For a Brother

Author's notes:

Word count: 2,700

For a Brother

         It all ends tonight, my brother. The misty drizzle dampens my hair with a chill touch, matting strands against my cheek and neck. If he’s nearby, which I know he is, he’ll hear my unspoken voice. We have always possessed this uncanny link. Stop hiding and come out.

         Tegan is out here with me, perhaps hiding in the darkness crusting the ditches and wet autumn grass. With ash-colored clouds muddying the sky, and no lights along Bray Road, I’m forced to squint to keep my sight clear. A gust of wind flings heavy droplets of water into my eyes spitefully. For mood, one couldn’t ask for more depressing weather on Halloween night.

         A pattering of heavy feet on the tar behind me makes me pause mid-stride. Breath chuffs in ragged panting, coming closer. I clench my gloved hands to keep them from shaking so hard. Then I turn around.

         Two sallow eyes stare at me from the darkness. Nearer they come. What do you want of me? the voice asks in my head. My brother’s voice.

         I’ve planned this encounter, what I will say, what I will do, for months. Since I first learned of the legend surrounding what’s described as the Bray Road Beast, here in Wisconsin, I’ve known it’s him. Perhaps it’s my own reluctance to accept what he is; it’s taken long enough to come to this decision. I can’t let him continue like this. Yet everything I have planned flees my mind. I stare at Tegan, wordless.

         He curls his lip, showing long white teeth. He is barely a yard away from me, standing on his hind legs. I’m tall by rights, but he looms shoulders and head above me, his muscled chest covered with sleek charcoal fur. His human-like hands, tipped with claws, are bunched into fists.

         What do you want? he demands once more. A throaty growl follows.

          “To end this curse,” I say. “You’ve suffered enough.”

         The warm leather greatcoat I wear seems superficial, blocking the temperature of the air but doing nothing to repel the ice I feel inside. Coldness I can only name fear.

         Tegan tilts his head like a curious dog--the bitter irony is that, in a physical sense, it’s what he is. A beast. No, he is still human underneath the wolf-like form, and his soul remains. While there have been sightings of him--even occult-like slaughter of animals linked with him--he has never hurt a human. Even such a curse, the one I placed on him, couldn’t lower him to murder.

         You’re unarmed… brother. The last word is heavy with mocking, and the underlying hatred in his tone hurts like a physical blow. Or did you intend to use your hands? He drops to all fours, still looking at me. Fine, get on with it. I’m tired of this excuse for life. You already killed me, in a way, when you made me like this. His pointed ears flatten against his skull. You can’t do anything worse now.

         I can’t meet his gaze any longer. Doesn’t he understand the guilt I’ve punished myself with for seventeen years has never lessened? Every night, when nightmares haunt me, I wish again I hadn’t let fear rule my decisions. Because I was afraid of him, I hurt him in a way no man should inflict on his own brother.

         It was a tragic misunderstanding. We were young then, reckless, just looking for fun on Halloween night. Because of our unique bond, we shared thoughts as easily as words. I can’t blame the alcohol we drank; I can’t blame anyone but myself. For a month before, I noticed his erratic behavior, his sudden and violent mood swings. Mother began to worry, as did I. So I convinced him to come with me on a cruise along the empty roads. I meant to talk with him, discover what disturbed him. I cared about my brother more than anyone else, and that he wouldn’t share his secret with me stung.

         In the overgrown field along Bray Road, I finally confronted him. Our shoulders hunched against the brisk wind, I asked him outright what the problem was. For a long while, he wouldn’t speak, not even in his mind.

          “I killed her,” Tegan finally said. “Hit her with my pick-up.”

         I couldn’t speak. Jeannette, his girlfriend, had disappeared several weeks ago. In my foolishness, I thought he meant her, I thought he had murdered Jeannette. I didn’t think to ask whom he meant, or the circumstances--anything. I assumed the worst and it frightened me. It must have been a sudden, unexplained madness that made me think like that.

          “I hope you pay for that, you bastard!” I shouted at him.

         He stared at me, the hurt plain on his expression; we had never insulted each other, not even jokingly.

         Shoving him to the ground, I ran for the car. I locked myself in, my emotions so tangled I didn’t know what I was feeling. Secretly, I wished some wild animal would hurt him, kill him. I couldn’t imagine turning him over to the law.

          “I can help you,” said a reedy voice near me.

