Sword's Tavern

Breathing hard he tore through the woods, in and out he cycled cool moist night air.  Light from the silver glow of the full moon belched out upon the woodlands.  Free.  He felt free, felt as if he had not been alive in years.  Strength and power surged through him, rushing through his veins as he let loose and ran though the underbrush, snatches of branches and brambles nipping at him, taking tufts of hair as he passed.  He didn’t care about leaving traces, he was free.

Stopping at a stream he knelt and drank, long slow draws from the cold water, water that fed the earth, fed him.  I am the night, I am the earth, I am the power he thought, all the power in the universe.  He had forgotten just how good it felt to run, feeling his powerful muscles move him along.  Feeling his lungs exercise and work for a change.  He pushed his body hard, only to have it respond by wanting more.  It felt good, so he ran.

* * *

The cold morning sun spilled lazily across his legs, entwined in the sheets of his bed.  His body looked as if it had been wrenched from the night, twisted and mangled like so much of a rag doll tossed aside by a child outgrowing innocence.  With the slow realization of morning creeping into his consciousness, Albert began to join the world of the living.  As the sunlight that so gently played upon his face crept into his mind he sat up with a start; realizing he was late; he must have over slept.

He turned and looked about the room in a panic, wondering how he could have slept so late.  He threw back the knotted sheets and swung his feet to the floor and it was then that true realization set in, a stark and rude awareness brought on by the sight of mud and dirt on his legs and feet.  As he tore his eyes from his lower extremities, moving to his hands he saw more of the dark red clay filled mud.

Horror.  He could feel the horror rise from the pit of his stomach, rising to the hard knot now forming in his throat.  He could scarcely believe it had happened.  He had let it out last night, had let loose the monster.  How could it have happened?  He had been so careful, what went wrong?  He would have to figure out what mistakes he had made, after being so careful and proper.  So long had he lived without making any mistakes.  So long had the monster been caged; bound and gagged within his soul.

He could not dwell on this, not at this very moment, it was over.  Morning was upon him and he was late for class.  If he had any hope of keeping a semblance of his life, fortifying that normalized front that was oh so important to him, he had to get to the University.  Showering at a breakneck pace, water pouring on him so hot it nearly burned the skin from his bones, as if he thought he could rid himself of his burden this way.  His memories were ravaged by his brain trying to decipher the night before.  He came up empty handed, with no clue as to what had transpired through the night.  His only comfort was in the absence of blood on his person, sheets and clothing remnants.  At least, he thought, maybe no one had died this time.  Hastily Albert dressed, grabbed his bag and slammed the door behind him, rushing for his car.

* * *

“I don’t think he’s gonna show,” a voice murmured somewhere in the back of the room. “Let’s bail.”

Another voice answered, “I dunno man, you know he’s always late.  Besides, this is one class I actually enjoy, he keeps it interesting if nothing else.”

“Yeah,” another student chimed in “and the curve he grades with is frickin’ huge!  Haha, easy grade.”

Another student, near the front of the class piped up, “Stop it, Professor Hall is a brilliant man, can’t you see that?” said Allison Wanderly.  Allison was five feet, two inches of country girl that screamed bombshell.  Blond hair, blue eyes and proportioned well.  Although beautiful, she wore an expression that made it clear was was not to be trifled with.

“Right,” replied the student in the back, “we forgot that you are only here because you are in love with him.”  Allison rolled her eyes and abruptly turned her back to the boy, her indignant stare hanging in the air behind her as the door nearest the front of the room burst open.  Professor Hall flowed in, quick and jagged in his usual if not more so hurry.

“OK class, settle down, you know the drill, you aren’t late if you get here before me.  You should thank me for being busy enough to buy you extra time to get across campus.” Professor Hall said.

Backs straightened as students sat upright, chairs scrubbing the floor, hunching into desks.  This was your typical Community College class room.  A good school to be sure, but never funded like those larger Universities with the grand stadiums and winning football teams.  This was just another Chemistry 101 class, nestled inside the Westbury Community College campus.

Professor Hall had always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, and he could no more change that, than he could change the beast that hid within him.  Maybe that’s why the young and beautiful Allison had fetched him so.  Maybe she knew of his feelings, could read him like the textbook they read in class.  Maybe she knew of his longings and dark fantasies, but he was quite sure she didn’t know why he stayed away.  She had made it perfectly clear to him that the attraction was mutual, that she was willing and even eager to learn more than just chemistry, yet he stayed away.  She assumed it was the obvious professor student rules, that he was afraid of getting fired or something like that.  She had no idea why he stayed away, did she?

* * *

Later that evening, Albert was alone in his classroom.  It was a rather nice room really, three rows of wooden desks with a large lab area for students to experiment and learn and him to teach.  More than that, it gave him a place to work.  Few understood the subject he taught, so no one cared to question him when he worked evenings, nights and weekends on various and sundry things.  In truth, there was time spent preparing and testing labs and coursework, however, more of the time was spent on his own work.

He made sure he supplied what he needed for his own studies, he didn’t want to steal from the school.  Oh he could, but he wasn’t that type of person.  This job gave him the tools he needed to research his condition, hoping that someday he could reverse it.  He hoped to one day forever quell the beast that raged within him, sometimes out of his control.

As he worked, his mind went back to the previous night.  He was still trying desperately to determine how he had let the beast out, why he didn’t remember anything, and what he was going to do about it.  It looked as though there would be enough of the full moon left to bring the beast out to play again, and that worried him.  There had been times when the transformation had happened even without the traditional full moon, though that was rare, and he had never tried it on purpose.  It had always been an accidental summoning of the beast.

* * *

An unnatural chill hung in the air as rain fell from the sky on this summer night.  It was late, and warm despite the rain, but Jessica felt the chill no less.  She stepped out the front door of the apartment building on third street, where she had spent the evening with her lover.  Calling it an apartment was an injustice to the hovels of the world as this place was your typical frat boy flop, low on decor but thick on beer cans and leftover pizza boxes.

