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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/profile/blog/lu-man/day/12-8-2023
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Rated: 18+ · Book · Horror/Scary · #2284649
Adventures In Living With The Mythical
A military veteran is adopted by a werewolf and brought into his pack. Insanity ensues.

About "Life With A Werewolf"

Life with a werewolf is a dramatic blog. As such the characters in this blog are not real but maybe loosely based on real people. The situations represented are not real but maybe loosely based on real things that have happened in my life. There are a multitude of ways to view life, this is simply one of the ways I have chosen to view mine. Updated Every Friday unless I can't or don't want to.

If this is your first time reading this...start here:

https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1040400-Welcome-To-The-Pack

My book, "Dreamers of The Sea" is available now on Amazon:
https://a.co/d/0uz7xa3
December 8, 2023 at 10:41am
December 8, 2023 at 10:41am
#1060683
          Now I know you humans don’t understand what magic can do to someone, seen as how you got all the gadgets but none of the pretty sparklies like we gnomes. So, I’ll explain it for you. Imagine you’ve just ran a race. A good long race up and down hills, across valleys and through forests. A race so long that even your hat feels tired. That’s what Falkurk felt. He collapsed to the floor for a moment. Took two deep breaths, then stood, walking over to the window on watery legs.

          Outside was total chaos. The dragon swooped down, strafing the street. From his vantage point, he could see two tiny individuals under the scaley beast’s arms. Falkurk couldn’t see much, but he did see only one gnome had a beard. The rest of the neighborhood was running in panic, running back between the houses, huddled under bushes, struggling to find cover where ever they could find some. There was gnomes trying to build a resistance of some kind by a playground near the corner, but the dragon largely ignored them. It made a large swoop through the neighborhood as if taking one last look, then flew on into the distance.

          Falkurk later said that it felt as his very heart had shattered that night watching the dragon fly off with the gnomes under its arms, with its ceramic coppery wings glistening in the distance. His knees buckled. He said it felt like the floor gave way and the entire world was in free fall. He braced against the wall, tears in his eyes. Faenie walked up to Falkurk and hugged him tight. “Things are going to be okay now,” she said. “You see? This is what the humans have. None of their children were carried off, where they? Their greatest enemies is just each other. They’re having no fear in these wooden castles. And now, neither shall we. We shall be like they are.”

          He turned to her, clenching his fist. “Did you not just see the dragon cart off our kin?! What is wrong with you Faenie?”

          “You said you trusted me, remember?” She pointed at the creature as it attempted to crawl across the floor. A sad whimpering sound came from it whenever it placed a new ceramic hand down. “She’s one of us now! She’ll help us, protect us. We’ll help her and guide her. We’ll live here happy. No more worrying!”

          “She’s hurting, can’t you see? Look at her!”

          The creature whimpered then laid back on the floor. “I’m okay,” she said in a hushed whisper. “I’ll be okay.” But it was obvious she wasn’t okay. There was a trail of ceramic dust behind her. She was corroding away before their very eyes.

          “We can fix her,” Faenie said. “You have the strength in magic, I have the wisdom. It will take a bit, but we can get her repaired good as new!”

          Graffur strode in through the back door with a group of lawn gnomes behind him. They all wore the grim face of an executioner at the gallows. “I’d have never thought it,” he said, walking over to Falkurk. “My own son. After everything I taught you. Every warning I gave!”

          A crowd of lawn gnomes came in after him. “Forbidden,” was said by someone in hushed tones. “Rotten” someone else said. They huddled around the creature that was Ms. Smythe, looking down at her with a mix of sorrow and horror upon their faces.

          Graffur dragged Falkurk forward, tears in his eyes. “Did you do this?”

          The creature that used to be Ms. Smythe looked up from her place on the ground. She tried to smile, but the pain forced it into a grimace. “I didn’t,” Falkurk said.

          “Then who?” Falkurk refused to meet his glare. Graffur stepped closer, and pointed down at the creature crawling on the ground. “Who created this abomination?”

          He looked up at his dad, his lip quivering. “Faenie said she was seen. I was trying to talk to her and well,”

          Everyone stared at Faenie, who smiled as though nothing was wrong. “We all could see she was lonely. No one came. How many of their festive holidays did we watch the meaties have and skip over this poor woman. How many times did they just forget she existed? It’s like she dropped off the earth. Lived in a hole amongst them. Now she’s one of us! Our magic can heal her. She’ll be whole again! You’ll see. We’ll live as one happy family now. We can live in here, with no need to hide anymore.”