         I started, about to turn, when the spirit-like being floated before me. It was a pale image of an elderly man. His neck was obviously broken.

         My mouth was too dry to speak.

          “My name is of no importance,” the ghost said with a sneer. “I was hanged long ago as a warlock, with one curse left undone. Long have I waited, too long, but now, now, my boy, you will give me the means to escape. You wish upon someone a terrible curse, yes?”

          “Yes.” My mind was too clouded to comprehend, to even question what I was seeing. I didn’t care; Tegan’s admission had broken me.

         The ghost smiled, showing missing teeth. The faint smell of cedar wood and dust hung around him. “Tell me who, my boy.”

         Giving in to fear, I asked the spirit to curse my own brother.

         Five days later, Jeanette turned up at my door, apparently alerted by the news Tegan hadn’t come home. Nothing can describe my shock or horror. She said she left for California, angry, when Tegan hit her German shepherd with his truck when leaving her house one night. Tegan hadn’t seemed remorseful, and since the accident occurred after an explosive argument between them, Jeanette refused to talk to him. Afraid he might become like her previous abusive boyfriend and beat her, she fled without warning.

         Why hadn’t Tegan told me? I would have understood, I could have helped him deal with his loss. Realizing what I had done, that I had unwittingly cursed my brother for a crime he didn’t commit, I searched everywhere for Tegan. I shouted my throat raw in a vain effort to get him to come to me. I saw no sign of him. Mother was diagnosed with cancer a month later and died of an overdose of medication. That final, low blow ripped away my will to live. My whole family was gone; I was alone in a world that cared nothing for me.

         For days, I considered killing myself. A gunshot, an overdose like Mother? Something quick. I just wanted it ended. The despair was too much to endure. It seemed too cowardly, though, a cheap way out. No, I deserved the guilt and pain I inflicted on myself. And I had to find some way to atone for what I'd done to Tegan.

         When Halloween came again, I went to the spot I met the ghost and demanded a way to reverse what I had done. If the curse could be transferred to me, I would accept that, I’d do anything humanly possible to save my brother. I never got an answer. Or a solution. Words can't convey my despondency. It's a wonder I could hold down a job long enough to stay alive and sane.

         Research on werewolves consumed me. Then I heard of the Bray Road Beast, I knew it was Tegan. I tried to catch sight of him, failing every time. When he disappeared, I thought any chance I had to save him was lost.

         Now I have found him, and I have a way to save him. It still frightens me, as it did the day I realized I had the answer. I stare into my brother’s yellow eyes.

          “Tegan.”

         What? he replies. Why don’t you get on with it? This road won’t be empty all night, you know.

         I slowly kneel in front of him. The damp pavement is cold against my knees; the wind continues to hurl drizzle into my face. None of it matters. I can ignore the weather. Midnight is close. Seventeen years have passed, the same number as our ages at the time this happened. The correlation is what I have needed, and if I fail this chance, I will never have another one.

         He may hate me, but part of the curse is that he can never wantonly hurt me unless I let him. While I have endured what I consider the gamut of emotional pain, I’ve always feared physical harm. It takes every thread of willpower to hold my ground, to keep my voice from quivering.

          “The curse will end if you… kill me.”

         I shouldn’t fear death, since I’ve made my own life a form of hell for all these years. Yet I do fear it. I’m shaking; I only hope it will be seen as an effect of the cold.

         Tegan’s eyes widen and he steps back. His long claws click against the damp asphalt. Is it the tears I hate to admit are blurring my eyes, or has his expression softened just a little?

          “Please,” I say. “I’ve never forgiven myself for this mistake. I want you to be free of it.” I tilt my chin up, exposing my throat. “I’m the monster, not you. You shouldn’t die as one.”

         He shakes his head.

         Time is trickling away. Panic encroaches on my thoughts. “Please,” I beg him. “God, Tegan, please.”

         A long silence stands between us, broken only by the weather, and the invisible yet unstoppable ticking of a clock. I can hear it in my head: tick, tock, tick, tock. Every second that passes can never be regained.

         Tegan throws back his head and howls. I shut my eyes.

          “Thank you, brother,” I say.

         His hot breath on my skin precedes an explosion of pain through my neck. His weight knocks me onto my back. Dark spots swim around my vision. The agony is unbearable. I’m almost glad his teeth are closed through my vocal cords; it prevents me from screaming.