She hated leaving in the middle of the night, it always unnerved her, but the asshole she couldn’t seem to stop seeing was too much of a pig to walk her out.  She noticed someone walking down the sidewalk, a ways away but still generally aiming in her direction.  It looked like one of those guys who read too many Stephen King books.  Long dark coat and wide squat hat covering his head, leaning forward into the rain.  She was always amused by these “Oh, I’m so scary” types.  Jessica decided she had better brave the rain and head for her car all the same, she wasn’t really worried about this nut walking down the street, but you couldn’t be too careful, could you?

With a sigh, she stepped into the rain, immediately she could feel her hair soaking up the water and flattening, not that it was in the best of shape as it was after an evening of romping with frat boy up there.  She unlocked her car, opened the door and plopped into the drivers seat.  A turn of the key and she would be gone.  She watched the strange man continue on, never breaking stride or looking her way.  She felt a small measure of relief as she turned the key.

The car obediently cranked the engine, but never fired.  With terse frustration she tried again, still it wouldn’t fire.  Her headlights worked, the radio came on, the engine turned over but the damned thing wouldn’t start.  What the hell?  Again, and again she tried, short bursts; long bursts; but nothing seemed to work.  “Isn’t this great?” she thought to herself.  Now she would have to go wake sleeping beauty and get him to take a look, or maybe just crash here, he wasn’t the most mechanically inclined.

There came a knock on her window as she nearly jumped out of her skin, she had not been expecting that.  It was the strange man in the dark coat, he had come back to her car and it was him knocking on the window.  She got a better look at his face, he was wearing glasses, small lenses held tight to his face above a pointed beard and mustache.  He was older than her, but it was hard to tell by how much.  He seemed to have a kind face, with the most beautiful gray eyes she had ever seen. She could hear him faintly through the rain and window.

“Are you alright?” he called. He had a slight accent, but she couldn’t place it.

She thought about waving him off, telling him to leave, but realized that she was being silly.  Naturally there were some good people left in the world and after all, she was feeling desperate.  She rolled down her window ever so much and said “It won’t start.”

“So I heard young miss,” he replied. “I could hear you turning it over and I thought you might need assistance.”  His words were slow and steady.

She thought for a moment, and in that instant made the call that she shouldn’t do the whole gift horse mouth looking thing, and see if this guy could get her on her way.  “Do you know anything about cars?” she asked.

“A little bit, would you like me to take a look?” he asked.

“Do you mind?” she said.

He just smiled warmly, which eased her fears a little, motioned to the hood and moved to the front of the car.  She pulled the hood release and he raised it, letting it rest on the prop.  She waited while he examined the engine, not really able to see what was going on behind the hood.  After a moment he came back to her window and said, “I think I see the problem, you need to take a look at this.”

“Really?”  she replied.

“Yes,” he answered “I might be able to fix it, but you need to see what happened so you can explain it to whoever works on your car.  You will need to get it fixed proper, in the near time.”

She reluctantly opened the door and stepped back into the rain, it wasn’t any worse but it sure hadn’t let up either.  She went to the front of the car where he was again standing.  He was pointing to some wires that dangled lazily, “Here, this is your problem.” He said as she wondered what the point of this was, she didn’t know shit about cars.

“What’s that?” she asked, feigning interest in the hopes that he would go ahead and fix the car and she could get going.

“That is where the spark distributor should be,” he said “see all those wires hanging there?”

“Um, yeah, what does that mean?” she asked impatiently, this wasn’t the time for a class.

“That means you should not be leaving your car unlocked.” he said with a smile.  She wasn’t sure where this was going, but she was pretty sure she had locked her car, and didn’t see how that was relevant anyway.

“What?” she said, half confused and half irritated.

“You should not be leaving your car unlocked,” he said again, a little slower.  She saw motion from his left hand, as he drew it out of his pocket, holding a round cup like object with metal prongs on it.  He spoke again, but his voice was different this time, lower and  more guttural, like he had a couple days worth of phlegm built up in his throat.  “I snatched this from your car earlier young miss,” he almost growled. “I watched you go into the building there, you are a lovely young lady you know.” He was still smiling at her, “I made sure to lock the car when I was finished, one cannot be too careful.”

Fear.  It welled up within her, fast but not fast enough.  As the realization that he was not the nice man she presumed him to be, made it’s way to her brain, it was too late.  Her large blue eyes locked on his stunning gray eyes as he moved, moved so fast she hardly noticed.  Before she could comprehend, a hairy hand with claws where the fingernails should be was grasping her throat.  She could see his face had changed, taking on an almost canine like demeanor in the darkness.  He was squeezing her throat tightly, not enough to choke her, but enough to keep her from screaming.

“Do not worry young miss” he growled, sounding like an old man gargling gravel and broken glass.  “I will not make you suffer.”

He licked her face with a long and prickly feeling tongue.

“Much.”  he added.

With that, he tore off into the night, carrying her cradled in his arms as if she weighed nothing at all.  She could feel the strength in his arms, a power like she hadn’t felt before, power and strength and grace that was nothing like her frat boy lover.  She cried silent screams as she was carried away.  No one could hear them, but he could feel them, making him all the more excited.

It made the end that much worse for her.

* * *

The alarm clock cried out and woke Albert.  He glanced at the clock, noting the time with a measure of satisfaction.  No over sleeping for him today.  It was with no small amount of fear that he dared examined his arms and legs, letting relief settle over him at seeing bare clean skin, free from the mud of the previous morning.

Albert had coffee brewing as he showered, enjoying a more relaxed pace on this day.  It was on the way to the University that the chill set upon him, hearing the startling news on the radio.

There had been an attack the night before, the brutal and barbaric killing of a local college girl.  She had not been reported missing, but had been found that morning by a local cleanup crew working the early shift at the park.  No details were forthcoming over the radio, which meant it was probably bad.  Any time the local news personalities decided not to jump on the details of a story, it was because they were just too gruesome and graphic to make the air waves.  That wasn’t a good sign.  What had he done he thought?  He was certain he had maintained control last night.

