Wolf

Wolves in the Snow
A story by Ian Benke

         The pale orb of the sun is hidden in the frozen sky.  Falling snow has covered the trees and roads, hiding them under a white blanket. The forest is still and its silence is almost sanctified, the stillness only broken by trees cracking and shattering from the relentless cold. The town of Amber is hidden in the trees and in the snow. Under the white drifts lay fractured streets, decaying with the seasons. The shops on main street are nothing more than shells, forgotten promises of a livelihood from another time.
Broken windows with jagged edges.
Spiderwebs cracked into glass.
City hall has twisted into a husk of wooden beams and empty windows. The houses are boarded up and falling apart, the forest is reclaiming them. In '78 the post office closed up shop- the final nail in Amber’s coffin, leaving the town for the ghosts.
Only the ghosts have company.
In the last two years since the mine closed a few brave souls have continued on. People who wouldn’t leave, people who want seclusion. They live in empty houses plugged into generators. They hunt their own food and live on the fringe. Amber is a town that hardly exists, Amber is a town on the edge of sanity.
         The frozen silence of the morning is shattered by a scream. On the steps to city hall the pure white snow is stained red. A young woman covered from head to toe is standing in shock as a dog barks furiously into the winter air. In front of them is the twisted corpse of a man. It would be impossible to tell this was once a man if it weren’t for the boots on his feet. The same worn brown leather boots belonging to Henry Innes.
The resident drunk and generally bitter person.
Henry had no family or friends, his own company the only type he could stand. The day the mine shut down and everyone left was a good day for Henry. It meant he could finally be alone. There is no bitter personality anymore though, claws and fangs made sure of that.
Julia screams again, her scarf hardly muffling the sound.
         Her shrieks penetrate the few houses that are still occupied. In just a matter of minutes the whole town, all twelve of them, are standing around Henry’s corpse,
rifles slung over shoulders.
Hunting dogs smelling the snow.
“Looks like it could be a cougar.” Says Merle Mitchell, an avid hunter.
“A cougar that dragged Henry from his place to town hall and didn’t eat him?” Another man states while pointing to the bloody trail in the snow.
“Could just be a real angry cougar.” offers Merle, but even before he says it no one believes it’s a cougar.
The town falls silent.
Between the mangled corpse and oversized wolf prints in the snow the people of Amber know something isn’t right.
         The residents of Amber are a secluded bunch. People who can’t stand the company of others, people who drink too much or just love simplicity. Julia is the only one who doesn’t permanently live there. For a few months in the winter and summer she lives there with her boyfriend. They grow weed in the basement of a deserted house and sell it in Vancouver. The other residents tolerate them because they bring in much-needed supplies. Only this time Julia is by herself, her boyfriend stayed back in the city. The common logic to call the police or some type of law isn’t applied in Amber. These people keep to their own, they handle their own problems. No one will notice that Henry is dead. Out of instinct or an urge to acknowledge the situation the men who hunt get ready. They put on heavy coats and thick boots, the dogs smell the corpse and find a trail. Between the mental illness that runs rampant in places like Amber and the wolf prints these people are scared.
Fear is on their mind.
Fear courses in their blood.
None of them know what they are hunting.
         The hunters finding nothing, the scent trail stopping dead. Whatever killed Henry vanished back into the forest without a trace. They return and stones are heated in flames to be thrown onto frozen earth. The stones loosen the frozen dirt, shovels plunge in and remove soil. The pale sun is retreating into the horizon and darkness is settling in. The people of Amber want to get this done with. As Henry’s body is thrown into the grave a sense of unease seeps into the air.
Henry lands with a dull thud.
They throw dirt onto a corpse tied in a sheet.
Worn brown leather boots stick out.
         A shiver runs up Julia’s spine and it isn’t from the cold. She looks into the dark woods and has the uncanny feeling of being watched. In those dark trees something is hiding, something is watching  Julia and she can feel it. Her mind is suddenly filled with images.
Great green orbs staring at her.
Blood dripping from black fur.
