I had to kill her associate and banish her. The child she almost killed just barely made it out of the coma six weeks later." I swallowed hard. "Oh." When Darin returned with his head down, and his fists balled up. He forced himself to unclench them, and took a deep breath. "For everyone's peace of mind. I am aware of Denise's past. She's very apologetic, and I, for one, believe her. Though we don't worship the same God, I allow her to do her work in the garden, and she comes to church with me on Sunday. Every year, she makes a deposit in that child's name to a bank account. The kid thinks they have some sort of college scholarship. Now, are we ready to put this behind us? Please?" We all looked at each other. There was a period of silence. Crash looked at Denise as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. She snarled at him. "I want a peaceful meal. But, mutt, you have insulted me for the last time. After dinner, me and you, outside." I had one hot dog, one hamburger, a plate of fries, and a slice of delicious Devil's food cake to attempt to convince Denise and Crash not to fight. Cause I knew if they did fight, something inside the family, and our neighborly friendship, would be damaged forever. |
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