He jammed the car into a lower gear and sped off to the school, getting there early for a change.  With the extra time, he called a friend at the Sheriff’s office, someone he knew he could get some details from.

“Sheriff’s office, detective Smith speaking.” a voice said on the other end of the line.

“John,” said Albert “I never get bored with the irony that a detective has a name like John Smith, it could only be better if it were John Doe.”

The voice on the other end didn’t miss a beat, “Albert Hall, the hardest working man in school business, how are ya?” came the retort.

“I’m fine John.  I was wondering if I could ask a favor?”

“Asking is always free, Albert, what’s on your mind?” Asked the detective.

“Well, I heard about the body that was found this morning, and I was wanting to get some more details.”

There was a pause from Detective Smith, and then “Why would you be interested in that, Albert?”

“Curiosity I guess, but too, it seemed to ring similar to a crime I heard about when I lived up north, guess it got me thinking, that’s all.” said Albert.

“No harm to tell you I reckon, I know you sure as hell didn’t do it.”  Detective Smith continued, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say some wild animal, like a bear or something did this.”

Albert posed the question on his mind, “I have to ask, why do you say you know better?”

“Because bears don’t rape their victims.  This was savage Al, worst I ever seen.  Hell worst thing I even heard of.” said Detective Smith.  “That ain’t the half of it, this poor girl was found in the park, disemboweled and left on one of the picnic tables.  To be honest, it looks like after he was done with her he gutted her like a fish.  It’s sick.  It looks like parts are missing even, we’re still trying to sort it out.”

Albert could hear the disgust, trepidation, and even a small amount of fear lingering on his friend’s voice.  The conversation turned to silence, neither man speaking.

“I have to go John, thanks for the information.” Albert finally said.

Detective Smith added quickly “Now don’t you go blabbing this to no one, you hear?  And be sure to let me know if you see or hear anything, or if you have anything to add once your mind gets to working on whatever happened up north.”

“You know it.”  said Albert quickly, and the two men exchanged goodbye’s and hung up.

Albert knew what this was, what had happened, it had to be.  He didn’t want to think about it, much less admit it, but he knew he was only fooling himself.  He was sure he hadn’t done it, there wasn’t a mark on him this morning.  The odds that a random criminal would perform like that were remote at best.  He didn’t have the exact details, but had heard enough.  They must have found him.  Already.  Damn they work fast.  It had to be when he slipped and let the beast out to play.  They must have felt it and come for him.  He was after all, not on their list of favorites.  He knew then, that the death of that girl was ultimately on his hands.

He could run as he had before, but that would leave the people of this town open for slaughter.  Damn.  He had been so careful for so long, and now all of it was screwed up.  Why the hell had he been careless?  Worst of all, he still didn’t know how it happened.  If he left now, ran before facing them, they would kill every man, woman and child in this town in retribution.  He doubted they would stop at just killing too, it would be as bad as that poor girl in the park.  He knew them, they enjoyed the games before the kill, which was one reason he wasn’t one of them and why they hated him so.

* * *

The University canceled classes that day, this was a small town and too many people were still in shock.  Albert new it would be pointless to stay at the school and besides, he had other things to do.  He had to figure out what he was going to do to deal with those who came to hunt him.  At least the full moon was over with, so he didn’t have to worry about letting the monster loose for a while.  The latest concoction he had made during his late nights in the lab, his attempt at subduing the beast, obviously needed some tweaking.  At least now, he had almost a month to work on it, assuming he was still alive when the next full moon showed itself in the night sky.

He wondered how many they had sent for him.  Knowing the arrogance of his feral family, he was sure they would send only one, and he was quite certain he would find himself correct as to which one it was.

Albert had worked over the years to blend his human form into the rest of the world, casting aside his heritage.  He hated what he was and longed for normalcy.  To not stand out would be one of but a few advantages that he had.  Those who were after him didn’t know his name, the name he was using that is, and he was hopeful they wouldn’t recognize him either.  In any case, he knew he would have to be ready to join them and return home, to the land of his ancestors, or fight and quite possibly die.  He knew that if he ran the town was doomed.  He feared if he fought and fell, they would still be doomed.

Albert left the University and went back to his home.  He didn’t know what else to do, and it seemed the best place for him to form a plan.  Pulling in his driveway and exiting his car, walking to the steps leading up to his porch with his mind deep in thought.  He didn’t notice the man sitting on his front porch until he was halfway up the steps.  Startled, Albert looked at the man, stopping his gait with surprise, realization and fear.  He tried, and hoped he succeeded, to mask what was running through his mind.  If he blew this encounter, it would all be over almost before it had begun.

“May I help you, sir?” called Albert, as relaxed and innocently as he could muster.

The man on the porch wore a long dark coat from an era time had forgotten, he looked lean and solid.  Weathered hands rested upon the arms of the rocking chair as intense gray eyes looked out from a short wide brimmed hat.  The face was framed by a dark mustache and beard that wandered past his chin, coming to a point.  Both were touched with silver at the edges.  The strange man didn’t say anything at first, and Albert stepped closer by one step.  He prepared to say something else, he thought about reacting as a normal citizen would and feigning anger or threatening to call the police, but he knew this would serve no benefit.  Before he could get his thoughts together enough to speak, the man uttered but one word.

“Dragomir.” The man spoke slowly, precisely.  He had a deep voice that sent a shiver down Albert’s spine.  He knew that voice all to well, his hunch had been right, they sent who he thought, or perhaps, feared it would be.

Albert again replied as innocently as he could. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You know what I said brother, do not play games with me.” replied the man, his accent thick from the old country.  “Are you surprised to see me?  You think we did not know you come to anglo country America?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, please get off my porch and leave my property before …”

“Before what?!” the man snapped, interrupting Albert.  “Are you going to call your precious police?  You no longer fight your own battles?  You surely have not lived up to your name Dragomir.”