She thinks of her own corpse being tied in a bed sheet and tossed so casually into the earth. She is almost overcome with melancholy for Henry and has no idea why. She hardly ever talked to him and when she did it felt like he was undressing her with his eyes. Standing over his grave Julia feels gravity pushing down on her, filling her with sadness.
         There isn’t an easy mind in Amber that night. Deadbolts almost rusted over are used for the first time in years, the people hardly sleep. They lay in their beds wondering who will be next, who will be dragged through the snow bloody and broken. The squatter village of Amber is in need a hero, a Beowulf for their mysterious Grendel. On the snow covered main street their hero is arriving. A jeep with heavy chains pushes through the snow, it’s headlight cutting through the darkness. Weathered hands with hardened calluses and swollen knuckles grip the steering wheel. A frostbitten mouth with stained teeth breaths out gray smoke while steel blue eyes look into the darkness unafraid. A magnificent dog sits in the passenger seat. Her white fur is stripped with black and her blue eyes dutifully stare out of the window. The dog is wolf and Husky, she is large and wild but an honest companion to the man.
         Headlights illuminate the frozen blood stains left by Henry Innes. The engine is shut down, the jeep door is opened. The dog jumps out of the car and shoves it’s nose into the bloody snow. The man follows behind the dog, his face covered with a thick wool cap and a scarf. The scarf is pulled off to the side, a cigarette hangs out of his mouth.
The ember burns red in the frozen night.
His eyes stare at the murder  scene.
Black fur in the snow; huge wolf prints.
The stain of claw tips in snow.
“What do you say Lily, have we found our boy?” The man’s voice is like tires on gravel. The dog barks in response and he nods. Smoke dances and twirls off of the glowing red ember.
“It’s about time.” Smoke fills his lungs and he exhales it into the darkness of Amber.
         After the burial Julia had gone back to her house, too tired and stressed to notice the fresh tire tracks in the the snow. She’s in her small kitchen putting a kettle onto a boil and looking for something to eat. She sits on a lone chair in the kitchen eating stale cereal while absently staring at the wall in front of her.
Red paint peels from the wall.
Chipped and falling off.
Juila’s lost in her own thoughts.
The sorrow she felt as they buried Henery is only amplified in the warmth of her house. She feels the obligation to check on the plants but can’t bring herself to leave the kitchen. She has no energy for anything. She can smell the plants growing in the basement, the earthy and pungent smell seeping into everything. She’s never been so alone before, so abandoned before. The feeling is heavy, pushing down on her and filling her mind with toxic thoughts. Memories that she has put away and forgotten take center stage. Thoughts of the father who left and ideas of her boyfriend fucking somebody else swarm her mind.
She shivers, snapping out of her trance.
The water on the stove is boiling over and Julia can’t remember why she put it on.
         There is a loud knock on the door and Julia wonders who it could be. A neighbor most likely, but no one knocks in Amber. Julia looks out of the window and her eyes get pulled towards the forest.
She can see the green eyes through the trees.
Green eyes staring at her, getting inside of her.
An even louder set of knocks on the door snaps her back to the present. Julia is meet with a blast of frozen air when she opens the door. Standing in the frame of the doorway is a large man covered from head to toe from the cold, beside him is a huge dog sitting obediently. Snow covers his frame as white breath escapes in puffs through his black scarf. He extends a mittened hand towards her.
“My name is Markov.  I’d like to talk to you about what happened here.” Her voice is rough and deep.
He fills Julia with an uneasy, almost panicked feeling. She is suddenly aware of the thick skunk smell of the plants in the basement. A man died and now here is some sort of law and Julia has been too busy feeling sorry for herself to even think of that.
“I’m not the law.” His rough voice and cuts through the cold. Julia feels relieved and holds the door open for him.
         After a few moments they’re sitting in the cramped and dirty living room. The wood floor is chipped and splintered, there is garbage littered in the corners. Julia has a hot cup of tea in front of her while Markov pours whiskey into a glass. Lily has fallen asleep next the small fire burning in the mantle.