         Hot blood fills my mouth. I’m choking, Tegan’s fangs still in my throat. Thoughts blur. Make the pain stop, someone, please.

         A tingling sensation rushes through my convulsing body. Death? The pain is gone, and I feel oddly detached from myself. I open my eyes. Strange. It’s as though I’m wearing infrared goggles. Shades of red and gray and black swirl around me. Is this what it’s like to be dead? Is this hell? Or something that comes before?

         I feel the cold pavement under my back, the rain still peppering my face. Tegan is no longer on top of me. I hear a gagging sound at my right. The tang of blood is strong in my nostrils. Energy is running through me, and I have a desperate urge to leap up and start running to stretch my aching muscles.

         I sit up, glancing to the side. Tegan is huddled on the road, naked and… human. It worked! He’s no longer cursed. I’ve never felt such joy or exuberance!

         My clothes are too tight and fit wrong. I brush aside the discomfort. Maybe I’m a ghost, but I hardly care. My brother is safe, alive, and the guilt that has clenched my mind for years is gone. I feel like a new being.

         I lunge towards him to pull him into an embrace. As my arms wrap around him, I suddenly realize my hands are different--stronger, with pads along the palms. And sharp claws at the tips of my fingers. Sleek, grayish fur covers my hands like new gloves. My entire body has changed. Bigger, more muscular. Animalistic.

         For a moment, Tegan stares in petrified silence at me. I open my mouth to speak, but I’m incapable of using human words. My tongue meets fangs, and all I can manage is a growl.

         Realization is a cruel master.

         Tegan jerks away and staggers to his feet. He shakes his head, jaw working to speak words that won’t come.

         I’m sorry, he says through our mind-link. I didn’t know this would happen!

         I’m too stunned to reply.

         Tegan starts running down the road. Ripping off the clothes that no longer fit me, I drop to all fours. My coordination is off. I stumble. My paws slip on the slick pavement and I slide into the ditch. Refusing to let my mind fully comprehend what I’ve become, I lumber after my brother.

         In the distance, headlights shine through the misty rain. I squint and duck, crouching at the edge of the road. One instinct cries to me to run, I mustn’t be seen by people. Another is resentful. What do I have to fear? No, I will not run. I must protect Tegan until he gets to safety.

         He waves his arms at the approaching vehicle. I lope closer, my heart kicking against my ribs. The car’s path swaggers like a drunken thing. It has veered into the opposite lane. It is aimed straight for Tegan.

         No! I howl.

         I hurl myself at my brother, the headlights blinding me. I miss him by a paw’s breadth. A sick crunch follows and Tegan is thrown over the hood. Tires squeal on the damp road and the car fishtails. Its fender clips my hip, sending me sprawling.

         No, no, no! I smell blood, opened vitals. Not my own. I roll to my paws and swivel my head frantically. The crumpled figure on the far side of the road catches my attention.

         I want to deny what I see. It's too real. Tegan’s head lolls to the side as I awkwardly cradle him. His spine is crushed, his ribs cage shattered, his neck broken. Dead.

         This can’t be. I struggled for years to save my brother--I don’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve this!

         Car doors slam and I hear a sobbing voice, a mix of curses and exclamations of dread. I should hide. No. Let the humans see me--I will not abandon my brother like carrion.

         A new emotion surges up inside me. Hate. The want for revenge. I will bury and mourn Tegan later. I lower his mangled body and stand up, turning to face his murderers.

         Three teenagers: a girl and two guys. Even though they stay away, I smell the beer clinging to them. I drop to all fours and leap at them. They scream as they make a dash back towards their Sedan. Nothing can escape me. I catch the first man and slam my front paws into his back. He has not even hit the ground before I crush the back of his neck with my powerful jaws. Blood, delicious. I savor the taste as I rip the throats out of the other two murderers.

         They have paid. Soon Jeanette will too, for making me believe that Tegan had killed her. She is at fault--why didn't I see it until now? Everyone who lives along Bray Road and the surrounding towns will be next. They persecuted my brother when he was helpless; they shunned him, treated him like a worthless animal; doubtless they kept me from finding him sooner. They will pay.

         Oh, yes.

         If the humans thought the Bray Road Beast is a myth, they will soon find I am all too real.

         I bow my head to Tegan in farewell. Rest in peace, my brother. Vengeance will be ours. Tonight it has only begun.