“I … I … You have to leave, you are trespassing!” urged Albert.

“You are still a coward I see.  You will not fight then?” said the man, as he rose from the chair, “Have it your way.”

Albert tensed.

“It’s been a long time,” said the man. “I still have fond memories brother, of you and I and our family in Romania, many years in the past.”  He began to walk down the steps towards Albert.  “For this reason,” he said, as Albert looked on, riveted to the spot where he stood.  “I will spare you today, I will give you some time to think about the situation in which you have placed yourself, some time to come to your senses.”  The man stopped right in front of Albert, looking him in the eyes with a fierce confidence as Albert stood mute, unable to form a coherent retort.

“You will see me again brother, you know this to be true,” the man said.  “Next time, I will not be so forgiving.”  The man turned, pivoting on his left foot, and walked away.  Albert stared at the spot where his eyes had been, still in stunned silence.

After a moment, he turned to see the man walk away but he was gone.

It was worse than he thought.  He was right about who had been sent for him, but he had thought they would not know where or who he was so precisely, at least not this soon.  How the hell?  But it was no use now, here he had been, face to face with his brother for the first time in decades.  Albert swooned, feeling weak in the knees as his past came flooding back to him.  All the years in his home land with his family, coming to realize that he hated being a monster, and coming to realize that they hated him because of that.

There was a certain irony in there somewhere, he was born into this family of monsters, and while they trained and worked to make the monster more powerful, he had fled and spent his life working to rid himself of the monster.  He knew in their eyes he had disgraced the family, and that family loyalty ran deep.  They must have been biding their time, knowing more about him than he realized.  Maybe hoping one day he would come around and rejoin the fold.  He knew though, that in the end they would rather see him dead than a disgrace.

Albert had to make some sense of the situation, he had to figure out what to do.  On one hand, he thought he should give himself up.  He knew he couldn’t go back and be a part of the family, he just wasn’t capable of it.  Maybe he should sacrifice himself so the people of this little town may live, but even then he didn’t know if that would be enough to spare them.  He could fight, but he knew his brother was a much more capable fighter.  Any confrontation of that nature would be little more than the same sacrifice he already thought about.  He decided to go inside and rest, clear his head and take stock of his situation.  There had to be a solution somewhere.

As he worked through the situation in his mind, he thought about home.  He remembered his family and homeland.  He missed the land he grew up in, and he even missed his family, but he did not miss what they and he himself were.  He could not go back to a life of killing, whether for survival, pleasure or indiscriminately, he didn’t have that in him.  That meant returning to the Nishka clan in Romania was not an option.  He could not change that he was born a werewolf, but he could control his actions.  He thought he could control his life, but it appeared his family, and most recently his brother Raluca, thought otherwise.

His thoughts soon turned to loneliness, it wasn’t fun and games being a monster in a modern world.  In the country of his family, there was room and the family castle, it was easy to survive there, they were powerful.  Here, in America, he was nobody and there was no privacy anywhere.  He had to always be careful.  He stayed on guard and kept his privacy paramount.  For that reason he had never taken the company of a woman.  Yes, he could have taken any woman he wanted by force, but that just was not him.  Albert was not capable of that.  Maybe his brother had been right all those years ago, maybe he was weak and had let his human side overtake what his brother called his real self, what Albert called the monster.

He couldn’t help but settle his thoughts on Allison Wanderly, the beautiful and brainy girl that sat in the front row of his class.  He knew that she had liked him for some time, and he her, but he had always stayed away.  There was a connection there though, and he thought they both knew it.  She had been the first that he felt or maybe it was hoped that he might could share his secret with.  It was fear that kept him away.  Fear of rejection maybe, or of being exposed, although he could always run again if need be.  Maybe it was fear of her actually accepting him, he had been alone for almost fifty years after all.  Either way, it seemed to be a moot point now.  He longed for her, to have someone to confide in and be with, to comfort and protect and have her comfort him as well.  He wept as he lay on the hardwood floor pounding it with his fists.  Maybe, he thought, sacrifice wasn’t a bad option after all.

After what seemed like forever, he succumbed to the stress and exhaustion and he slept, still sprawled on the floor.

* * *

The storm from the previous night had left a blanket of clouds in the sky.  The moon and stars hid behind the clouds in an eternal game of hide and seek.  It was very dark, as if the land had been draped in wet black velvet.

It did not matter, he did not need the moon to transform.  He had not needed the moon to become his true self in decades, that was the handicap of children, not men, not warriors.  He could transform between his lupine and human form at will in mere seconds.  He had worked hard to hone his skills, and could transform part way or even selected parts of his body.  It had taken years to master the finer points of the transformation arts, however, it was a skill that had proved beneficial to own.

Raluca prowled the lonely town, from rooftops to alleyways, all of the dark nooks and crannies that scare children to go into, and with good reason.

He thought of his brother as he hunted, he could not understand why he would choose to live among these people rather than his own kind.  Did his brother, Dragomir Nishka, actually prefer these weak pale excuses for life?  It boggled his mind as he could not fathom choosing weakness over power.

He was incensed from his encounter with his brother, and he wanted blood.  He would reign terror on this town until his thirst for revenge was sated.  This land had corrupted his brother, made him weak and a disgrace to his name.  There would be many who would pay before he was through.

* * *

This was it, Tom thought.  This was the night he would finally score with his steady.  He had been waiting, wanting this night for a long time.  He didn’t want to rush anything but let’s face it, a man has needs.  He had been dating Becky for several months with nothing more than some kissing and fondling, she wasn’t the type to give it up easily.  So, he was patient, kept chipping away at the stone until she was ready to give herself to him.  He knew it was the right time, she was the right one, he was the right one, everything was perfect.