“The man who died, what was his name?” Markov’s tone is curt and abrupt. It takes Julia a moment to respond, Markov can clearly tell she is not all there. After a moment she tells him his name was Henry.  Julia looks at Markov’s face in the dim fire light and she’s never seen anyone that looks like him before. His face is a tapestry of scars and wrinkled skin. His hair is thick and gray, a peppered beard lines his face. She can’t tell if he is old or has just weathered too many storms. Markov is wearing a canvas army jacket with a squad patch on his shoulder, a Vietnam vet no doubt. Julia’s boyfriend had ended up in Canada because he ran from the draft years earlier, clearly this man in front of her had not. Markov takes a cigarette out of his pack and slides it into his mouth.
“This man, Henry, did you know him?” There’s a flash of fire as his light his smoke.
“Not really, I’ve talked to him only a handful of times. Who are you exactly if not the police?” Julia grips her tea cup not sure is she wants to know.
“I am Markov, I’ve come here to kill the werewolf that is attacking your town.” All Juila can think about now is the green eyes waiting for her.
         Markov pours some of the amber liquid down his throat. Julia had hardly moved after he mentioned the werewolf, no disbelief or doubt. Now she is just staring towards the door, her mind disconnected. It is all the proof that Markov needs that there is wolf here, he has seen it all before.
The depression.
Toxic thoughts and residents losing their sanity.
He snaps his fingers at her and calls her name.
“Sorry.” She replies, “I’ve just been a bit shook up from Henry is all.” She tries to make excuses.
“Do you know what a werewolf is.” Markov takes another drag.
“Yeah, full moon, silver bullets. It doesn’t seem very likely that they exist.”
Markov laughs and Lily lazily looks at the two of them with sleep filled eyes.
“I’m afraid not. They are animals that were once men, silver bullets, full moons. They don’t have rules, rules are a thing of man. Werewolves are a thing of nature. They don’t need such absurd rules.” Markov steel eyes stay focused on Julia.
“They come to areas like this, isolated places. Hunting camps, reservations, almost abandoned towns.”
Julia’s face is still calm, emotionless. She grips her tea mug absently taking sips here and there. She can’t shake the feeling that she’s worthless, that her life is a joke. The punch line is talking to this insane man about werewolves.
“So just kill it.” Julia says, her eyes still staring at the door.
         Markov throws his cigarette butt into the fireplace and quickly lights another one.
“If I could just kill it I would be doing that right now.” His voice is cold.
“Then why can’t you? To be honest this whole thing sounds like bullshit.”
“You’re depressed.” Markov is trying to make eye contact but Julia won’t allow it.
She laughs out loud and goes to the kitchen to get another cup of tea.
“Of course I’m depressed, who wouldn’t be out here? I’ve come out to Amber five times before and now I don’t even have company. This place is a back water hick town, so yes Mr. Werewolf hunter I am depressed.” Saying all of it out loud brings another heavy wave of gravity onto Julia.
Markov just stares at her with his piercing blue eyes.
“These creatures are more than flesh and blood. Their presence fills everything around them with despair. It’s how they hunt, they shatter minds until their prey wants to die. This man, Henry, did he die with his boots on?”
“Yes.” The questions seems absurd to Julia.
“Was his house fine, did the creature attack him in the house? Did your people look at his tracks, did they simply walk from the front door to the attack?”
Everything the man was saying was true.
“Yes but what does that have to do with me being depressed?”
Markov takes a long drag of his cigarette.
“Henry would’ve been like you are tonight, distracted and clearly upset. So upset that he, much like you probably are, was thinking about death. He could feel the wolf watching him, waiting for him. All he had to do was go outside, put on his boots and walk towards death.”
Julia is pale, she asks Markov for a cigarette.
         Sitting beside the fire they smoke until Markov runs out of whiskey. He tells Julia that for her safety he should spend the night. Julia is too tired, her mind weighing her down too much, she doesn’t give it much thought.
She tosses Markov a spare blanket.
