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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/profile/blog/lu-man/day/6-29-2025
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

The first year is available as a compilation on Amazon Kindle:
https://a.co/d/gBLLL7E

Audio and print versions will be available in the future.

My book, "Dreamers of The Sea" is available now on Amazon:
https://a.co/d/0uz7xa3
June 29, 2025 at 12:20pm
June 29, 2025 at 12:20pm
#1092485
          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.


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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/profile/blog/lu-man/day/6-29-2025