They had come down the old Wilson Fire Trail and that put them within a half mile of the river.  A short hike, half hour to setup the tent and make camp, fishing and dinner, and now let the games begin.  The campfire dozed a glowing orange pile of embers as Tom and Becky lay next to each other on the outstretched sleeping bag.  Each entwined in the other, lost in the passionate kiss that only new lovers can enjoy.  They were both wrapped in the folds of anticipation; a culmination of what seemed like years of waiting and yearning; all to be fulfilled tonight.

As he kissed her and she kissed him, long and hard, she was lost in his touch and he was lost in ecstasy.  So much so that neither had any idea they were being watched.  Though the predator closed ranks with the stealthy skill of a sphinx, it hardly mattered as his quarry was oblivious to their surroundings.

At first, she thought Tom was getting awfully rough, and way too fast at that.  There would be time for that, but not the first time.  She would have to talk to him about that if he didn’t chill out.  Then she realized it wasn’t his hand grasping the back of her neck harder than she liked.  As she opened her eyes, and she could see the look of shock and horror played out on Tom’s face as he was wrenched backwards, away from her.  What the hell?  It all was happening so fast she couldn’t get her mind to register what was going on.  This was all wrong.  Where was the kissing and holding and love making they had waited so long for?

The hand on her neck was like an iron vise, she couldn’t move her head.  She focused on something above her, something between her and Tom now.  It looked like some kind of animal, some bastard offspring of wolf and man.  It was dark and hard to see, that had to be the reason.  It was evil, large and strong, oh so strong.  The eyes, she saw them now and it was amazing, this thing had the most stunning gray eyes.

It took Tom a few moments to realize what was happening, the shock of the interruption stunned him.  He saw it plainly now, Becky was next to him, and some type of dog thing was holding his throat.  Like something you would see at the dollar drive in on Thursday night Fright night.  What the fuck was going on?  Had he fallen asleep and was dreaming this?  He couldn’t breathe well, it was hard to move air through the hold on his throat.  He pawed at the hairy monstrous hand that held him.  The grip was unmovable, it wouldn’t budge and he was slowly becoming all too aware this wasn’t a dream.

Raluca relished the surprise, the fear, the look on their face as it slowly dawned on them that they were not in Kansas anymore.  So slow they were, these weak bags of flesh.  They were hardly worthy opponents, but they were entertainment while he waited on his brother.  Raluca fed on fear, and the fear emanating from these two was intoxicating.  The girl was not unattractive for her kind, he would enjoy her soon enough.  The boy was no match for him, he was inconsequential.

Pulling them together he drew them in close, holding them both tightly by the neck so he could see each one equally.  His body radiated power and confidence, the hair on his arms, hands and legs bristled with sweat.  How he loved the hunt.  A low rumble came from his throat, “What have we here?”  Tom tried to speak but couldn’t make much more than a wheeze through the iron grip on his throat.  Becky tried to scream, but barely a whisper escaped hers.

Raluca laughed, a heinous and foul laugh, the laugh of a child molester set loose upon the schoolyard.  This was what he lived for; fear and power.  Total, utter and complete dominance of his prey.

He bounced the girl off the ground hard and quick, then let her fall back stunned.  She didn’t resist as he ripped her shirt from the collar down, tearing through the fabric with his claws, scratching flesh in a few places.  The remnants of the clothing fell away exposing an adequate bosom.  Firm, young and supple, she would do nicely.

Tom tried to resist, tried to fight back, tried to break free but couldn’t budge the hard line around his throat.  He tried to punch and kick and scream and yell, hating the arousal he felt at the exposition of his lover’s breast.  He could only squirm and watch in rapt horror as this beast used his fair love for his enjoyment, like a pit bull with a newspaper, sating his desires and destroying her in the process before turning to finish him too.  The grin carried by the beast told no lies, Tom knew this was exactly what he had intended.  Not just to kill him, but to make him watch the obscenities bestowed upon his Becky, finally granting her last wish to just die and get it over with.

It was then that Raluca locked his gaze with Tom’s, forcing his free hand into his chest at the top of his ribcage.  He heard the pathetic screams and gracious snaps as he grasped tightly and wrenched the bony prize from Tom’s body, leaving the lungs exposed, heart still beating for a final moment as blood coursed over the ground.  Tom’s eyes were open wide with surprise and horror, before becoming a blank and vacant stare.

Raluca stood and examined the night’s work.  She hadn’t been bad at all, almost a shame she didn’t hold together longer.  Alas, that was the problem with these weak ones, they break too easily he thought.  This ought to give the precious police something to talk about, he doubted they had seen a spectacle such as this before.  He chuckled.  More importantly, it would give his brother a most clear message, and hopefully would spurn him to action.

Without a second thought, Raluca sprinted away into the night, momentarily satisfied.

* * *

Albert hadn’t moved from his effigial spot on the floor as he slowly found himself waking.  It took some effort, but he came around.  He wondered what time it was, from the darkness at his windows it was surely somewhere in the late night, early morning hours.  He cursed at allowing himself to wallow in self pity and damn near passing out on the floor.  He had wasted precious time and was no nearer a solution to his dilemma.

As he rose and stumbled to the sink for a taste of water, he could feel a strange pull on his psyche, as if some layer of his subconscious was on fire about something.  A pull in all directions but yet no specific one, it was strange and yet familiar.  With a few moments thought, he realized what it was.  It was his brother, closer to him than he had been in years he was feeling that familial bond with his kin.  Then a deeper understanding hit him, the nagging feeling would mean that his brother was hunting, no doubt killing innocent people as he stood here, helpless and stupid in his kitchen.

He made up his mind, he really had no choice any way he ran it around in his head, he would have to confront and even fight his brother.  To do anything less would surely kill more innocent people, and he couldn’t live with that.  He, Albert, was not the monster that his brother was.  If he died, at least there was a chance for the people in this town.  He had already put them in danger, and even brought harm and death to them as well.