Markov could sleep on the couch but he prefers the floor. He lays his head on Lily’s side, the wooden floor hard on his back. He has spent many nights sleeping like this, usually without the luxury of a roof. The whiskey swims in his brain helping everything shut down, allowing for sleep to seep in. Throughout the night Markov’s head is filled with hideous dreams, they attack his mind while his body slumbers.
         He’s walking into a house, not like the one in Amber though. He’s in a large suburb of some city. The house is nice, upper middle class. Markov opens the door and inside there is a nightmare. A teenage boy, no older than fifteen, with jet black hair and green eyes is standing in the hallway.
A bloody knife hangs from his hand.
His family are all upstairs, dead in their beds.
Killed by the boy.
Family portraits are splashed with blood.
The boy goes into his own bedroom and lays the knife down on the bed. It’s early morning and fresh orange light falls through dark curtains. The boy climbs on top of the bed, Markov can hear bones start to crack. The boy squirms on the bed as his body rips it self apart and a wolf emerges from the shell. The beast is huge and stands on two legs. It’s elongated arms scratch the floor with razor sharp claws. It’s wild green eyes now stare right at Markov. It wants him to know what is in it’s sick mind.
It wants to hunt Markov.
         Markov awakes with a jump. Sweat is dripping down his face and Lily licks it off. The dream is fresh in his mind, stained into his memory.
The dream is confirmation.
Markov and Lily have tracked the wolf from the city, his scent leading them to Amber. Markov read a story in the newspaper about a slaughtered family and a missing son. As he read the story he knew the boy must now be a wolf.
He could feel it.
Now here he is in Amber and the dream confirmed that a werewolf is here. The one he has been looking for.
“He is here girl.” Markov says gently to Lily as she licks his face. For the last five years Markov has been hunting werewolves, he has been in their dark aura enough to know when one is present. He has been doing this long enough that when he saw the teenage boy’s picture in the paper he knew it was another wolf.
The wolves have gotten to Markov’s mind, but they haven’t shaken his conviction.
         The residents of Amber awake to another gory morning. All of the dogs in the town were slaughtered in the night, except for Lily. Like Henry their bodies were dragged through the snow to town hall. Merle Mitchell is the first to fall into hysterics. He had three hunting dogs, the closest thing he had to a family. Now they are torn up, claw marks cut through their skin and are laid out in the blood red snow. The town is once again huddled together at city hall.
“Something wants us out of here!” Merle screams to the solemn crowd of residents.
“Something from the woods is making that pretty fucking clear!” He is holding back tears, his head is swimming with memories of his dogs.
He had them since pups.
Now all of his memories are tainted. There’s no anger in him, just the same feeling of gravity that has been weighing down Julia.
The same gravity that has been weighing down on Markov for years.
Markov marches into the small crowd and all eyes fall on the newcomer.
“It is a werewolf doing this.” He says bluntly and loudly.
“Who the hell are you!” Merle yells at Markov.
Markov’s presence is commanding, he raises a hand for silence and they obey.
“I am Markov, I will kill the wolf for you. All I ask for is the opportunity to skin it.”
The crowd is silent. The idea of the werewolf isn’t nonsensical to these isolated people, it was just unthought of. Markov turns his back to the residents and marches through the snow. For Markov the forest is calling, it’s time for him to hunt.
         Lily races deep into the woods, her nose guiding her through the boreal forest. Her paws cut through the snow- the forest is no obstacle for her. The smell of the wolf is thick, it’s very presence a marking of it’s territory. The wolf is more than an animal, it’s nature incarnate.
It’s existence an extension of primal law.
It’s more wild than the trees or any creature in the woods. Lily has tracked them before but this time it’s different. The wolves usually vanish into thin air, nothing more than a memory or a wisp of smoke. Lily can smell it in the air, she can feel it in it’s presence, she knows this monster is different.
It wants the whole town.
It wants Markov.
It is the forest reclaiming an abandoned town and the wolf isn’t going to vanish.
The smell in Lily’s nose suddenly changes. The wolf is still there but now a bear fills her nostrils as well. She smells the carnage before seeing it, as dogs often do. She calls for Markov, her barks echoing through the frozen forest.