          “And do what,” Graffur growled. “Sing and dance while the humans come and see what exactly is wrong? How long do you think it will be before we’re all smashed to bits? Did you ever stop to think about that?”

          “Well,” Faenie said, tapping her lip thoughtfully. “We can turn the neighborhood. Shan’t be that hard, cannit?”

          Graffur gave her a hard look. He was about to reply, but Ms. Smythe’s groan of pain said more than anything he could. The gnomes began to part, and an older gnome stepped forward. When Faenie saw her braided grey hair and the disappointment and sorrow on her face, Faenie looked hurt and shameful for the first time. “M-mom I…” Faenie began.

          “Don’t speak.” Elder Junith said. “For I already know.”

          She pulled energy from the Earth, not as much as Falkurk. But then, she didn’t need as much for what she was doing. She walked to the creature that was Ms. Smythe, and lightly touched her head. A soft white light glowed from her hand down into the creature when she touched her. “We cannot heal you, Ms. Smythe,” she said. “But I give you back your name and I give this kindness to you; that after tonight, you shall have no more pain.”

          Junith stood then glared at Falkurk, then Faenie. “Who was on watch for the dragon?”

          “I was,” Falkurk said, his eyes cast to the floor.

          “Instead of watching for the dragon, your stunt called the dragon to us. Dunkirk and Llyda, newly wedded here upon this very land, are now gone. Dinner for the stone beast,” she snarled the word beast, then glared over at Falkurk.

          “We are lucky no one else was caught. You Falkurk, who shown so much promise. You Falkurk. You Faenie.” She reached behind herself and pulled a knife. “You have destroyed three lives tonight with your greed. This cannot go unpunished. Faenie,” she stepped forward, and grabbed a braid. “You are no longer my daughter.” The knife cut quick through it. The elder threw it to the floor. “You no longer have a name.” She cut through the other braid, and threw it to the floor next to the first. “You no longer have a family. You are cursed! Khied shall be the only name you know. Hunger and greed are the family you have chosen, and it’s the only family you will have, until the day that it destroys you.”

          Graffur grabbed the knife from the elder. “And I, Graffur, say to you, Falkurk,”

          “Dad, please! Listen,”

          Tears filled Graffurs eyes. He held the knife strong as the hands of strong male and female gnomes pulled Khied to the floor. Graffur knelt over him, his tears wetting Falkurk’s face. “You no longer,” he began to saw through the beard.” You…no longer,” he sputtered with a single shuttering breath.

          “Dad…I’m sorry. Please dad, I didna mean to, dad…”

          “You,” he said again, as the blade cut halfway through the beard. “Are no longer Falkurk.” He continued sawing, the knife moving back and forth.

          “Dad….”

          He gripped more of the beard, throwing the hairs behind himself. “You…have no family.” The blade went through the rest of the beard. Strong hands gripped his head. The knife pressed against his chin. Falkurk stared up into the hurt of his father. Tears fell against his face. “I curse you,” Falkurk said, scraping the blade against his chin. “Khied is your name. Hunger and greed,” The blade scraped the left side of his chin with a loud scrape of ceramic, “be the family you have chosen.” The knife scraped the other side now. A fresh white powdery scratch appeared on his chin from the effort. “Hunger and greed be your family now! Until the day they destroy you.”

          He stood. The hands slowly let go. One by one the gnomes left in silence. Junith paused at the door and took one last look at the gnome that was once Faenie, then turned without saying a single word. Faenie looked stunned, her jaw dropped, tears in her eyes. It was as if the thought of being punished for this had never entered her mind.

          Graffur stared down at the gnome that was once Falkurk, glaring at him through his pain. After everyone else had left, the son attempted one last time to talk to his father. “Dad…”

          “I….have no son,” Graffur said then left.

          The gnome that was Falkurk laid in the floor, staring up at the ceiling. His breath came in harsh gulps and huffs, his teeth gritted. A soft scraping sound could be heard. Like ceramic scraping over stone. Finally, a large arm laid over him. “It’s alright,” The creature that was Ms. Smythe said. “At least we’re together.”

          Falkurk touched her hand, and turned to look into her beady eyes. “Are you alright?”

          Ms. Smythe smiled. “Yes,” she said. “I do not hurt now. And I am not alone.” She laid down her head then, and closed her eyes. Khied now, no longer Falkurk, placed his hand upon hers. Hot tears stinging his eyes as he felt the last of her life energy leave. Ms. Smythe was no more.


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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/profile/blog/lu-man/day/12-8-2023