He thought again of Allison and cursed himself for being afraid.  Of never reaching out to her, at least he could have taken those sweet memories to the grave instead of the empty wishes he now carried.

It was settled then, he would find his brother and confront him.  If reason did not work, and it was not expected to, he would fight and even die to save the people of this town, his lovely Allison, and his own moral code.  It should have felt a noble deed, but it felt shallow and paled when he compared it to the poor dead college girl.

* * *

Terror can grip a small town quickly.  The afternoon of the next day, two local men out fishing on the Kayknee river found a campsite and what was left of the bodies of a man and woman.  At this ghastly discovery, panic struck the town like a sledgehammer finds a splitting maul.  This was a small and peaceful town, nothing bad happens here and everyone says so, therefore it must be true.  Yet here we had two gruesome killings, mutilations, sexual desecrations, you name it.  Three people dead in just two days.  Something evil was out there, and everyone was afraid of it.

Except the media, they couldn’t stop talking about it.  Newspapers, radio, television, there didn’t seem to be any media outlet that could leave it alone.  Hell, even the local religious station was calling it the work of the devil and a sign of the coming apocalypse.  Others theorized it was the work of illegal aliens infiltrating the country, or terrorists making a statement to the world through backwoods USA.  Everyone had an opinion, and everyone was wrong, it’s just that everyone didn’t know it yet.

Albert knew that his hunch about that nagging feeling was right, his brother had been hunting last night and he felt responsible yet again.  This was more gruesome than even Albert had seen before, his brother had stooped to new heights of depravity, and Albert wondered if mother would have approved.

These events worked to reinforce his decision to confront his brother.  He was certain that given long enough his brother would find him again, and he was just as certain he would not have to wait long.  Albert waited, if impatiently, at his home for his brother to return.

He was right, he didn’t have to wait long.

As the sun set and evening made it’s presence known, the night chill began it’s slow creep inward.  Albert was the one sitting in the chair this time, as Raluca walked down the street and turned onto the sidewalk in front of Albert’s home.  He lazily yet purposefully made his way up the walk, pausing at the bottom of the steps, taking in his brother who was watching him from the roost that was the front porch.  Albert was not afraid this time, no false pretenses to try and hold up, no games, no worries, just he and his brother, and Albert had already resigned himself to his death.

Raluca simply looked up at his brother, a wry knowing smile on his face.  It was Albert’s turn to speak first this time.  “I see you have been busy, brother.”  said Dragomir, slipping into his native Romanian tongue.

A mixture of surprise and pleasure flashed on Raluca’s face as he responded. “One must make a statement.” he said, as he gave a slight bow.  “It helps when one enjoys one’s own work so much as I do.”

“I’m not going to come with you.” offered Albert.

“If that truly is your decision, then that is a shame my brother.” Raluca replied.

“I am not the monster that you are, I cannot commit these atrocities that you call a statement, not once nor especially day in and day out.” cried Albert. “Can’t you understand that and leave me alone?”

“The definition of monster is made by the definer.  Some people would call a doctor a monster, because he would cut living flesh rather than simply offer prayer and sacrifice.” answered Raluca.  “To anyone who is a true werewolf, I am not a monster.  The real monster is the human who killed my brother, and left me ” he continued mockingly “Albert Hall.”

Albert said nothing, and Raluca continued “You could not have chosen a more bland name for yourself Dragomir, especially when you were so great.  Now, look at you.  You have lost all traces of your heritage.  When we felt the transformation, it was hoped that you had come to your senses and returned to your true self.  Instead, I see a weak disgrace to our family.  You call me a monster, and yet you do not see how you make mother weep.”

Albert was silent, he had nothing else to say really.  The mentioning of his mother cut deep, but he tried to hide it.

“If you refuse to embrace your true self and come home, my brother, I will have been left no choice but to destroy you and end the family disgrace here, once and for all.  I will not see mother cry again, nor do I care to see father curse the night and hate his loins for spawning you.” decried Raluca.

Albert knew his father despised him as long as he was a disgrace to the family, that was no surprise, but hearing it didn’t make it easier.

Raluca made one final statement, “I grow weary.  Once again I go, so I can make ready for my journey home, with you, or your body.  I cannot say it matters not to me, however, I will feel no remorse for killing you, erasing the blight on our family tree, for in that case my brother is already dead.”

Raluca turned and walked away, as lazily as he had come.  Albert, for all of his plans to give up his life, was left stunned, caught in a rather pale anti climax left hanging high, still wondering if he had made the right decisions.

* * *

Albert knew that his brother would not hunt tonight, not if he still maintained any of his old habits.  Before any real fight, not simple hunting necessarily, but serious conflict, he would rest.  He would conserve his strength and build energy to prepare for the upcoming fight.  Albert was sure he would be doing the same tonight before coming for him tomorrow.  Despite the reprieve today, Albert knew his time was short; that his brother would not have mercy on him again.  Albert knew he was not the fighter that Raluca was, but he was still a full blood werewolf, and he could still put up a fight.  His brother would rest.

Albert decided he should do the same, resting and building every ounce of power and energy he could muster.  He would need all he could get before the fight tomorrow.

There was another problem, Albert had never actually tried to transform into werewolf form without a full moon.  Oh, it had happened before, but not purposely.  He knew Raluca could transform, and if he wanted any chance at the fight, he would have to as well.  The only way he could imagine getting close to this ability, to transform without the moon and it’s magical effects, was to cast off his human captor and find his true self.  The self that he hadn’t engaged purposely in a very long time.

Dragomir sat on the floor in his kitchen, eyes closed and arms by his side, facing the window that peered out into the night.  He slowed his breathing and relaxed, it was almost as if he were meditating.  He let his mind go, released his cares, worries and inhibitions.  Albert Hall was gone now, all that was left was Dragomir.