         Markov hears Lily’s barking and starts to run in her direction. He is running headlong through tree branches and deep snow. His gun weighs heavy on his shoulder, his ears are red with frostbite but none of it matters. He shoves his mittens into his pockets and his hands are freezing but Markov ignores the pain. All that matters is the wolf and his beloved dog has lead him to it. Markov bursts into a clearing and the wolf is there. In the pale winter sunlight the wolf is standing over the body of a large brown bear. The bear’s body torn into, the wolf’s muzzle is bloody. Markov aims his rifle, the wolf is between his iron sights so Markov fires. The bullets plunge into a mass of muscle, flesh and fur.
The wolf stands still.
The gun clicks, the magazine is empty.
The wolf turns it wild eyes towards Lily.
“Lily run!” Markov yells but the wolf is already after her.
         In just an instant the wolf leaps over the dead bear and drops to all fours. It’s eyes ignore Markov, it’s body ignores the bullets in it’s flesh, it’s instinct focused only on Lily. Lily with amazing speed and grace cuts through the forest. She’s running towards the town, in her mind running towards some sort of safety. Markov reloads his gun and runs after the two animals, but to no avail. He is nowhere near as fast as either of them. Markov is filled with terror. He knows the wolf won’t outright kill him, it’s a vindictive creature offended by Markov’s very presence.
The wolf wants to hurt him.
He runs faster.
         The air is filled with a dying yelp, the unmistakable last noise of Lily’s life. Markov stops dead in his tracks, his heart crashing into his gut. Tears start to fill his eyes but he ignores them and screams in rage. Crashing through the woods he starts to fire blindly into the forest, praying each bullet meets the wolf. He arrives at Lily’s body and there is no sign of the wolf, it’s disappeared into the wilderness. He falls onto her dead body and starts to weep. He black and white fur is stained with blood, her stomach is laying open on the cold snow. He picks up her limp body and with a heavy heart walks back to Amber, defeated. The hunt is over, the wolf has won. He came to the town for the skin of the wolf, for the skin of any werewolf. Now it’s different, the wolf has killed Markov’s best friend. Memories of Lily cloud his mind as her corpse rests in his arms. He remembers her as a puppy with oversized paws, he remembers her caring blow eyes and unwavering optimism. All the times he played with her, feed her and loved are nothing but memories now.
         Markov’s life is nomadic, drifting from place to place looking for signs. Signs of the wolves. They’ve taken him everywhere and made no place a home. His family is a childhood memory, no one is his friend. The only companion Markov has ever had is now in his arms, her blood staining his jacket. Before it was about proving something to himself; now Markov wants revenge.
         Markov buries Lily away from the other dogs. He spends the afternoon fighting with frozen earth and laying the poor dog to rest. After she is in the ground Markov has a smoke and a drink over her grave, Julia walks up beside him.
“She seemed like a nice dog. I’m sorry.” She tries to put on an arm around Markov but he shrugs it off.
“She was more than a nice dog, Lily was my only friend. The wolves have taken everything from me now.” He just stares at the plot of earth.
“Why do you hunt werewolves, it seems like an odd occupation.”
Without looking up from the grave Markov begins to talk.
“I was in Vietnam when I first saw the werewolves. You could say I was the odd man out of squad, I believe it was my russian decent that prevented them from liking me. Whatever the reason their dislike of me made me who I am. You see lots of horrible things happened in that jungle, awful things things I thought men were incapable of.”
Markov lifts his head and looks Julia in the eyes, he has her attention.
“The wolves are not created from bites and full moons. They are created from a primal place inside of a man, an embodiment I believe of our worst nature. When I was in Vietnam we came across a town not unlike this one. Small, isolated, only a handful of people. My squad was convinced I must be a homosexual because I refused to talk about women they way they did. In this town they found a woman and demanded that I rape her.”
Markov’s eyes fall back to earth and he lights another cigarette.
“That’s horrible!” Julia exclaims.
“It is just the beginning.”
         Markov continues to tell Julia about his haunting memory.
“When I refused one of my squad-mates decided he would do it. She screamed loudly and one of the villagers tried to stop them. They killed that man and it unleashed something inside of them. Right in front of my eyes they all transformed into wolves and slaughtered everything except for myself. They fled into the jungle and eventually the army found me. Struck silent in the carnage the MPs demanded to know what happened. I couldn’t believe it myself.”
“So you’re looking for your squad-mates?” Julia asks him.
“No. I pray I never see them again. See, the wolves corrode minds, and that day my squad mates destroyed mine. I lived with that memory everyday believing I had gone insane until I saw another wolf a year later. I need the skin, you see, to prove that the wolves have driven me mad, and not my own mind.”
With a broken heart Markov turns his back to the grave.
         He spends the rest of the day in a haze. After informing the residents to stay inside for the night Markov pulls out large steel traps from the back of his jeep. He lays them out all over the town and buries them under the snow.
Metal teeth laying in wait.
Indiscriminate to whatever falls into their jaws.
The sun sets early this far north and once it’s down Markov waits in his jeep. He waits for the traps to go off, he waits for the beast to make another appearance. He stares into the darkness as snow lightly falls.
Crystals of white reflecting the moon light.
It’s a peaceful scene, but the inside of Markov’s head is not. His mind is on the fringe of insanity, but that’s nothing new. Years of being in the corrupting aura of werewolves has dissolved Markov’s mind. Lily was his last anchor.
Now Markov is free to fall into madness.
         The temperature drops and Markov’s lips are turning blue, but to him it doesn’t matter. His body feels nothing. Through his callused hands he twists a set of dog tags like a rosary, a reminder of that dark day in the jungle. He keeps the dog tags as a memento of that day, he needs the skin to prove that day was real. The memory of that day fills is head while he waits. He can remember the humid smell of the jungle, the blood dripping down the black fur of his squad mates. He can remember standing while the small huts and houses burned around him. He felt insane that day, he felt like everything he knew of the world was turned upside down. Now here he is, sitting in a subzero jeep praying for another wolf. Praying for a chance to prove his sanity.
         Julia is sitting alone in the dark. Her generator has run out of fuel but she doesn’t care. She’s too tired to light a fire in the mantle. Her stomach is empty but she won’t do anything to fill it. She is just sitting on the chair in her kitchen staring at the peeling paint. Her eyes are red and swollen from crying. Since seeing Markov bury Lily she has had no motivation to do anything. She hasn’t checked on the plants in the basement for days. All she can do is replay memories in her head over and over again. She thinks about all the people she knows who have died and wishes she was with them. Julia just can’t believe her life has amounted to this, to growing weed and being with a man who treats her like shit. She knows herself though, she knows that she isn’t capable of fulfilling any ambition she’s ever had.
This is all she is good for.
Sitting in a chair and watching paint peel.
She’s doing no one any favors by being alive, so what’s the point? The wolf is waiting for her, offering a chance to leave this place.
To let go, to let death take her.
She feels those green eyes watching her through the walls and gets up to meet them.
         Julia walks to the front door and catches her reflection in the mirror. She is disgusted by the very reflection of herself. She puts on her boots and throws the door open. Julia doesn’t feel the cold, she doesn’t notice the falling snow melting on her bare shoulders. All she can focus on is the great big green eyes watching her from the forest. Eyes that she wants to see up close, she wants those green eyes to be last thing she ever sees. She starts walking towards the forest and her boot lands in the center of a bear trap.
Steel teeth gouge into soft flesh.
Muscles tear and bones splinter.
Great big teeth keeping her locked to the ground.
She screams into the night, calling for the wolf.
         Markov watches as Julia gets trapped. The door to the jeep opens and Markov gets his gun ready. Julia can be live bait for the wolf, drawing him out of the forest. Markov squeezes down on the trigger and fires blindly into the forest. The gunshots are flashes of illumination for a dark town. The wolf charges out of the woods and runs straight for Julia, ignoring the gun shots. Before it can reach her the wolf steps into one of Markov’s traps and falls into the deep snow.