He envisioned the transformation, the hair sprouting from his arms, legs, fingers and toes.  He imagined the claws that sprouted where his fingernails now stood.  He visualized his face changing, elongating and filling with long sharp teeth while his ears lengthened and changed shape, becoming more acute and attuned to his surroundings.  He could feel the twisted knots of muscle forming around his bones and under his skin as he grew bigger, stronger, meaner.  He thought of his brother, his upcoming fight, his father and his disgrace.  He didn’t have to imagine the pain that accompanied the transformation, he had never gotten used to that.

Saliva dripped from his mouth, now a long snout of menace exposing large white fangs that gleamed in the light.  Before he realized his visions had become real, he had transformed into full werewolf form there on the floor.

He felt strong and powerful.  He tried resisting the feeling, but he liked it.  No, he loved it.  Albert had hated the beast, but Dragomir was the beast, and he had forgotten what it was like to be the beast.   To pulse with raw power and energy, to be all but immortal.  He was ready for the fight, or more ready than he thought he would be before.  He concentrated on building his reserves, but also stretching and moving, practicing if you will.  His wolf form was like a suit of armor that hadn’t been used in some time, it needed some oil and polish to be at it’s best.

Dragomir was running the show now, Albert somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, left with nothing else to do but reflect and dream.  Naturally he settled on that which pleased him, the lovely Allison.  If only she could see him at his finest, strong and sleek, more muscular than any jock in school, she would really want him then.  He was sure she already did, but now she would throw herself at him, he knew it, he was the power in the universe.

* * *

Allison sat at a table in the library, books piled high on one side and strewn on the other.  The University might have canceled classes, but she still had term papers due, exams to prepare for, reports to turn in, homework, you name it.  If anything, despite the sorrow of peoples deaths, this gave her a wonderful opportunity to catch up on her studies.

She had missed getting to see Professor Hall these last couple of days, and she hoped he wasn’t ill.  He had canceled classes even before the University did, and that was unlike him.  She thought maybe he had been upset by the news lately, but then again, weren’t we all.

She didn’t understand him sometimes, she could flirt with him and he would act like he liked her, but never took the next step.  Maybe he was worried about getting caught, but she knew it hadn’t stopped a few other teachers in the past, even in high school.  She smiled as she thought about that A she indeed earned in Mr. Greene’s Biology class.  No dissecting frogs for her, instead she let him dissect her, so to speak.  It had been worth it she thought, she hated frogs.

Still nothing from Professor Hall though, maybe she was slipping, losing her touch.  Yet it was different with him, he woke parts of her that were more than physical, and besides; she already had a good grade in his class, she didn’t need to fuck for it.  Maybe he was an enigma to her, or it was just that he was so damn nice and kind and charming.  Maybe it was simply that she couldn’t have him.  Whatever it was, she wanted more from him than a one night wham bam have a good night here is your A thank you very much stand.

As she thought about him, she considered going to his place and checking on him.  It hadn’t been hard to get his address and even directions off of the ‘net.  She had almost stopped before, had driven by several times but been too afraid to hit the brakes, throw the car into park and march up to his door.  Why not now?  All classes had been canceled this week, they both had plenty of time, despite her studying.  If she was lucky, they could have several fun days before classes restarted next week.  She felt evil thinking about taking advantage of other people’s misfortune for her own pleasure, but she couldn’t control the events of the world.

She decided to run with the idea before her courage faded.  She gathered up an armload of books, tossed them into her bag and was out the door before she could think better of the idea.

* * *

Evening was coming, and as the night crept forward, his power would only grow.  Raluca stood in a strange pose of bent knees and outstretched hands in a trance like state, shifting his hands to his knees as he concentrated.  He was deep in untraveled parts of the forest but well traveled parts of his own mind.  He did not expect much of a fight from his brother, but he would take no chances, he was a Nishka after all.  Raluca was determined to be ready for whatever challenge his brother might pose.

* * *

Dragomir sat, resting and almost dreaming, gathering his courage for the upcoming melee.  He again rested on the kitchen floor, breathing slow, deep and heavy breaths.

* * *

The lime green gremlin rolled to a squeaky stop in front of the home of Professor Albert Hall.  “OK, be calm.” she reassured herself.  She checked her face in the mirror, making sure she didn’t have any makeup smudged or hair askew, the right amount of cleavage showing.  Too much and she was a slut, not enough and she would never get laid, flirting was an art.  She got out of the car and shut the door.  She primped and straightened her pants, making sure all was where it should be.  Butterflies were performing somersaults in her stomach as she walked up the steps to his front door.  She took a deep breath, hoping upon hope that he wouldn’t turn her away.

With a gentle nervousness, she knocked on the door.  There was no answer.  It was quiet tonight, it almost felt eerie. She knocked again, and still there was no answer.  That was odd she thought, because his car was here and besides, she knew from talking to him that he was a homebody, if he wasn’t at school he was almost never anywhere but here at home.

She decided to risk a turn of the door knob and struck pay dirt.  The knob turned and she eased open the door, ever so slightly.  She could see a light in the kitchen, but the main entrance, a living room she presumed, was empty and almost dark as the light waned from outside.

“Professor Hall?” she called.  There was no reply.  Naturally.

She pondered what to do, but her courage or foolishness; she didn’t know which; was getting the best of her so she eased the door open a tad more.

“Professor Hall?  Are you hear?” she called again, and again there was no reply.

Allison ventured a step into the entrance, opening the door wider, enough to fit her tight compact frame through.  She smelled a funny odor, faint but there, like a dog just come in from a new rain.  Funny, she thought, Professor Hall didn’t have a dog, not that she knew of that is.  She scolded herself, for all of her talking to him, it’s not like she knew it all, right?  Her brain had a thought about it not having rained in a day or two, but she didn’t seem to get the message.

She didn’t like the thought of trespassing, but she had a strange curiosity in her that wouldn’t let her leave.  Like a moth to the flame, she went towards the only light in the house.  As she stepped into the kitchen she could see Professor Hall sitting in the floor.  It was hard to make him out from the back, his clothes didn’t look to fit right, they were tight and even ripped in some places.  His head was down and all she could see was his back and the backs of his arms and hips, but something looked out of place.