It howls into the winter night.
Markov lowers his rifle and marches towards the beast. Markov doesn’t say a word, his conviction is in his silence. He moves towards the struggling wolf and laughs.
“All these years. All the time your kind has taken from me. Now look at you, a pathetic dog stuck in a hunter’s trap.” Markov spits on the wolf and the creature looks up at him. It’s great green eyes filled with hate.
         As Markov beats the wolf with the butt of his rifle each blow makes a dull thud. He ignores Julia, her cries falling on deaf ears. This is the moment Markov has been waiting years for.
He unsheathes a long hunting knife.
A silver blade reflecting pale moonlight.
“All these years wondering if I were sane. All these years wondering what type of creature you are. Now I will know.” He pulls back the wolf’s head and readies his knife at it’s throat. Before he can make the fatal move the wolf’s body starts to change.
Bones crack and pop.
A horrible noise emitting from it’s jaw fills the air.
“No!” Markov screams at the wolf but it makes no difference. It’s changing back into a man, or in this case a naked teenage boy.
“NO!” Markov is screaming at the horrible sight in front of him, limbs shortening, fur falling into snow. In just a matter of moments the wolf is gone, replaced by a trembling boy caught in a trap.
         Markov grabs the boy by his hair and drags him into Julia’s house. The boy is unconscious and makes no attempt at resistance. With his leg still caught in the steel trap Markov ties the boy to a chair. Markov lights a cigarette and releases the trap, blood spurts onto the dirty floor. The boy snaps back into the world, his eyes are filled with the image of Markov standing in front of him.
The boy laughs.
“Turn back.” Markov says coldly.
The boy shakes his head, his hair is black and wild.
“Turn back now!” Markov’s voice is shaking.
The boy stops laughing and snaps his head towards Markov. Their eyes connect. Markov’s steel blues on his wild greens.
“Please, I don’t know what you want with me. Just let me go, you already killed my family, just let me go.” The boy is crying now, tears running down his swollen and beaten face.
Markov punches him across the jaw.
“Please don’t this!” The boy pleads, his voice is hysterical and full of panic.
“TURN BACK!” Markov’s voice booms out of his body and fills the small house.
“Turn back to what?” The boy sobs.
         Markov starts to panic. What is happening? He is in the middle of a forgotten town with a boy tied to chair. Sobs fill the room and fill Markov full of doubt. The wolf is trying to trick him, it must be. This is the monster that killed Lily, this is the monster that slaughtered his own family. Now it is sitting here, crying in front of Markov. Markov needs the wolf, not this pathetic attempt to confuse.
The creature is in his head, trying to destroy whatever is left of Markov’s mind. He slams the hunting knife into the boy’s thigh.
The boy screams in pain.
“TURN BACK!” Markov screams again while the boy just sobs.
“Please....please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone I promise, please.” He looks Markov in the eye but Markov can still see the wolf in those green eyes. Markov yells out of frustration and pulls the knife out of the boy’s leg. The boy screams again filling Markov with even more hate.
He isn’t crazy.
He won’t let this demon make him think he is either.
“Why are doing this?” The boy pleads.
He isn’t crazy.
In one swift motion Markov plunges the knife into the boy’s heart.
         He leaves the body strapped to the chair. The snow outside is falling harder now. Julia lays in the snow as she bleeds out. Markov walks right past her, too frustrated and angry to acknowledge anything. He throws open the door to his jeep and starts the engine. Markov sits behind the wheel for a moment. He frantically runs the dog tags through his hands. He looks behind him towards the road out of Amber and starts to drive. He needs to keep hunting, to find another wolf and collect it’s skin. The quest is the only thing Markov has left in the world and he won’t allow the wolves to take it from him. As he leaves Amber his mind is filled with what he is leaving behind.
Lily.
A girl bleeding out in the frozen forest.
A dead boy strapped to a chair.
He needs to get his werewolf skin, he needs to prove his sanity. The wolves have gone to his mind and he’ll go to the end of the world to get it back.