“Professor?  Albert?  Are you sick?” she asked.

She heard a grunt and was afraid he was choking or poisoned and she ran to his side grabbing his arm.  She recoiled slightly, Professor Hall was not an unfit man, but there were muscles here that shouldn’t be.  That musty dog odor was stronger here too.  She paused for a moment, torn between fear and concern.  Something wasn’t right.

As she stepped back, she could see him stir.

“Professor?” she asked, weak.

He stood and turned in one fluid motion.  His legs lifting him like a scissor jack, his face like something out of her nightmares.  She stood paralyzed, looking at him, seeing the resemblance to her dear Professor, the magnificent silver eyes, but also seeing the mangled and distorted body that was now a hideous monster before her.

She tried to run, but either she was too slow, perhaps not moving at all in her state, or maybe it was just that fast.  It caught her by her arms, holding her tight as her scream spilled from her lips like milk upon a cold stone floor.

* * *

A small sliver of what used to be Albert became cognizant of a presence in the room.  Prying through the layers of anger and power and hate he could see something, or perhaps someone, was there.

The years of captivity had made controlling the wolf hard, add to that the encounters with his brother, thoughts of his mother and father and his emotions were running rampant.  The beast owned him this night.

Still, Albert wanted to see who had entered his home, or was his mind; what was left and reachable; just playing tricks on him again.  He continued to push through the wolf, just enough to see who was there.

It was with sheer terror that he realized it was Allison, the hidden forbidden love interest in his class, the one he had been fantasizing about all these months.  This excited him, which in turn excited the wolf.  It began to dawn on Albert that he did not control the wolf anymore, he couldn’t stop it.  It was like having a window seat on board the Titanic.

Albert could see Allison trembling through the monsters eyes, he could see the fear and shock etched upon her face, as if her likeness had been carved from marble in permanent terror.  Albert could feel Dragomir lusting for her, wanting her, having been caged for such a long time.  Albert was terrified, he didn’t want his love to be harmed.  Albert was jealous, if anyone was to have her it should be him, not the beast.

“Professor!  No!” she screamed as she tried to wrench her arms free from the steel grip that was Dragomir’s hands.  It was absolutely no contest, he held firm and she went nowhere.

Dragomir shoved her sideways to one counter, pinning her there with his large muscular frame.  She let slip a groan as he pressed against her.  Albert was screaming inside his own head, pleading for the monster to stop, begging for this not to go down the path which it had already started.

Oblivious to Albert, Dragomir grabbed the shirt covering the top half of Allison’s body and ripped it off like tissue paper on a holiday present.

“No!” she screamed with all the force of a butterfly resisting a hurricane.

Dragomir did not stop, as the rest of her clothing went much the same way.  Allison fought her master as Albert sobbed; screamed; begged and threatened.  Her pleas for help and mercy went unheard by the madman, the beast that violated her.  Albert’s cries went ignored by the monster he had caged, that now seized the opportunity for freedom with a vengeance, as if he would never be free again.

Dragomir pinned her to the floor as he tore her body, relishing her sobs, protests and suffering.  Albert crumbled into a mental puddle of anguish and despair as all he could do was watch and plead uselessly.

At his climax, Dragomir ripped the throat from young Allison’s neck, a final scream bubbling from her as she died.  Upon this final act of ecstatic rage, Dragomir was fully in control and Albert, for all intents and purposes died as well, there was no going back for the beast now.  Any semblance of human frailties, morals or good nature were gone.  The beast had been pushed down and cast aside for so long, that he would no longer be held at bay, he would never be denied again.  Dragomir killed Allison and Albert both that night, as they joined one another in the ethos, both victims and conspirators alike.

* * *

The day was warm and the skies were clear, all in all a pretty day.  A bird sang a recognizable melody nearby as a light breeze tousled the hair of Raluca, walking along the sidewalk towards his brother’s home.  He was surprised to see his brother coming out the front door, as he was turning to make the trek up the front steps.  His brother looked well, better than in the previous two days.  It was a noticeable difference that took Raluca a moment to adjust to.  He was clean, well dressed with a bag over his shoulder, even looking rested and … there it was, confident.  A measure of confidence was there that hadn’t shown itself yesterday.

“Are you ready to die a pointless death my brother?” Raluca asked, adding “Excuse me, Albert?” in a sarcastic tone.

A full and rich voice answered back, in a small laugh, “Albert is dead brother, it is time to rejoin the family.”

Shock.  Amusement.  Wariness.  Raluca was almost stunned, and nonetheless silent for just a moment.  He was not sure what games Dragomir might be trying to play, he kept his guard up.

“Surely you know I will question hearing those words?” answered Raluca.

“Don’t question my brother.” Dragomir said, as if stating a fact from one of Albert’s beloved text books.  “I guess I am the monster I thought I wasn’t, and have been all along.  Albert couldn’t take it so he left.”

Raluca sized up his brother skeptically, not sure of what to make of this.  “I see.” was all Raluca could muster.

“I knew you would question my brother, but I have some answers for you.” said Dragomir.  He shifted the bag on his shoulder to his elbow, opened it and reached for something inside.  “Here, she can vouch for me.” he said, as he pulled Allison Wanderly’s head from the bag, frozen in a tortured silent scream.

Raluca looked at the item in Dragomir’s hand admiringly, but didn’t miss a step.  “Nice,” he said, smiling, “did she put up a fight?”

Dragomir smiled as well.  “Just enough to be enjoyable.” he answered as he put the head back inside the bag, tossing it carelessly on the front porch.

Raluca smiled at his brother, “Let us go then, we have many years to catch up on.  Mother and father will be proud, and I do believe even sister Ecaterina has missed you.”

The brothers strode off down the sidewalk, returning to a land that time had forgotten.  Where monsters still live in castles, and nightmares still come true.